#Hooray Meiri is actually in this one!

[the-hilda-librarians-wife]

Fireflies Over The Wall - Chapter 2

Relationship: The Bell Keeper & Meiri (Original character)

Summary: "The troll brought with herself, every night without a fault, a baby.

Every night, she placed it upon the grass, and pointed upwards, showing her baby the stars and constellations. Showing her baby the fireflies.

Holding it tight. Cuddling with it. Making sure it saw the beauty the world had to offer. He had never considered himself a sentimental man. Yet this image, for some reason, never failed to make him return home feeling something gaping and void inside of himself.

Every one of his former coworkers must have returned to their families.

Who would Edmund return to when he could work no more?

What would give him a reason to get out of bed when the fireflies were no longer enough?"

An OC's origin story as well as a Bell Keeper character study, because this character is much more fascinating than I'd been giving him credit for.

Notes: Title from ‘Enchanted’, by Taylor Swift

Chapter title: Walls of insincerity

Read it on ao3

Technically, if you were to follow all the rules, bell keepers were supposed to work their shifts without pause and then get longer periods of rest. But with the massive dismissal of keepers that had been happening, there were no longer enough of them to keep rotating their posts like they were supposed to, making it necessary for them to work two or even three shifts in sequence. The only saving grace in that situation was that, considering there wasn’t enough monitoring to keep them from having to work until they no longer felt like human beings, there was also not enough to stop them from taking breaks whenever they’d like.

What was the worst that was going to happen? A troll attack?

He had been on the job for over a decade, and he had never witnessed a single one. He couldn’t be blamed for his scepticism.

It was about eight in the evening, two hours after his shift had ended and the task had been passed over to, you guessed it, himself. But Edmund was getting hungry, so even though it was still early enough that a superior could very well pop up to check on his job, he couldn’t be arsed to care. So he climbed down from his post on one of the many ancient staircases that were hidden throughout the wall, walking towards his cabin while wondering what he could possibly get to eat. He’d been working since the early morning, so it wasn’t like he’d had time to cook for himself, and despite his lack of interest, he wasn’t incompetent; it wouldn’t be safe to leave his post for so long, even if only considering his own financial stability. 

He could make a sandwich, as always. But was there even stuff to make a sandwich with at his house? He’d have to check that out. Even worse, he’d probably have to bring himself to go to the market come morning.

Not that he had any great plans for anything else to do with his free time. 

The night was quiet; it usually was, around those parts. Kids showed up during the day to play, sometimes. The local scouts went near the wall for certain activities. Couples came for romantic picnics somewhere secluded. But when the sun left, so did the noise. It was just the wind on the trees, the cicadas, and his old reliable boots on the grass. No one wanted to be near their one line of defence when it was most likely to be attacked, which served him just well. He didn’t feel like being around most people either.

The air was cool and crisp in his lungs. There had been a bit of rain earlier, so the scent of wet soil still lingered pleasantly. Few lamps were installed along the wall, just enough so that he could see the outline of his cabin and the trees.

And the silhouette of something small scaling the wall.

As soon as he noticed it, his hand went inside his coat to grab the flashlight he kept with himself at all times. He didn’t instantly flash it; if it were an animal, or a magical creature, he could frighten it into attacking him. Instead, he first asked, loud enough that he could be sure he would be heard.

“Who’s there?”

Whatever it was, it didn’t answer, only stilled its movements. He then turned on his light but kept it pointing towards the ground, and began his approach in as calmly of a manner he could.

The figure was humanoid, but far too small. He wondered if it could be a nisse. He sure had never heard of elves being that big, and hadn’t gotten his hands on the proper paperwork yet, anyway. Maybe it was some sort of magic construct, one of those creatures Kaisa would tell him about and he’d pretend not to believe in so he could sleep peacefully.

Slowly, he dragged his beam of light all the way from the floor to the creature. Its gaze had been directed straight at him, so he could immediately see its face when he got there.

Ugh, even worse.

It was a child.

“Hey!” Came the impressively offended interjection, as if she wasn’t the one practically invading Trolberg City property. “Put that down, that’s not nice!”

