Zelda the Grey Quiet One
Book 1 - Of Butterflies and Elves
Chapter Three – Angelina the Cat
Summary: I'm nothing like my sister. While she's out and about exploring the wilderness. I spend most of my days huddled around the fireplace reading books, watching DVDs, snuggling Twig, and all in all being a smol couch potato. When ideas of moving to the city popped up, she was distressed, while I was apathetic.
*~~oOo~~*
Gunpla
After a harrowing night, the family finds solace in a quiet morning at their home in the wilderness. At first daylight breaks, they set to work cleaning up the mess left behind by the hidden people. The stale air, brought in by a broken window, carries a faint, musty smell that lingers through the house.
Their bodies are tense in solemn motion, but their eyes are determined as they sort through the wreckage. Eventually, a majority of the mess is put back in its place, and the remnants of last night's mayhem are slowly dusted off, becoming a distant memory.
Powered by coffee, Johanna insists on finishing the cleaning, and the girls reluctantly settle down for breakfast in the kitchen. Zelda sits munching on a bowl of cereal, while Hilda opts for a refreshing salad. On the floor, Twig scuffs down his own bowl of feed.
They eat in silence, with the sound of a broom and dustpan sweeping in the background. Zelda suddenly sneezes at the dust swirling around the room, rubbing her nose before her gaze falls sadly on the crumpled box of a figurine shipped from Japan, now ruined after falling hard to the floor during last night's uproar.
"Sorry for your loss," Hilda says softly, her voice breaking the silence.
"It's fine," Zelda sniffs, though her expression betrays her disappointment. "It's just a hobby I thought of getting into."
"What is it? I don't recognize the language on the label," Hilda asks, tilting her head at the box.
"It's a Japanese DIY figurine called Gunpla. It's about Gundam, the anime. Basically, it's a show about robots fighting robots," Zelda oversimplifies, her fingers grazing the box's edge.
"Sounds cool," Hilda replies, her curiosity piqued.
"It was," Zelda says, her expression falling as she pulls out a piece from the box. Broken plastic parts scatter across the table. She sighs, disappointment washing over her.
Hilda looks troubled. "Wait, so it's not built right out of the box?"
"Yeah," Zelda confirms, her voice a bit strained.
"Then it's not broken," Hilda says bluntly, a hint of optimism in her tone.
Zelda takes a deep breath, shaking her head. "Hilda, I don't want to listen to your innate logic right now. I'm grieving."
"Okay, hear me out," Hilda insists, her eyes brightening. "If all the pieces are still there, even if they're broken, you can put them back together. Building it from the ground up!"
The brunette owlishly blinks.
"Huh? I guess you're right," Zelda concedes, considering the idea. "But it'll be a long, gruesome task. 'Not sure it's even worth it."
"Well, life's hardly easy. It's the journey that counts, in my opinion," Hilda replies with a soft smile.
"Thanks… Maybe with this one, if we have the time, we can fix and build it," Zelda says, a flicker of hope in her eyes. "Together."
"I'd like that," Hilda whispers, sharing a moment of understanding with her sister.
"Welp, time to store this one with the others," Zelda said, her voice nonchalant as she put away the Gunpla box.
Hilda raised an eyebrow, curiosity sparking in her eyes. "Others? You mean there are more?"
Zelda feigned a dramatic gasp, hand over her heart. "You didn't think I'd stop at just one, did you?"
"Oh?" Hilda's voice dropped into a mischievous tone, a grin creeping across her face. "And where, might I ask?"
Zelda smirked "In my secret stash," she replied, dragging out the words for effect.
Hilda leaned in, her voice lowering in a mock-serious whisper. "And where exactly is this secret stash located?"
With a playful roll of her eyes, Zelda waved off the question. "Tough luck, sis. That's classified."
Hilda crossed her arms, her grin widening. "Is that a challenge?"
Before Zelda could respond, Johanna, having finished wiping down the coffee table, popped her head into the kitchen, smiling at the twins' banter. The living room was now in decent shape, aside from the broken window and busted TV—a fact Zelda would no doubt lament over later. For now, though, their lighthearted conversation filled the cabin with a much-needed warmth.
"Girls, I slept on it and—I've been thinking." Johanna steps into the kitchen, her voice soft and unsure as she approaches the twins from behind. "Maybe I rushed into things when I said we should move to Trolberg.
Zelda's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "Really?"
Hilda, her face lighting up, nearly bounces in her seat. "You mean it?"
Johanna nods. "Mhm, I'd like to give this negotiation thing a shot."
Hilda pumps her fist in triumph. "Yes! Speaking of… okay, I know this might sound weird, but last night…" She pauses, glancing at Zelda before continuing. "I met one of the hidden people—the ones who wrecked the house. Apparently, they're tiny, invisible elves."
Zelda freezes mid-chew from her breakfast, blinking. "What?"
Hilda nods excitedly. "Yeah, the one who came to me was called Alfur. He actually agrees with me and wants to help us out." She then retells the whole encounter with her family. Ending with a concerned Johanna and a mildly relieved Zelda.s
"I can't believe I slept through all that," Zelda mutters, still chewing her cereal.
Hilda grinned. "I tried to wake you up, but you're like a brick when you sleep, sis." Zelda rolled her eyes.
"This Alfur fella', you sure he can be trusted?" Johanna asks, her doubt clear.
Hilda sighs, holding back the urge to roll her eyes. "It's the only chance we've got, Mum. He's setting up a meeting with the Mayor as we speak."
Johanna isn't convinced. "And where exactly is this Mayor? I don't want you ending up who knows where."
Hilda waves off her concern, trying to sound calm. "Relax, it's nearby. Alfur said it's about 200 elf miles."
Zelda, who's been listening quietly, suddenly pipes up. "What's an elf mile?"
Hilda shrugs. "Don't ask me. I didn't exactly get the details."
Zelda, not one to let things slide, grabs a pen and paper, her curiosity piqued. "Alright, let's figure this out. How tall is Alfur?"
Hilda leans in, her face thoughtful. "About 2 inches."
Zelda snorts, clearly amused. "Can't believe those wee little guys are the ones responsible for attacking our home," she says, shaking her head with a smirk. "It's always the tiny ones with the biggest bark,"
She sketches out a rough diagram and units of measurement on paper, her eyes gleaming as she goes through the work.
