Series summary:Even the strongest bond, the most loving family, can be broken by nightmares, and Maven is soo to learn this. A little background on the amazing character that is the librarian, her family, and, most importantly: what happened to it
Chapter summary: Johanna might not know what Hilda’s hair means, but Maven does: it means that, in this moment the girl is the only person that can help her
(Chpt1) (chpt2)
TW:There’s a little blood mention. Read under the “read more” to skip it.
She was gardening outside. The moonlight illuminated her extensive flowerbed, and for the first time since she was five and dropped an acid potion on them, her roses just wouldn’t bloom.
They lay wilted on the ground, the bushes not strong enough to support themselves. It was a truly macabre vision, especially with the putrid smell coming from the rotting plants.
But then, the bushes began to move. The twigs began to intertwine and form a figure. Maven watched horrified as her deep red roses began to melt into blood, and the plants form a four meters tall troll-like creature.
As the blood dripped down the leaves, the librarian raised her gaze to see strings attached to her once-a-rose-bush, just the way a puppet would have. At the end of the strings, controlling the troll, was her sister. Her face bigger than the Moon, her body seeming to disappear behind the trees staring down at her with angry, green eyes and a Cheshire like grin
“You failed me.” Myra hissed. “You failed me, and I’ll never forget you. You failed me and you shall DIE”
Maven’s surroundings dropped as if made of paper, like would happen if one cut the corners of a cardboard box, giving way to nothing but darkness all around her, her sister’s legs going lower than the ground, making her feel like an ant on a platform.
“Myra, I’m sorry!” Maven cried, tears streaming down her face. “Sister, please come- please c-come back!” She stuttered as she dropped to her knees before the flower monster, her tears mixing with the blood on the ground.
“NEVER” The Marra shouted, and with a movement of her hand, made the troll raise it’s hand, ready to strike the librarian.
“Madam!”
The librarian woke up with a start at the child like voice and the small hand on her shoulder. When she could focus better, the nightmare finally releasing her from its crutches, she saw a young face and long blue hair. The Hilda girl, she recognized.
“Where am I?” She asked as she tried to control her beating heart.
“Safe.” Came another voice, a more mature one. Johanna offered her a cup of coffee as she sat on the bed at Maven’s feet, and she happily accepted. “The kids found you this evening passed out near the woods. We didn’t know where you live, and we just couldn’t leave you there, so we brought you here. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Um, no, of course I don’t. Thank you. Can you tell me exactly where you found me?”
“You em were lying at the gates to the Huldrawood when we went out to get a badge. Why were you there?”
“You were crying in your sleep.” Hilda pointed at Maven’s puffy eyes and wet cheeks before she could answer the first question. “Are you okay?”
The librarian took a deep breath and looked out of the window near the bed. “If I said yes I’d be lying.”
“What happened?” Asked another kid from the other side of the room, near the girl Maven usually saw him with. So, the whole trio was there.
“That’s was none of you business, kid” Maven spatted and regretted it immediately when everyone’s faces fell. They had taken her out of the streets and welcomed her into their home. The least she could do was be grateful.
“I think I just lost the person I love the most.” It was obvious in the boy’s face he had come to regret his question.
“Can you tell us who that was?” Hilda asked gently, and Johanna glared at her.
“Hilda! That’s not polite!”
“No, that’s fine.” Maven said as she sipped her coffee. “It was my younger sister.”
“Oh.” Johanna’s face filled with sympathy for the librarian. “I’m sorry for your loss. How did she die?”
Maven twisted her nose. “Die? Who said anything about dying?”
“W-well, but if she didn’t die maybe you can still get back to her.” The girl she recognized as the biggest bookworm in town after herself spoke for the first time, and Maven sighed.
“I doubt that. She made a bad decision. And I didn’t stop her. And when it was done, I only judged her. I promised I’d always protect her. And I failed” She spit out, chocking with unshed tears.
“Hey, if you don’t try, you’ll never know!” Came yet another voice. She looked at the bedside table and gaped at what she saw.
“An elf?” Maven spat in surprise.
“You can see him?” Hilda asked, just as surprised the librarian could see Alfur as the librarian was at seeing him. “You have signed elf paperwork?”
“Why of course I have! What kind of witch doesn’t have elf paperwork!”
Maven realized those were the wrong words the moment they came out of her mouth. She just couldn’t belive her carelessness. How could she give them that information!?
“You’re a witch?!” David asked wide-eyed, and Maven stood a little straighter.
“Yes, I am.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful!” Alfur chirped. “Witches are the only kind of humans elves usually get along with. No offense.” He said looking at the other people in the room.
“Witch or not, it doesn’t matter. You need help. What can we do?” Johanna asked, and Maven sighed in relief as she realized that this friendship wouldn’t be ruined by ignorance as many others were before.