He did as he was told, because yeah, that was fair. Nobody wanted light straight at their face. But he was also amused because her voice sounded like if she knew how to swear, he’d be hearing some very nasty words leave her mouth. He could respect that. But he didn’t budge an inch and kept lighting the lower side of the girl’s body.

Her little body was hanging on to the vines that grew over the door to his belltower, a surprising show of strength for someone who looked so young, especially since she was holding on with only one hand. He could see the other one reaching up above her head. What for, he hadn’t the slightest idea. 

“What are you doing?” She didn’t answer for a good couple of seconds, but apparently decided it was something she had to do upon seeing his Patrol badge, not completely hidden by his garment. 

“I’m just trying to get a sprout of Simulium philia.”

He blinked, frowned, and debated whether he was being played a prank on. 

“Pardon?”

“Simulium philia. It attracts an insect, and there’s a sprout right over there.” She pointed to a spot above her head she couldn’t quite reach yet. “It’s not wrong to pick plants.”

It’s not wrong to pick plants. Not followed by an ‘is it, officer?’ or by a ‘right?’. Just stating her gods given right to scale the wall and grab a plant if she saw fit. It wasn’t like she was exactly wrong (he didn’t think so, at least. He may be from the Patrol but he only really learned the laws regarding his job), but it was still probably not what she should be doing at that moment.

He sighed, unwilling to deal with that situation. “Where are you parents, kid?”

“I’m an orphan.” She said with the bluntness and nonchalance of someone commenting on the weather.

“Well, then where is whoever is responsible for you?”

Poor person, he thought to himself in the moments of silence that followed his question. Except the moments began to stretch and stretch, and with his eyes now better adjusted he noticed that she was still looking at him, not like a deer in headlights, not like a child caught stealing cookies, but rather the way you look at an annoying coworker who just won’t stop talking and leave you alone. Clearly waiting for him to get tired and go away to leave her to her previous plans, without the slightest intention of answering that question.

Edmund let his head fall back and groaned as he squeezed his eyes shut. He was tired and hungry and he hadn’t a drop of patience to deal with that right now. Had he been slightly less conscious, he would have just pretended he hadn’t seen the little wannabe monkey and kept on with his appealing evening of putting together something that could barely be called a sandwich and go back to his post. But, annoying or not, this was a child, alone in the middle of the night. He couldn’t in good conscience just leave her alone. And he apparently couldn’t make her cooperate either. 

His decision made, he walked closer to the girl (who seemed to have gotten back to her endeavour, hoping that ignoring him would make him go away) and stood on his tiptoes in order to grab the exact sprout she’d been on the verge of reaching.

“Hey!” She sounded less distressed this time, but no less murderous. “That’s mine!”

“Nope, it’s mine now. I caught it fair and square.”

As he kept on walking towards his cabin pretending to not pay a mind to her, he heard a solid thump as she let go of the vines and landed on her feet without a single huff or squeal to indicate any struggle with the jump. 

Creepy kid.

Then, just as expected, came the pitter patter of her feet behind him, having to take many more steps than he had for obvious reasons. He only stopped and looked back when he was already at his cabins’ steps and had opened his front door.

“I’m gonna get something to eat. Do you drink tea?”

She was standing much closer to him than he had calculated she would, but he kept his startlement internal. Her hands were inside the pocket of the dark green hoodie she wore, and she was glaring at him like he was one big inconvenience she did not want to deal with.

Luckily, the feeling was mutual.

“Not black.” Was all she said, through gritted teeth.

“Me neither.” What did she take him for? If he wanted something bitter and caffeinated he’d just drink coffee. “Come on.”

Although the fact that she reluctantly followed him into the cabin meant his plan had worked, it didn’t put him at ease at all; in fact, it may just make things worse. Certainly the girl had someone to teach her she should not, under any circumstances, accept to be taken by strange people into their homes?

“You can sit down if you feel like it.” He said, even though he didn’t pay enough attention to her to see if she’d done so or not. He went straight to his teapot and put it over the fire, walking then to his fridge to see what he had. 

Ham and watercress and three slices of bread - what were those doing in the fridge? - and not a thing more. It would have to do.

“You want some toast, kid?” He asked because really what use would he have for exactly one slice of bread, and because he wasn’t a troglodyte. If someone is in your house, you offer them food. That’s how it goes. 