"Right, let's break this down," she begins, tapping the paper. "If Alfur is about 2 inches tall, and a regular human mile is 5,280 feet, we've got some converting to do. So, let's take a standard 12-inch ruler and compare it to the average human height—around 5'9" or 69 inches." She pauses, then snorts. "Of all the numbers..."
"Now, if we shrink that 69-inch human down to 2 inches, we're looking at a ratio of 34.5. Divide that by a 12-inch ruler—so, 12 divided by 34.5—and we get roughly 0.348 inches. Convert that into millimeters, and you've got around 8.8 mm. At that scale, 8.8 mm equals one foot. Multiply that by 5,280 feet, and boom—46,464 mm. So, an elf mile? Roughly 152 feet. Give or take"
Zelda concludes with an air of finality.
Johanna, clearly impressed, claps slowly. "That's quite something."
Hilda blinks, trying to process all the jargon. "You did all that... from your head?" She asks in disbelief.
Zelda grins, leaning back, satisfied. "Told you, I'm the smarter twin." An eye-roll was all she got in response from her twin, while her mother pats her head.
"Let's finish up breakfast. We don't want to be late for our meeting with the Mayor," Johanna nonchalantly says.
"We?!" Hilda and Zelda shout in unison, startled by the surprise addition.
Johanna winces, rubbing her ear. "That's right, I'm coming with," she says with a sly grin, turning toward Zelda. "What do you say, Zelda? Fancy a little family outing?"
Zelda refuses to meet her gaze as she twirls a finger around her hair. "Sounds nice, but no thanks," She softly says offhandedly, her gaze drifting out the window.
"C'mon~," her mum's pleading, playful tone worms its way into her ear. Zelda bristles as Johanna closes the distance, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.
Instinctively, Zelda leans into the soft, familiar fabric of her mum's brown sweater, breathing in a scent that's indescribable yet familiar, filling her with warmth.
Hilda stifles a giggle, watching her mum expertly guilt-trip Zelda. But her smile fades a bit as she notices how close they are. "C'mon, Zels. It's been forever since we all took an adventure," Hilda says, feeling the need to chime in.
"That's right. How long has it been since we all went out together?" Johanna pouts.
Zelda doesn't even hesitate. "Three weeks and four days ago, when you dragged us out for that picnic by the fjord," she says, tilting her head slightly with a deadpan expression.
Johanna blinks, momentarily thrown off. "R-Right," she stammers, trying to regain her momentum. "But please, for me?" She pulls out the same puppy dog eyes that Hilda often uses on her.
Zelda groans, seeing right through it. "Fine, but we're skedaddling at the first sign of trouble. Got it?"
"Wonderful," Johanna beams, clapping her hands lightly.
*~~oOo~~*
"Ugh, Mom, c'mon, we're going to be late," Hilda huffs, tapping her foot impatiently, eyes darting to the clock as she stands at the front door waiting.
"Hold yer horses, I'm just getting some snacks together in case we get hungry," Johanna replies, calmly wrapping up sandwiches at the counter, Zelda by her side, "helping."
Zelda catches Hilda's eye, smirking as she slows her movements to an exaggerated, snail-like crawl. Hilda flashes a glare back, fist clenched. If Mum weren't here she would have flipped her off.
"Zelda, don't wind up your sister," Johanna says absently, not even looking up from her task.
"It's literally a short walk away! We won't get hungry!" Hilda groans, throwing her hands up in frustration.
"Well, you never know how long we'll be there," Johanna counters, sliding the snacks into a bag. "Could go past lunch."
"I'm always down for food," Zelda chimes in.
Suddenly, there's a knock at the door.
Hilda rushes to open it. "Hey, Alfur!" she greets, seeing the tiny elf standing on the doorstep. Standing at only 2 inches, he has pale skin, a white tuft of hair, and stubby sticks for arms and legs. The friendly Elf wore an all-red outfit consisting of a red conical hat and tunic.
"Mornin', Hilda! Are you ready for the meeting with the mayor?" Alfur asks, his voice is cheery despite the early hour.
"Almost," Hilda sighs, shooting a glance back inside. "Just waiting for these two. They decided to tag along, last minute."
"Oh, the more the merrier! This should clear things up nicely with the house matron there," Alfur remarks, standing proudly.
Johanna finally joins Hilda at the front door, a bag packed full of food slung over her shoulder. "Alright, let's go," she says, a satisfied smile on her face.
Zelda drags herself out behind her, looking less than enthused. As she steps outside, her white sneaker comes down dangerously close to a trembling Alfur.
"Sis, wait!" Hilda grabs Zelda's arm, yanking her back just in time.
"What now?" Zelda stops, confused, glancing over her shoulder.
"You were about to squish Alfur!" Hilda exclaims, quickly crouching down to scoop the tiny elf into her hands.
"Oh, Alfur's here?" Johanna peers around, squinting as if expecting him to appear from thin air.
"You both really need to sign those papers before we go anywhere," Hilda grumbles, giving them both a pointed look.
Johanna rolls her eyes, while Zelda just shrugs, unbothered.
"Unfortunately, Alfur doesn't have the necessary paperwork right now, so I think it's best if you guys just have a picnic somewhere while we…" Hilda starts, trying to steer her mom and sister away from joining her in visiting the Mayor, despite her enthusiasm earlier.
"Actually," Alfur cuts in, "I've got the necessary forms right here! All prepped in advance, just as I planned. Ah, forward thinking~." He sighs contentedly, a hint of pride in his voice.
"Who said that?" Zelda jolts, eyes going wide as she whips her head around, searching frantically.
"Like I said, Alfur," Hilda repeats, holding out her palm where the tiny elf stands, giving a wave toward an oblivious Zelda.
"Right… Still not used to hearing disembodied voices," Zelda sheepishly chuckles and rubs the back of her neck.
"Let's go sign some paperwork," Hilda sighs, resigned, as she shuts the front door and drags her feet back inside.
*~~oOo~~*
Rushing Mayor
"This clause here," Johanna says, holding a magnifying glass at the document, "'Excessive gawking, staring, or attempting to catch an elf off guard shall be deemed as unwelcome conduct and may result in temporary suspension of visibility rights.' How does that work, Alfur?" She directs her question politely toward where she assumes the invisible Elf is standing.
The living room, once snug and tidy, is now scattered with tiny papers. The family, Alfur, and Twig gather around, with Zelda and Johanna meticulously reviewing the contracts in their palms.
They pore over each article, clause, and footnote in excruciating detail. After every section, they pause to ask questions, confirm details, and then sign off—only to move on to the next part and start the cycle over.