“I’m afraid there’s nothing to do. Nothing can undo what happened to my Myra.” Maven lifted her head abruptly, an old ritual coming to mind. “Unless...”
She turned her head and faced Hilda, a plan forming on her thoughts already. “Unless what?”, the child asked.
But before she could get her hopes high, Maven realized she couldn’t be selfish enough to let her wishes get in the way of a kid’s safety. “Forget it, Hildie. It’s nothing.”
A heavy atmosphere intruded the room, and silence hung heavily around them.
“Frida, David, your parents must be preoccupied. Hilda, can you walk home with them?” Johanna asked softly to her child, who looked like she would discuss before her mother lifted her eyebrows, and she realized it was not the time to question her mother’s attitudes.
“Yes, mum. I’ll take the opportunity to take twig out for a walk. Come on, guys.”
The door closed behind the children, and Johanna took her gaze from them to her guest. “There is a way to help you. You just don’t want to say it.” It was more a statement then a question, and a right one. “I’ll go get us something to eat, and then we can discuss it, okay?”
Maven nodded with her head hanging low, until Johanna put her hand on the librarian’s shoulder, making her look up at the older woman, a blush warming her neck and creeping up to her face at the proximity.
“Okay.” She whispered as her host left the room.
After a few minutes of uneasy thoughts and shifting movements from Maven’s part, Johanna was back with a bowl full of cookies. Before she could even offer the snack, the librarian began speaking, wishing to end this as soon as she could. And if there was any remote chance that she could get what she needed and have her little sister back, she was taking it.
“Who is the father?” She asked rather harshly. “Who is Hilda’s father.”
Johanna sat down at Maven’s feet again, blushing prettily, and the librarian had to admit the colour looked rather nice on her. “I- er, I don’t know.”
Maven gaped at her with her mouth open like a fish. She’d never been one to judge people, and she was a firm believer that one could do what they wanted with their body, but the sweet artist hadn’t gave the impression that she was that kind of person.
At Maven’s reaction, Johanna was quick to clasp her hands over her mouth, and the pink on her face turned to green. “What, NO! Oh Gods, it’s not what you’re thinking! Hilda- Hilda was adopted is what I mean!”
Maven’s jaw snapped shut and she cursed herself for jumping to conclusions. The poor woman looked like she was going to faint before her.
“I beg your pardon. I should have worded my doubts. So you mean you didn’t get to meet her biological parents?”
“Er, no, I didn’t.” She murmured as she fiddled with a biscuit on her hand. “I found her in the woods, actually. I had gone to my grandfather’s cabin to see if I could find some inspiration. The day I ventured farther into the forest, I heard a baby weeping. Oh, Maven, she was so young and she was <em>alone</em>. I couldn’t leave her there. I took her in and fell in love with her.” At the end of the explanation, Johanna was in tears.
“The two of you are perfect together. I’m glad you found each other. Does she know?”
Johanna gave her a dry little laugh. “Yeah, she does. Not like it’s easy to keep something from her, anyway.”
“And do you know why she was abandoned?” Maven quirked an eyebrow.
“Of course not! All I know is that they were monsters if they couldn’t even care for the safety of their child!” Johanna spatted and the Maven could feel all the suppressed rage beneath her skin. The mother might not know, but the witch? Oh, the witch had seen this story a thousand times.
“Let me tell you something. Surely, at this point of your life, you have already realized that some hair colours are... normal. Expected. Within the realm of possibility, let’s say. But I’ll ask you something: have you ever seen anyone other than Hilda with blue hair?”
Johanna furrowed her brow as she searched her memory for the image of someone with such unusual hair colour. “No, I can’t say I have. But I imagine it’s some kind of genetic diversion or something? The doctors could never put their fingers on it.”
Maven pinched the bridge of her nose, stressed to see the culture passed from mother to daughter amongst her kind so lost to most people. “Oh my- no, Johanna, I’m afraid it has nothing to do with genetics. Or science, even. When one is born with an unnatural hair colour, it is believed that this person has magical gifts, is, let’s say, prone to engage in witchcraft.”
She paused for a moment, letting the other woman try to wrap her head around that information. “It can be passed down to generations... or pop in suddenly on a child coming from a normal family. When it happens, the children are usually abandoned, given away, mistreated, and murdered even.” Maven knew she’d gone too far when a sob erupted from the sweet artist, and she tried to give her what she hoped was a reassuring look.
“Don’t fret. These things would happen on old times. Now this knowledge has been practically forgotten. Your Hilda just had the fortune of being born into a family of cruel magicphobes who happened to know of this.”
Another sob came from her. “How can you say she was lucky?! It was awful what happened to her! She could have been hurt!”