He heard her scoff from behind him. “I’m not eating something you give me. I don’t know you.”

“That’s a great point you’re making right there.” He plugged his toaster on the outlet and put two slices in there. “Which brings me to the question of do you usually enter the houses of people you don’t know? You could get into big trouble, you know.”

“Obviously.” She did not seem to understand she’d been scolded. “But I want my plant. Just give it to me and I’ll go!”

Edmund turned to face her, crossing his arms and leaning against his cooking counter. 

“Listen, kid- what’s yer name, actually?”

She lifted an eyebrow at him. Turns out she was still standing up; he could see her better now, in the lighting of his living room. Her skin was olive-toned, a shade darker than he’d previously thought; she had a hooked nose and very dark eyes and bags under them that looked genetic rather than a consequence of poor sleep. Her hair was just as dark and wild, although very short. He couldn’t tell if it was a result of the wind ruffling it up as she climbed or if it was just like that. 

“You were just complaining about me following you here. Why should I tell you my name if I don’t know you?”

“Fair enough.” He heard his toaster go off and turned around to spread butter on the bread. “Well, how old are you?”

“Can’t you tell?”

No, he couldn’t and he rationally couldn’t see a reason why he should be able to. He hadn’t interacted with a child in more years than he could count, instances when he had to make one or another stop damaging the wall with silly games and slash or bets notwithstanding, so his knowledge of developmental milestones was admittedly lacking. Her question sounded so judgemental that he felt like he was missing important information, though. From what he had seen, she had a full set of teeth and enough anger inside of herself to make her sound like a bitter retired elderly person, so… probably older than three?

“No.” Was what he said instead shooting his shot and failing miserably.

Being in the middle of his sandwich making process, he couldn’t see her shrug.

“Then it can’t be that important.” She answered, and that told him absolutely nothing other than she was still in that fantastic age where kids remained under the impression that adults knew everything. He was far too tired for this.

The kettle rang, and he placed satchets of herbal tea inside of two mugs - the only two mugs he had, in fact - and placed them on his wooden table. Sandwich already in hand, he sat down and pretended to not be watching whether or not she’d take a seat. Feigning nonchalance was what had gotten her to follow him to begin with. And also what had made Kaisa begin talking to him all those years ago, come to think of it. Maybe it had a similar effect on grumpy girls as pstpstpsting had on cats.

His meal tasted… well, he had food, he supposed he shouldn’t be complaining. It was a wonder, with how little housekeeping he did. It wasn’t that he didn’t like to cook, or to keep things in order. It was just that doing those things only to himself felt pointless. He could live very well just keeping things clean, who was he trying to impress? There was no point in dirtying his pots and pans and having to spend hours in the kitchen just so he could have an actual dish every day. He was fine with his sandwiches and deconstructed meals.

He was still thinking about this when he heard the chair directly in front of him scratch the floor and the girl sat down. The chair being too short for her, only up until her chin was visible from over the table. Continuing to apply that same tactic, Edmund didn’t look at her as the girl picked up her mug and took a sip.

“Lemongrass?” She asked and he hummed in assent, still chewing. 

“Sure you don’t want that toast?” He broke the silence they had fallen into to ask, when he was about halfway through the sandwich and she was still waiting for her tea to cool down enough to drink it properly. “See, I’m eating that same bread. It’s not poisoned.”

She was gazing around at his cabin when she answered.

“No, thank you. I already ate.”

Huh, look at that. She knew how to be polite. 

Maybe it happened when she was distracted enough. 

He kept eating and wondering what the hell he was supposed to do. He had to go back to work (well, truly it wasn’t like he <em>had</em> to do it, the likelihood of something happening was very small, but he still wanted to keep this job) but he couldn’t just leave this random child inside his house. Which, considering she wouldn’t tell him where she came from, was looking like his only option. 

“What do you do?” She asked once he was done eating and they were now both nursing their mugs, showing the first bit of interest in him since they’d met. Though it was probably just to cut through the awkward silence.

“I am a bell keeper. I stand watch on a section of the wall and I ring the bell if anything is off.”

“And have you ever had to ring it?”

“Not really.”

She grimaced mockingly. “Sounds useless.”

And, sure, that was true, but why was everyone and their mother rubbing it in his face lately?