Hilda, on the other hand, is on the verge of pulling out her blue hair. "Just sign it already!" she exclaims, her impatience growing by the minute. She's spent the last half-hour listening to dry, tedious legal jargon while her desire to escape into the outdoors pulls at her relentlessly.
"Hilda, hold your horses. We just need to make sure everything's in order," Johanna responds. "Now, Alfur, are we not allowed to surprise you elves at all? Or is this more about... etiquette?" She trails off.
Hilda leans over to her sister, whispering, "Psst, how about you, Zel? Think you can just sign all at once and leave them to it?"
Zelda doesn't even look up from the document in her hands. "No, thank you. I prefer to be thorough when signing something that involves giving away my personal identity and consent," she says with her usual dry tone. "Who knows what I'm agreeing to,"
"Here, here!" Alfur pipes up. "By the way, it's hard not to hear what you're whispering when we're all in the same room, you know," he adds.
With an exaggerated sigh, Hilda slumps back onto the couch and grabs Twig from the floor, absentmindedly petting his fur to calm herself down.
"Are you sure you aren't adopted? Cause we're having a splendid time here," Zelda teases, making Hilda grumble insults her way.
"Zelda, be nice to your sister," Johanna says absentmindedly, flipping another page of the contract. "And Hilda, be patient. We're almost done."
"Well, you can forget about it—we're late!" Hilda says, her finger pointing to the clock.
Everyone's heads whip toward it, eyes widening as the realization hits.
"Oh dear, we are late!" Johanna states the obvious.
"Quick, sign here, here, and there!" Alfur squeaks, waving his tiny hand over the contract. In a frantic rush, they scribble their signatures on the miniature papers, barely legible, but it'll do.
The front door flings open, and they tumble out in a flurry. Zelda momentarily flinches at the sun, while Hilda immediately bolts out to enjoy the cool fresh outside air, away from all the stuffy paperwork.
Johanna locks up the front door with a swift turn of the key. "How much time do we have left?" She calls over her shoulder.
"Ten minutes!" Alfur announces, hopping onto Hilda's blue hair.
"We'll never make it," Zelda groans.
"Not if we book it!" Hilda shouts, exchanging a determined look with Johanna as they brace for a sprint. Zelda, on the other hand, stands planted, giving the whole situation an unenthusiastic glare.
"Ugh, running?" Zelda's small whine goes unheard, except for Twig and Alfur who shoot a sympathetic look her way.
"Come on!" Hilda calls out, already taking off. She waves her arms to hurry the others along as she and Johanna break into a swift pace, their breaths measured, their legs eating up the distance with ease. Twig, ever faithful, bounds alongside them, his small paws scattering dirt as he keeps up.
Zelda reluctantly starts jogging, but quickly falls behind, her steps dragging.
Hilda glances over her shoulder, catching sight of her sister's brown head further shrinking in the distance. She turns to Twig, barely breaking her stride.
"Best if you stay with her, boy," Hilda calls to the deerfox, who gives a small, understanding nod. With a quick turn, Twig dashes back toward Zelda, whose pace has slowed to more of a disgruntled shuffle. He circles her, trying to keep her moving.
Ahead, Hilda and Johanna continue their sprint, pushing through the valley with ease. Alfur clings tightly to Hilda's ear, his tiny body nearly flung off at their breakneck speed. "Keep it up, we're only 100 elf miles away!" he shouts, squinting ahead.
"100?! Isn't that, like, super far? I thought an elf mile was just 150 feet?" Hilda questions, the confusion evident in her voice as she jumps over the uneven terrain.
"Who told you that?" Alfur scoffs. "An elf mile is about 25 human feet!"
"Ha! So Zelda was wrong!" Hilda exclaims—,
Thud
But she nearly stumbles in the process, narrowly avoiding stepping on a tiny elf house buried in a hill.
"Hilda, focus!" Johanna snaps, steadying her with a quick grab of her arm. "We've got five minutes!" She says from a glance at her watch.
"Right, sorry!" Hilda blushes, shaking off the conversation as they push forward, the clock ticking down, the goal now so close yet so far.
As they hurry along, Johanna slows down and takes in the sea of tiny houses populating the valley. She never knew an invisible society of Elves lived just outside their door. However, this newfound awareness comes with the added difficulty of carefully manoeuvring around them to not step on the poor things.
Johanna already dreads how she'll do lawnmowering in the future.
"We're here!" Alfur announces in relief. "—And just in the nick of time!"
Hilda slows to a walk, panting slightly as they reach a white town hall building.
A two-story structure, and somewhat plain architecture, sits atop a boulder, asserting its presence over the county. Johanna falls into step beside her daughter, glancing around for Zelda, who has yet to appear.
"Not bad, Mum," Hilda laughs, and the two share a small smile.
"Now remember, allow me to handle the introductions; there is a protocol," Alfur warns them, hopping down to the front steps of the building. Wherein he stands in front of a large staircase, the whole first floor dedicated to a walkway staircase leading to the second storey. That's elven architecture everyone.
He pulls on a pulley, ringing a bell that signals the start of fanfare music. A red carpet rolls down the steps, and out comes the Mayor, showered in automated praise. His little legs stride through the commotion, a stout figure with a beard, in a white suit and top hat, carrying a fat, pregnant cat.
As he approaches, his eyes narrow, confronting the giants at his door with a gruff impatience. Alfur stands poised, bowing slightly. "Honorable Mayor, may I introduce—"
"Yeah, yeah, I know who you lot are," the Mayor interrupts, shushing Alfur as he strides past him. "The giant, the menace!"
Hilda and Johanna narrow their eyes.
"Oh dear," Alfur gulps, dreading the upcoming confrontation.
The Mayor continues, his voice dripping with disdain. "So, you finally notice us now, can you? Took you long enough!"
Hilda scoffs "Are you kidding? How can we notice you if we can't see you?"
"Young lady, the forms are very straightforward and widely available from any authorized Elven figures." The Mayor sputters, gesturing to Alfur. "We've had enough! Of your ruthless occupation! I say good riddance to you—the wild blue-haired girl in the big red boots and the grey quiet one."
Before Hilda can reply, Johanna steps in.
"Ahem! Excuse me, but that's my daughter you're speaking to," Johanna interjects.
"Mum I-I," Hilda tries to stop her.