“Well, but instead you found her, didn’t you?”
Johanna was silent again, and she stuffed her mouth with a vanilla biscuit. “Yes, I suppose I did.” She answered when she finished chewing.
“But if it’s such an obvious sign, why don’t most people know about this? How come no one suspects?” Johanna gesticulated as she spoke, throwing crumbs around the room with her movements, and Maven scoffed.
“Why, since they created hair dye no one can tell natural from fake hair anymore. Before it existed, witches would usually hide their hair in some way. But nowadays there’s no trouble. Some of us still keep a part of our hair natural to let others know we are of their kind.” The librarian lifted her hands to her scalp, separating the hair strands so that the gaping woman in front of her could see the purple sprouting from the roots.
A few moments of uncomfortable silence went by, and it was only broken when the mother opened her mouth again. “Why did you tell me all that?”
“Because the only way to save my sister is if Hilda helps me” Maven answered after taking a deep breath.
Johanna was silent, but she nodded in a sign for her to continue. “The Marra are a society of kinds. They seek teenagers who want more power, more control, more... freedom. They twist their minds to make them believe that spending the rest of your immortal lives giving people nightmares is the best way to live. And when they convince them of such, the adolescents go through a ritual, in which they gift their soul to the goddess Niorun, acquiring, in exchange, immortality and the ability to enter people’s dreams.”
“Why would that goddess do that?”
“She doesn’t know what they use their abilities for. As the goddess of dreams, Niorun thinks that the Marra’s loyalty to her comes from the desire to give pleasant dreams to others, the way she does, and not nightmares. But the point is, my sister has joined them.”
Johanna lifted her head as if she’d been electrocuted, her jewel bright eyes as wide as the sun. “Beg pardon?” She stuttered with effort.
“You heard this correctly. My sister has joined the Marra. And that was two years ago. I- I believe that she has already performed the ritual” Maven felt the stinging of tears behind her eyes, but she refused to let them drop. “She hadn’t aged a day...” she whispered.
Johanna squares her shoulders confidently. “And what can we do?” She asked in a strong, unwavering voice. “You said you needed Hilda. I’m sure she’d have no trouble in agreeing to help.”
“You don’t understand!” Maven spat. “Not only is the spell we’d need to do dangerous, but the training Hilda would need would unlock her magic forever!”
She hugged her legs and hid her face on her knees. “And I d-don’t want that t-to happen to her...” Maven cried, unable to contain her tears any longer as she realized the depths of the situation her sister had put herself in.
She only heard the gentle padding of Johanna’s feet getting lower and then higher, right before feeling her hand on her shoulder. “Here” Johanna offered a napkin and a smile as the librarian looked up.
At that moment, Maven was painfully aware that she had broken down in front of Johanna. Wonderful, she thought.
“Calm down, and talk to me. Why do you need Hilda for that spell?”
“Because it requires the energy of two witches to work. That’s also what makes the spell so dangerous. There’s no way to get my sister’s soul back,” unless you want to fight a goddess, she added in her mind. “And so the only way to make Myra human again would be by forming a new soul for her.”
“Can... can only witches do that?”
“Yes, I’m afraid so. Witches have more energy, and more control of it. A normal person would probably die with that spell.” Maven sighed, knowing there was no way Johanna was allowing Hilda to help her now.
“And Hilda is the only potential witch in Trollberg?” The question was met with a nod.
“You said she’d require training... can the training make the spell... safer?” Johanna left the bed, now pacing hypnotic circles on the wooden floor.
“Certainly. The better the witch can manipulate the energy and elements, the safer the spell is.”
“Could you train her?” The answer took the librarian by surprise. A small spark of hope ignited in her chest.
“You’d let me?”
Johanna sighed. “Hilda will kill me if I don’t let her try. But if it’s been too long and we still don’t think it’s safe, I’m afraid I’ll have to put my daughter first.”
She barely had any time to process the information before she had an armful of witch. “Thank you. So much.” The librarian whispered in the crook of her neck as she hugged her, before taking a step back and drawing a sharp breath. Bloody hell, what was it with this woman that made her so soft?!
“You’re welcome” Johanna smiled shyly at Maven. At any sign of danger to her family, she would make Hilda back down immediately. But why cut down all the options before even trying?
Why not allow a witch a little happiness?
Hilda closed the door behind her and looked around to find her mother and the librarian sitting at the table, and Twig sniffing Maven’s shoes, to where he ran as soon as the door opened.
“Hey mum.” She said as she approached the women. The walk to her friends’ houses had been a tense affair, the three of them too immersed in their own thoughts to speak. The tension in her house, however, seemed to have dissipated. “Hey Hilda!” Johanna greeted her with a nervous yet happy smile. “Are you up for an adventure?”