“Well, what do you do when you’re not stealing plants, young miss?”

“I go to school.” She didn’t miss a beat. “So I don’t have to become a cop when I grow up.”

Caught unarmed, he scrambled for something to say that wasn’t an utter lie or worse, a defence of the Patrol. Even in his most desperate hour he couldn’t resort to that.

“I’m very low ranking, as far as the Patrol’s hierarchy goes. I just pay attention to what’s going on and discourage anyone who wants to go outside the wall after hours.”

She gave him a look that was all raised eyebrows and tired smugness.

“Cop.”

He rolled his eyes and sat back, defeated. “Yeah, you know what, just keep on studying, kid.”

“So I don’t end up controlling people for a job?”

“I don’t control anyone!”

“Really?” She crossed her arms to mirror his stance. “Then why are you keeping me here?”

Oh. He’d walked right into that one.

“Because I can’t let a child go walking alone at night by herself!” 

“And instead I’m alone at night with a stranger. Great job!”

Letting his body slide down his chair a few inches, he groaned. Never had he wanted to go to work this badly. 

“Listen, kid. I’ll give you your plant. I just need you to give me the number of whoever you live with so I can call them to come pick you up. Or if you don’t trust whoever you live with or can’t call them for whatever reason, the number of an adult you do trust. It’s a win-win situation.”

By that time, the girl was already done with her lemongrass tea. She got up from her chair and, taking him by surprise, attempted to wash it.

“Leave it be.” He told her, essentially unnecessarily since she couldn’t reach the kitchenette’s sink, anyway. “I’ll wash them both later.”

“I don’t know their numbers.” She admitted, not sounding at all regretful of the fact. Her little hands now shoved back inside the hoodie’s pocket, she began wandering around his small living room, instantly attracted by the book shelves near his front door. He couldn’t imagine a single thing there that would appeal to a child, but she seemed to read their spines with care nonetheless. Anything was possible, though. After he’d heard her in all seriousness throw a scientific name into the conversation two seconds after having met her, Ed wouldn’t be willing to bet against her or her intelligence anytime soon.

“Well, listen, I need something. I can’t leave my post for long enough to drop you off at home, and you can’t stay here until morning.”

The girl didn’t even stop looking through his collection. “You can just give me my S. philia and let me go. I know the way.”

“You could get hurt.” 

“That’s not your problem.”

She didn’t sound accusing, or angry, or anything of the sort. Just slightly tired of that conversation and distracted by a book she was currently flipping through. He saw that it was his tree identification manual.

Edmund began rubbing his eyes with so much pressure that he could see purple and blue blotches behind his eyelids, in that characteristic manner we all know we’re not supposed to but still do when we’re too tired. His tea had grown cold. The girl apparently decided to sit down on his sofa and read his book. She had a point, mind you. It wasn’t his problem, and whoever was in charge of her should have either established clear rules or made sure they were implemented. Because for all that he had no clue what at what age children did what, he was certain someone as young as the child in front of him should not be going out by themselves this late.

He was beginning to seriously consider taking a sleeping mat back to his post so she could sleep while he was at work to be delivered at the end of his shift. That’s the level of clueless he was. But then something extremely rare happened.

His doorbell rang.

Edmund’s stomach dropped, his first thought being that out of all days the Patrol had chosen this one to guarantee that the keepers were all doing their jobs accordingly. The best case scenario would be a coworker having somehow noticed he wasn’t at his post and coming to ask him about it, in which case he could probably either bribe or blackmail them into not snitching on him. But then he’d still have to explain the child to them.

The reality, it turned out, was all the opposite of that.

“Good evening, sir.” Said a lithe blond man as soon as the door was opened, in what looked to Edmund like office clothing, though neither it nor the person himself were very well put together. He looked worried and out of sorts, and had the laboured breathing of someone who had been running. “Sorry for the disturbance, but would you happen to have seen a child around these parts?”

It just so happened that the spot the girl was in wasn’t one the man would be able to see from where he was standing. Intrigued,  Edmund crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe, further obscuring the view of the side of the house she was in.

“A child?”

“Yes, sir.” Edmund had thought he was tired. This guy, though, he looked like he was having an even worse evening. “I work at Saint Anne’s orphanage. One of our little girls escaped again today. She’s six, short black hair, was wearing her green hoodie and black leggings when she was last seen. Does that ring a bell?”