"Oh, it's you again," the Mayor snaps, pointing a stubby arm to her. "My predecessor and all Elven folk celebrated when your family moved away. But nooo, you had to come back! Bringing those little tykes along with you!" He spits on the ground in front of him.
"I beg your pardon!" Johanna stomps forward, the ground shaking the nearby elf houses. With a livid expression, she began shouting in the Mayor's face.
"If you think you can insult my family that way again I'll take that silly little top hat and shove it up your—!"
"Ah, there it is! The giant's wrath! What are you gonna do? Vandalize my town hall now? Attack our historic city!?" The Mayor provokes, stroking his white beard as he stands defiantly to the mother-daughter pair.
"Mum please." Hilda manages to pull her back before levelling a stern gaze at the Mayor "We're not here to attack. We're here to negotiate. We didn't even know you existed until recently."
"Pure ignorance!" the Mayor barks.
"You're invisible!" Hilda retorts, throwing up her hands.
Alfur steps between them, waving his hands. "Let's all take a breather, yeah?" He chuckles awkwardly, glancing between the two sides. "Well... this's not exactly how I imagined our round of negotiation would go."
Both sides glare at a standoff. Alfur coughs, wearing a deadpan expression "My point exactly."
Hilda is the first to drop her gaze, exhaling as she steps back. Johanna crosses her arms, clearly holding back, but begrudgingly follows her daughter's lead.
A sharp, whining meow slices through the tension. Angelina, the Mayor's cat, purrs and rubs against his legs.
"My poor Angelina!" the Mayor gasps, scooping her up. His voice softens as he strokes her fur. "Please, lower your voices. She's in distress. And heavily pregnant." He emphasizes by showing off her fat belly.
"But you were the one who—" Johanna begins but Hilda shoots her a sharp look, and Johanna swallows the rest of her words, settling for a frustrated sigh.
Hilda kneels slightly, lowering herself to the Mayor's eye level. He haughtily looks away, his nose in the air.
"We apologize," Hilda says, her voice calm, trying to defuse the situation. "We really didn't know. I love my home, and I don't want to leave it. Please there must be a way we can live together peacefully." She lowly pleads.
The Mayor's face tightens as he turns to the girl. "I'm afraid that's impossible. Your stomping causes tremors. You're very loud, you keep babies awake, your lights are far too bright at night, and you're always stepping on us." He says as a matter-of-factly.
"But stepping on you doesn't hurt if you haven't signed the forms," Hilda points out. "I saw Twig's legs go through one of your houses unharmed."
"Still traumatizing to see a foot coming through your ceiling!" The Mayor huffs.
Hilda glances at Alfur, who gives her a silent nod, confirming the truth in the Mayor's words.
The Mayor didn't relent as he continued "—Unintentional or not, the damage you and you're family caused is irreversible. Not only to the elves, but others too. Every creature is affected by your presence. Woff's, Trolls, Forest Giant, and especially our local Forest Spirit—Woodman."
He rubs his eyes and sighs heavily, his eyes falling back to the cat in his arms. "Why my poor Angelina here she's..." He pauses, "S-She's been through so much. This is her second pregnancy. She lost her first litter because of the stress."
Hilda lurches at the thought of it. She instinctively reaches for her mum's hand, squeezing it as the weight of his words settles in.
"Fetch the cot, please," the Mayor orders, his voice quieter now. Alfur solemnly salutes and quickly returns with a small cot. The Mayor gently lays Angelina down, stroking her fur. "There, there, my dear."
Hilda takes a step forward, her voice is soft and sincere. "We're really sorry for all the pain and distress my family have caused. W-We didn't know."
She hesitates before carefully continuing.
"If we promise to turn off our lights earlier, keep our voices down, and be careful when we go outside... will you stop the attacks? Please, don't evict us."
The Mayor sighs, his shoulders slumping. "It doesn't work like that."
Hilda's heart sinks. "It doesn't?"
He shakes his head. "Wheels are already in motion. Plans are in motion, letters sent, and forms are being filed in... So many forms." He shudders.
Johanna steps in "You're the Mayor. Surely you have the authority can do something."
"I'm only the Mayor," he replies, throwing up his arms. "The orders come from the very top—from the Prime Minister. It's out of my hands!" He glances at his arms with a snort. "And I don't even have hands!" He flails his arms dramatically.
"Then we'll take it up with the Prime Minister," Hilda declares, resolute. "Where can we find him?" She requests right up his face.
The Mayor leans back and crosses arms. "I won't disclose that. It's classified."
"Tell us, please," Hilda pleads, stepping closer.
"No, I—"
Meow
Angelina's soft meow cuts through the tense silence. Unbeknownst to anyone, she has sneakily crawled her way into Hilda's blue hair, curling up contentedly in the strands, purring in satisfaction.
"Angelina!" The Mayor's eyes widen, and with a startled leap, his tiny legs bounce as he reaches for her. Before he can grab his pet, Hilda straightens up, gently cupping the pile of blue hair where the cat has nestled. Pulling her out of the Mayor's tiny reach.
"Wha—give her back!" The Mayor's voice wavers between fear and fury, his tiny fists shaking in the air as he sees his beloved pet in Hilda's grasp.
"Hilda!" Johanna scolds at her daughter's sudden action. Even Alfur looks shocked at the unexpected turn of events.
"Mum, he won't tell us where the Prime Minister is," Hilda defends herself. "Besides, I won't dare hurt the poor thing. I'm just gonna make sure she lives in my hair forever." She smirks.
Her words taunt the Mayor "Oooh! You fiend, you brute! I can't believe I ever opened up to you!" He stomps the ground, his little frame trembling with indignation.
"Hilda, we don't take other people's pets," Johanna's voice is calm, but her eyes speak volumes, a stern motherly gaze that makes Hilda flinch.
"Hilda, we don't hold people's pets hostage," Johanna berates her, stepping forward, her voice low but commanding. Under her stare, Hilda hesitates, her resolve wavering slightly. Her mother took a breath before softening "This isn't how we solve problems."
She places a hand on her shoulder as Hilda looks to the ground.
"We can't resort to such things just because it's easier," Johanna continues, her eyes not leaving Hilda's. "In moments like these where we have the choice to push, to demand, but the right path is rarely the simplest one." She holds out her hands.
"We do things properly, no matter how long or hard it takes."
Hilda's eyes look around as she mulls over her mother's lesson. Before finally she hands over Angelina, her gaze softening as she makes eye contact with her Mum. Johanna gently cradles the cat before passing her back to the Mayor, who snatches her up.
He pulls her close and hugs her tightly, relief flooding his features as he nuzzles into the soft fur.
For a moment, there's silence, and Johanna knows the right words to break it.
"I'm sorry for my daughter's actions," Johanna apologizes as Hilda rubs her arms and shyly digs her boots in the dirt. "We're here to fix things the right way, without resorting to things like this. If you could help us, it would mean everything."
She pauses, letting her words sink in. "Please… If not for us," she adds, nodding toward the purring cat in his arms, "—then for her."
Deep down she knew what she doing what she said those selfish words.
The Mayor looks down at Angelina, then back at her. His jaw clenches, eyes narrowed, but the tension slowly ebbs away. With a weary sigh, he gives in. "Very well," he mutters, "I'll tell you where the Prime Minister is."
Hilda's eyes widen in surprise, and gasps "You mean it?"
"I suppose... diplomacy should be considered before resorting to such drastic measures," the Mayor admits, his gruff demeanour softening. "Perhaps we've all been too blinded by outrage to consider another way."
Alfur, still standing in the middle, breathes a quiet sigh of relief as the Mayor gestures for them to lean in. "Now listen carefully," the Mayor sternly says. "The location of the Prime Minister is highly discreet. I won't repeat myself."
Hilda and Johanna lean in as he whispers the Prime Minister's location.
Pulling back, Hilda's face brightens. "I know that place!"
Johanna nods. "Me too."
"Right, let's go then—" Hilda starts to dash off, but Johanna's hand clamps down on her shoulder, halting her.
"Hold on," Johanna says, raising a hand as her eyes scan the distance. "We need to wait for your sister."
"Oh yeah, I forgot she came with," She chuckles, unabashedly rubbing the back of her hand.
*~~oOo~~*
Calaquendi Elf
A few minutes later on cue, Zelda's brown hair and grey sweater stumble into view, looking quite ragged. "I'm here!" Zelda breathless calls out "I made it,".
Twig, trotting dutifully at her side, gives her a deadpan glance, clearly unimpressed by her sluggish pace.
"Took you long enough," Hilda quips, though there's a teasing grin on her face. "Good news, Zel. The Mayor told us where to find the Prime Minister. He can help us sort out this whole mess with the elves!"
Zelda leans forward, hands on her knees, gasping. "That's nice, Hils. And where exactly is this Prime Minister, then?"
"Up the hiking trail, behind the Fjord!" She bluntly answers. Pointing far off in the distance where the snowcap mountains melt to the waterfall below.
Zelda's eyes widen in disbelief. "You're jokin'. More running?!"
"Not running, hiking," Alfur corrects with a faint smile, clearly trying to soften the blow.
Zelda stares at them all, then flops dramatically onto the grass, well away from any nearby elf houses. "I just got here! My lungs are screamin', my legs are dead, and now you want me to hike up a mountain? I'm nae a miracle worker!"
"Zel, we don't have all day!" Hilda's arms fold as she looks down at her sister.
Zelda waves a limp hand, still lying on the ground. "Can we not take a break? Just five minutes to breathe and maybe, I don't know, eat somethin'? I'm practically wilting here."
Johanna is about to open said bag full of food but Alfur chimes in. "Ah, yes, about that… I'm afraid the Prime Minister's Office hours are rather strict. Nine to five, you see. And we're a touch behind schedule."
"Alfur's right," Hilda pulls on her sister's arm. "C'mon, up you get!"
"No. Nope." Zelda refuses, flopping down even further into the grass. "Like I said. I'm out of breath, I'm exhausted, I'm sweaty, and every step feels like my legs are about to melt off. So unless this Prime Minister is magically going to teleport me there, I'm staying right here!"
Hilda throws her hands up, exasperated. "Why do I even bother?"
"Just five minutes, Hils."
Hilda rolls her eyes. "No. Because five minutes becomes ten, and before you know it, we've missed our chance. I don't want a repeat of the last time we were late!"
Johanna, watching the back-and-forth with a sympathetic smile, steps in. "Maybe we let your sister rest for a bit, Hilda. You and I can go meet with the Prime Minister."
Zelda perks up immediately. "See? Mum's got sense. Off you go. I'll be right here, recoverin'. I'll catch up later—maybe." She says laying sprawl across the grass, with Twig hovering over her with a tilt of his head.
"Fine, but next time we're off on an adventure, you're stickin' with it 'til the end," Hilda shoots back.
"Yeah, yeah," Zelda mutters, barely paying attention as she absentmindedly grabs Twig, who gives a little wriggle, surprised.
"Oh, and by the way, your calculation about an Elf Mile? Completely off. It's 25 human feet, not 150 or whatever you said. Alfur told me." Hilda just had to say it, but Zelda, flat on her back with her arms behind her head, couldn't care less.
Hilda huffs, her lips tight, before turning on her heel and heading towards the Prime Minister's trail, her frustration clear in the quickness of her steps. Mum appears next, looming over Zelda with a paper bag dangling in her hand.
"Here, fuel for the belly," Johanna hands over the lunch, and Zelda mutters a half-hearted thanks, sitting up to grab it, Twig still snuggled in one arm, all squirmy. Zipping her bag full of supplies closed, she turns to her daughter for one last thing.
"If you want to follow us, stick on the trail and try not to get lost okay?"
"Probably just head home, to be honest," Zelda quietly admits, out of Hilda's earshot. Johanna gives a small nod and heads off to catch up with her twin.
Twig gives another wriggle, eyes darting after them, clearly wanting to follow. But as they disappear from sight, he lets out a resigned huff, nose all pouty, and nestles begrudgingly closer into Zelda's arm.
Zelda lies stiffy back on the soft grass, feeling the gentle breeze brush against her skin. Her gaze drifts upward, the sky stretching endlessly, a quiet expanse of blue. There's a stillness to the scene, the kind that makes her usual unease about being outdoors fade just a little, though it lingers beneath the surface.
The clouds shift lazily, drifting across the sky, offering moments of shade that dance over her. She watches them quietly, letting the peaceful landscape settle her nerves, if only for a while. For now, she simply lets it be, the world quiet around her, the vastness of it all almost comforting.
"How long are you planning on staying here," The Mayor pokes the giant girl.
"Wha? Oh, it's you. The Mayor, I assume." Zelda sits up and offers him a handshake. "I'm Zelda by the way, Hilda's twin sister.