“Hold on.” He couldn’t see or hear her, but something told him she was greatly amused by the situation. At least he had gotten answers for two of his questions already. “Again? The hell do you mean ‘again’? How hard can it be to keep a kid that young from escaping?”

It was as if he had triggered war flashbacks on the younger man. 

“Very.” He answered, and with the amount of feeling behind that one word, Edmund was even moved to believe him. “Meiri is a good girl, but she gets terribly bored inside the orphanage after school. So she learned how to sneak out and nothing we do seemed to stop her. In the end we stopped fighting it and just gave her instructions on how to keep safe. But she always comes back by sunset, so when we realised she was still out we began searching for her. No luck since.”

Edmund hummed, taking in that information. He then asked, without sounding like he was actually waiting for permission. 

“Would you give me a minute to grab my coat? I’ll help you go looking for her.”

And then he closed the door before he could hear any arguments, which the man looked like he wanted to make.

He turned back to the girl, who was watching him, looking disinterested. He wondered if she was using his own tactic of faking it.

“Six, huh?”

“Oh, shut up.”

She let some surprise show through her face when he approached her and crouched down, so that he’d be nearer to her level, sitting on his sofa as she currently was.

“Can you go with him? Is he good to you?”

The girl seemed surprised at the question, even more surprised that he’d even ask.

“Terry? Yeah, he’s okay. He’s one of our caretakers.”

Edmund nodded and got up, taking one last look at her to guarantee that she looked like she was being sincere before turning around and going back to the counter that served as his kitchen.

“Then please go put him out of his misery. I’ll get your plant ready to go, you open the door for him.”

For a couple of seconds, the girl remained still, looking between the book, Edmund and the door repeatedly. Eventually, whatever she’d been thinking about faded away and she sighed, getting up to get the door. As soon as she’d opened it, the man let out a gasp that sounded more terrified than relieved.

“Meiri!” He tried to pick her up, but she took a step back to move away. The message was clear enough and he didn’t make another attempt. “Where have you been? We were looking for you everywhere!”

Before the girl could open her mouth, Edmund chimed in.

“My fault, pal. Saw her around on her own at night and thought there must be something off for a kid so young to be all alone after hours, so I made her come here. We were figuring out how to make contact with you people when you knocked.”

Though he didn’t see it, being too busy thoroughly washing a former pickle jar he’d emptied this morning, Meiri’s gaze locked on his back with a frown. Wondering why he’d downplay her lack of collaboration when he’d get nothing for it.

“Oh! I understand. Thank you.”  

The Terry person didn’t sound too thankful, understandably so since he’d probably cost them extra time of worry and searching, but just enough that Edmund knew all was well. He then began trying to get the girl to thank him as well, which amused the bell keeper to no end, since he’d been around her for less than an entire hour and already considered it a futile endeavour. True to that impression, she’d only said ‘I won’t’ the first time she was asked to express her gratitude and remained silent as a tomb when he continued insisting.

“It’s okay, mate. She didn’t wanna come anyway.”

Edmund walked towards them with the now completely clean jar and the sprout, which he’d kept in his most spacious pocket, now inside it.

“There ya go.” He leaned down to hand it to her. “Simulation philosophy. Was it worth it?”

Just as he had expected, she glared at him something violent. But funnily enough, her eyes didn’t quite have the fire that they had before. 

“Simulium philia. It was.”

“Good. Now if you excuse me, I have to go back to my post.”

He paid the caretaker no mind as the man attempted to bid a polite goodbye, instead going around the house to turn off all the lights. The man gave up when Edmund only answered with ‘yeah, sure’s, and began heading back the way he came with the little girl in tow. 

After having put his house moderately to sorts and closed his front door, Edmund drew his coat’s hood over his head, ready to climb back up to his favourite spot on the wall and forget about the weird approximate half an hour he’d had. When he was about to do so, though, his feet on the front steps of his house, he saw that the two of them were still within eyesight as they walked away in the direction of the city centre. And that the girl, who immediately avoided his gaze and went back to facing forwards upon being caught, had been looking directly back at him.

He chuckled, putting his hands inside his coat’s pockets, and went back to work.