The Mayor eyes the hand but doesn't take it. "Yes, yes. I'm well aware. And while I might sympathise with your family's plight on remaining in this valley. I don't appreciate you loitering around any longer." He emphasizes.
"And why is that?" Zelda crosses her arms, standing to her full height, towering over him. "You said it yourself, I've got the same right to be here as anyone else. If I fancy lyin' on the grass for once, then I'm well within my rights." Her tone is calm but firm.
The Mayor takes a deep sigh, containing himself, before looking at his cat "These kids, getting on my nerves. Don't say I didn't try to be polite, Angelina. But—"
"Get off my lawn!" The Mayor hollers eliciting a squeak from the girl "You're crushing my Petunias," His stubby arms point to said flower patch crushed under her.
Zelda winces, rubbing the back of her neck. "Whoops, sorry~." She steps off the flowers, sounding far too much like her sister for her own liking. Realising she's overstayed her welcome, she starts trekking back in the direction of home.
As she moves on, Twig scratches at her heel, a soft whine rising from him.
Zelda stops, looking down at him. "What is it, boy?"
Twig points his snout in the direction where her mum and Hilda disappeared.
"You want me to go after them? Join in their trek to the Prime Minister?"
A little nod from Twig.
Zelda sighs, shaking her head. "Sorry to disappoint Twig, but no way am I risking my life to catch up to them now." She starts. "Do you have the slightest inkling of the ways I can die in the forest? Too many to count I'll tell you, the outside is terrifying." She shudders.
Twig tugs at her sleeve again, the soft whimper pulling at her. She can't help but waver a bit.
"I know, I know. You'd rather be off with them than stuck with boring old me." She lets out another sigh, softening. "Tell you what, though—I'll make it up to you once we're back at the cabin."
Twig tilts his head, ears flopping to the side.
"How 'bout we play your favourite game, Egg Hunt?" At that, his ears perk right up, and Zelda chuckles at the sudden shift, watching his tail wagging excitedly.
"I'm glad we've come to an agreement," Zelda mutters with a soft, content smile, eyes shut in quiet amusement as her hand absently strokes Twig's head.
The deerfox, now settled, falls in step beside her as they start their long trek back to the house. Which was 200 elf miles, or roughly a human mile away.
As they walk, Zelda's gaze wanders to once hidden world around her. At first, the scale of it was a little off-putting— houses, roads, and people, all so minuscule in comparison. She steps lightly, instinctively cautious, her eyes flicking from one tiny structure to the next.
There's a rhythm to this place, subtle but present. The longer she walked, the clearer it became.
There's a post office tucked into the crook of a towering root, its door creaking open as a flurry of letters get whisked away by tiny hands.
A fire station next to it, with a miniature bell perched on the roof. Beyond that, a guard house, the pointed ears of Elven sentinels barely peeking over the walls as they watch her pass by with wide-eyed caution.
Office buildings that look like houses line the streets, peeking in you can spot a busy Elf typing away a stack of paperwork which is then transported into a nearby library. So many libraries, Zelda points out, their shelves bulging with endless paperwork.
And lastly, are the taverns bustling with quiet chatter and merry chants of rowdy Elves, with a cup of brew in their hands.
Twig pads along, his snout twitching as the scent of hearth fires and simmering meals drifts from the chimneys above. He sniffs the air, intrigued, pausing here and there at the doorways of taverns and pubs, curious and maybe hungry.
Zelda watches him with a small smile, her mind reeling at the realization that this isn't some quaint hamlet or village—it's a living, breathing city.
As they pass by all this, she notices the hush that follows her.
Eyes peek out from windows, faces duck behind curtains. Conversations fade into murmurs as the enormous human girl strolls by. A few Elves even scatter, fleeing her looming shadow like startled birds.
It's only when she nearly stumbles upon an older Elf lady that she snaps from her reverie. The Elf dressed in a flowing white gown and missing the iconic Elf cone atop her head to show off her long and pristine twin-tail hair.
The Elf lady has her nose buried deep in a large, ancient-looking book, completely absorbed in its pages. She meanders down the path, oblivious to everything around her, including the giant figure blocking her way.
Zelda halts just in time, her breath catching as the woman bumps straight into her white sneakers with a soft thud. The Elf sprawls backwards onto the grass with a startled "Oof!" The book flies out of her hands, landing a few feet away, its pages splayed open on the ground.
"Excuse me, are you alright?" Zelda crouches down, concern etched across her face. She reaches out a hand but hesitates, suddenly aware of how massive it must seem to the dazed Elf below.
"Oh~, I'm fine just a little rattled is all." The Elf Lady says, rubbing her back. She then proceeds to look around for her missing book.
"You should pay more attention to your surroundings, Ma'am," Zelda says, pinching to grab her book before depositing it back in her arms.
The Elf lady looks up in surprise to see she is actually talking to a giant girl. "Oh, you can see me now?" She says, in surprise.
"Yes, Ma'am. Signed the forms and all."
The Elf's expression shifted, her lips curling into a wry smile. "Hmm, well that's a bother. I suppose now I must take care where I tread."
"Not exactly something you should be lettin' happen anyway, don't you think?"
The Elf gives a small, indifferent shrug. "Ah, but before, it wasn't a concern. Your feet, as you put it, would have passed right through me." She waved a hand dismissively as if the whole concept of being squashed by a giant wasn't all that troubling.
"Sorry for the inconvenience, Ma'am?" Zelda offers, a bit unsure how to feel about being physically present now.
"No worries, young warrior,"
Zelda raises an eyebrow, barely hiding her amusement. "Young warrior, me?" She says, mockingly pointing at herself.
"Yes, you. You've got the spirit of one inside you," Told the old Elf, pointing her finger at her chest.
Zelda chuckles "Ma'am, I'm afraid you've got me mixed up with my twin, Hilda. She's the one with the warrior spirit. I'm more well… Not that." She says with an offhanded wave.
The Elf shakes her head, undeterred "No, no. I'm rarely mistaken. It's you, without a doubt, who's got the warrior's spirit." She insists.
"If you say so," Zelda raises a brow, amused but deciding to play along not wanting to argue with the elderly.
"But please call me by my name, Frielen. All this Ma'am nonsense is making me feel old. I'm only a thousand years old after all," Frielen says with a wink.
"Well please to meet you Frielen. I'm Zelda," She offers her handshakes which the tiny Elf accepts clasping her hands with her own.
She freezes mid-shake as suddenly the rest of her words sink in "Wait—hold on, you're a thousand years old?!" She exclaims, her shriek shaking the ground slightly.
"Don't shout, young warrior! I might be old, but I'm not deaf!" Frielen scolds, rubbing her large, pointed ears with a frown.
"Sorry!" Zelda cringes, then leans in, lowering her voice in a dramatic whisper, with Twig even joining in "Are all Elves... immortal?"
Frielen snorts. "No, no, young warrior. I'm a different race of Elf."
Zelda tilts her head in curiosity. "A different race?"
Frielen nods. "Mhm, like there are different races of humans."
Zelda leans in closer, intrigued. "So, what are you then, if you don't mind me asking?"
With a nonchalant shrug, Frielen replies, "Oh, I'm a Calaquendi Elf."
"A Cala... Cala-kwen-dy what now?" Zelda butchers the pronunciation, blinking in confusion.
Frielen just chuckles softly. "Close enough." She says with a wave of her hand.
"It's a long exposition young warrior, basically the distinction between us and other Elven folk is that, one we're nigh immortal and the second-," Frielen lifts her arms to Zelda.
Zelda squints, leaning in closer, only just realizing what she hadn't noticed before, given Frieren's small stature. "Wait... you have hands!" she gasps.
"Mh-hm," Frielen hums, her wriggling fingers on display, a subtle smirk tugging at her lips. "High five."
Zelda blinks in disbelief, but instinct takes over. She awkwardly raises her hand and meets Frieren's palm with hers, the soft smack confirming the Elf's solid presence. They stare at each other for a moment, the air still between them, as if both are trying to process the strange connection.
After what feels like an eternity, Frielen sits up and pats down her dress, tucking her old tome under her arm. "Welp, I should be on my way," she says, dusting herself off casually. "It's been... quite some time since I've spoken to one of your kind. I assumed they'd gotten rid of you all."
"That's hardly surprising considering we're the only humans around for miles," Zelda says, standing up and brushing grass off her clothes.
"Hm... Thank you again, young warrior. I'll be on my way." Frielen gives her a wave, already burying her face back in her book as she starts to wander away. "Until we meet again,"
"Bye, Frielen," Zelda returns the gesture, watching as she disappears into the distance.
She barely catches the Elf's muttered words, carried on the breeze, "I wasn't talking about humans~."
Zelda's brows furrow. "What do you—wait, where did she go?" she spins around, but Frielen has vanished into thin air.
Zelda and Twig exchange a baffled glance, silently shrugging before they both turn to head home, still confused about what the Calaquendi Elf had meant.
*~~oOo~~*
Egg Hunt
"Home sweet home," Zelda sighs, stepping through the door, and closing it shut with a soft thud. Twig bounds in after her, tail wagging, his hooves tapping eagerly at her feet.
"Want to play Egg Hunt now?" Zelda asks with a grin, bending down to his level.
Twig barks softly, eyes bright and ready.
"Alright, fine~," She laughs, racing toward the kitchen, and grabbing a tray of eggs from the fridge "I'm sure Mum won't mind,"
Egg tray in hand she returns to Twig. "You know the rules, boy. I hide them, you find them!" She says, twirling a finger at him to face the wall, to which he does so with a wag of his tail.
The house soon becomes a playground. Zelda scurries around the living room, tucking eggs into obscure places.
One slips into the crack between the couch cushions and another gets hidden under the throw blanket draped across the armchair.
She sneaks one behind a stack of books by the window and wedges another in the corner of the kitchen, snug between the toaster and the blender.
Twig, whose back is turned, sits patiently, his body tense with anticipation. His ears twitch, swivelling slightly as they pick up every sound Zelda makes.
"Ready!" Zelda calls, standing in the centre of the living room, feet bouncing slightly in anticipation.
Twig's ears perk up, and at her signal, he's off! His small hooved feet pad softly against the floor as he darts toward the couch first.
With determined energy, he uses his little antlers to poke and prod at the cushions, managing to nudge one egg loose. With a triumphant huff, he carries it proudly in his mouth, his eyes gleaming with the thrill of the hunt.
"Good boy! Now where's the next one?" she teases, hands on her hips.
Twig dashes around, sniffing wildly. His paws slip slightly on the kitchen floor as he makes tight turns, a blur of white fur and excitement. He zips over to the bookshelf, nudging the egg out from behind the stack of books. The moment he spots it, he leaps forward, snatching it up with a playful flick of his tail.
Then, he races to the kitchen corner, his tiny hooves clicking against the tiles. He sniffs eagerly around the appliances, and with a swift nudge of his antlers, he uncovers the last egg nestled between the toaster and the blender. His expression is one of sheer triumph as he scampers back to Zelda, all three eggs proudly displayed on the floor in front of her.
"Good job, boy," Zelda praises, beaming down at Twig. "Now you may reap your rewards!"
Twig doesn't hesitate, diving into his spoils with unrestrained enthusiasm. He crunches through the delicate shells, savouring the rich taste of the yolk that fills his mouth.
He nibbles eagerly, his tiny hooves tapping on the floor as he shifts around, trying to find the best position to devour his feast.
"While you ruthlessly devour your prey," Zelda chuckles, shaking her head, "I'm going to set up the next round." She glances around the room, her mind racing with creative hiding spots as she prepares for the next egg hunt.
20 minutes later…
After multiple rounds and one empty egg tray later, both of them flopped onto the sofa, breathless and worn out. Twig's belly is full, having "feasted" on all the eggs, and he sprawls lazily, his fluffy tail thumping lightly against the cushions.
Zelda chuckles, wiping a bead of sweat from her brow. "Still think it'd be fun going along with those two?" She asks, glancing at Twig.
Twig makes a soft whine, his eyes drooping but still managing to nod in response.
"Oh, come on, boy." Zelda shakes her head, laughing. "No offence, but they'll be fine without you." She leans back, stretching her legs out.
Twig lets out a small bark as if to argue.
"It's not like they're going to be attacked by a rabbit cavalry or something," Zelda teases, ruffling his fur.
*~~oOo~~*
"We're being attacked by the Rabbit Cavalry!" Alfur screams, his tiny voice barely audible over the thundering of tiny rabbit paws.
"Run!" Johanna shouts, her eyes wide in panic as she pulls Hilda along, dodging the relentless bunnies.
Hilda, Johanna, and Alfur sprint down the mountainous path, desperately trying to outrun the stampede of rabbits. Each rabbit is ridden by an Elf in police garb and wearing that tall bearskin headdress.
"I wish Twig were here!" Hilda cries as the rabbits close in.
*~~oOo~~*
"Yup, they'll be fine," She shrugs it off, closing her eyes for a moment of rest. "I'm beat, Twig. We'll continue playing after a short break."
Twig gives a quick nod, then bounds over to his cot in the living room. He circles the cushions a few times, pausing to paw at them with his tiny feet. Satisfied, he lowers himself down, curling into a tight ball. With a contented sigh, his ears flicker once before his eyes slowly drift shut, already drifting off to sleep.
"Or maybe not," She chuckles.
Feeling restless, Zelda hops off the couch, adjusting the red scarf around her neck. She heads upstairs, legs wobbling with each step, the exhaustion from the day catching up to her. Her initial plan was to grab a book from her shelf for some light reading, but her eyes lingered on a picture frame.
A family photo from a picnic, with an extra familiar face in the middle.
"Auntie Astrid," she whispers.
Her aunt, an ample elderly woman with greying cerulean hair, tied together by a simple stick, stands out. She's wrapped in warm clothes, sandals on her feet, adorned with bracelets, necklaces, and all sorts of trinkets that clink softly in Zelda's memory. A smile tugs at her lips as she recalls their last visit when she and Hilda were just ten.
With a soft sigh, she rummages through her belongings, searching for something. She pulls out a small, handmade charm—a gift from Aunt Astrid. The charm, crafted from an Oak Tree called a Dair, is said to grant courage.
"She said you're supposed to help me face going outside," Zelda murmurs, turning the trinket over in her hand. "But I doubt you can fix that," she chuckles, though there's a warmth in her voice, fondness for her aunt clear despite her scepticism.
Her irrational fear of the outside feels too big for a mere piece of wood to tackle.
She remembers Hilda's gift—a river stone said to offer protection. That stone had quickly become a skipping stone at the lake, not that Auntie Astrid would have minded. Zelda smiles at the thought, the charm still clutched in her hand.
Taking a deep breath, she sits at her desk, pulls out a pen and paper, and begins composing a letter.
"Dear Aunt Astrid,
I'm writing to you to update you on what's been going on in our secluded life out here in the wilderness. Recently we got into a feud with the hidden people called an Elf. Stuffy creatures, they are, and very iffy on paperwork. So strict that they remain invisible to those who haven't signed the proper forms. They demand us to leave the valley and our home.
But you know Hilda, she won't go down without a fight. As I write to you now, she's off with Mum and a friendly elf named Alfur on their way to resolve the situation with their Prime Minister.
To be honest, I'm not confident they'll succeed, and sooner or later we'll probably end up moving to Trolberg anyway. If not the elves driving us off, it'll be the Trolls, Forest Giants, Giant Butterflies, or maybe even the Woodman.
I hate the Woodman, he steals some of my Manga without me looking.
Enough about me. How's life been on Tofoten? When are you planning for your next visit? Provided we don't get kicked out of our home.
If you do decide to visit, can you stop by the bookstore there on Tofoten to buy some books for me?
All the best in the world,
Your niece, Zelda."
Three days pass before the letter finally reaches Tofoten.
Inside a certain tower, Aunt Astrid sits comfortably, sipping her tea as she finishes reading. A soft smile graces her face as she places the letter down on a small table. At her feet, Loam, her ever-faithful companion, snoozes peacefully.
Loam is no ordinary creature—she's a sentient slab of dirt, with patches of grass growing on top and long legs, a quadruped. Astrid absently pets the tufts of grass on her back, watching as the blades sway under her hand.
"Well, it certainly has been a while since we visited, hasn't it, Loam?" Astrid muses, glancing down at him. "What do you think? Fancy a trip to the woods to see the family?"
At the mention of a visit, Loam perks up instantly, shaking excitedly, little clumps of soil shifting in her enthusiasm.
Astrid chuckles at her response. "Alright then, let's not keep them waiting! A surprise visit it is.".
*~~oOo~~*
End Scene
Chapter Three – Angelina the Cat
*~~oOo~~*
A/N: Originally, this was supposed to be in Chapter 2, but ideas got in the way. Basically, chapters 2, 3 and 4 are supposed to be in the same chapter but that's way too long and grueling to write.
Zelda assumes 1 elf mile equals 150 feet. Which is actually the correct measurement in that ratio, but cartoons are cartoons.
In actuality 1 elf mile equals 25 feet.
And 1 human mile equals 5280 feet.
Don't fight me on this calculation as it took me a MINUTE to estimate.
Here's another calculation you might be interested in;
Your Reviews/Comments plus My Lazy Ass Writing equals More Chapters Posted
Cross-posted on Wattpad, can't post on AO3 right now cause my previous account got hacked, so sad.
Fun fact Fanfic net doesn't let you do links and Math Operations, plus and equals are off the table folks!
Est. Word Count: 9000+
Published Date: October 21, 2024
*~~oOo~~*
Reviews
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Leave a Review! My reply will be in the respective chapter you posted the review at! As Fanfic writers, we do this shit for free and in our own volition!
Kudos to: DEV, Tziput13, and axelkurian121
DEV: "Another great chapter. It really made my day. An elf based on a species of elf from Lord of the Rings was unexpected, but not unwelcomed. Johanna joining the negotiations was a good way to involve her with her children. Plus, it's always good to get more Johanna anyway. I also support the inclusion of more fairy stuff, especially with Aunt Astrid coming. I hope to see Trolberg, the Midnight Giant, and Aunt Astrid in future installments. Keep up the good work."
- Another great review! My DEV friend here picked up on some Lord of the Rings references, so here's a fun fact: both Lord of the Rings and Hilda the Series draw inspiration from the same source—Irish mythology. Look it up! Sauron's Eye and Trundle are inspired by Balor, the Evil Eye. The fairies in Hilda and the elves in LOTR share roots with the Tuatha de Danann, a mythical people who moved to an undying land where they didn't age and lived without struggles.
Johanna joining her daughter's adventure adds a much-needed touch to this story, giving it the potential for plot changes due to her involvement. That said, not every chapter will shift dramatically. Expect a lot more fairy lore since the series barely explored it in the rushed Season 3. Aunt Astrid tagging along was a spontaneous idea that will make Book 1 longer than I initially planned. Zelda was supposed to write a letter to Anders in this chapter, but I'll save that for later when I bring the deadbeat dad into the story.