#harvest i said through tears we have gotta get you some mittens

[lunesprite]

I have wanted to make a 'harvest lest' for actual months, and a friend finally pushed me into picking up the new tablet to take it for a spin - and now harv-lest sticker is real.

Harvest Moon belongs to @venomous-qwille !

[im-fairly-whitty]

Taken - A Frozen Oneshot

Thinking about how messed up it is that Kristoff is literally abducted by trolls as a child and we see only a few seconds addressing it and none of the repercussions. Decided to fix that by showing behind the scenes and shoveling on a big dose of real troll child stealing/changeling lore.

  “Henrick, please, Kristoff isn’t old enough to go out with the ice cutters, what if he’s taken by-”

“Ida, so help me you’d better not say trolls.” Henrick said, his voice getting a little gruff and sharp as he yanked on one of his boots.

He didn’t like arguing with his wife, he wasn’t like some men he knew who always tried to cow their spouses into submission, but they’d had this particular conversation so many times.

“He’s only eight, Henrick.” Ida said pleadingly, one hand on Kristoff’s blonde head as the boy held onto her skirts, watching them both with his big brown eyes, “He doesn’t even have a name that could protect him.”

“He has a proper Christian name.” Henrick said, shoving his foot into his other boot, “If you’d had your way he would have been saddled with some superstitious nonsense like “Hiccup.” I swear it’s like you want to curse the boy yourself, keeping him inside all day, never letting him out of your sight. He’s not a little girl, he’s got to get out with the men and learn his trade, I’m not letting you keep him cooped up indoors learning how to cook and knit and wear dresses.”

“I like cooking, I don’t mind!” Kristoff said brightly.

Henrick looked at his wife flatly.

“He’s nearly old enough to be safe,” Ida said, starting to sound desperate as Henrick packed his ice tools into his rucksack, “Just a couple more years and he’ll be too old to take, the trolls won’t want him when he’s twelve and then you can take him on all the trips you want, he’s a fast learner, he’ll catch up quickly.”

“Trolls. Aren’t. Real.” Henrik said, really starting to feel angry now. He stood, coming over by the fireplace, standing over her, “Kristoff is real. Ice trading is real. Our livelihood is real.” He growled, roughly rubbing his face with a sigh, “Look, I promise I won’t let him out of my sight, alright? We’ll be back before dark and I promise he won’t be taken by trolls. You can’t keep him tangled in your apron strings forever. He’s a strong boy, he’ll be fine. I promise .”

Ida folded her arms, biting her trembling lip as she looked up at him. Henrick’s gruffness turned to guilt as he watched her try not to cry.

He shouldn’t have pushed so hard. Kristoff was their only child and the light of her world, he knew she’d been truly terrified ever since Rikke’s boy had gone missing in the middle of the night a few years back. Henrick and the other men knew it had to have been Edde wandering off but the womenfolk had whispered of fae for months after. It was the downside to living in a small village, every shift of a snowdrift was the fault of some troll or ice mage or wandering spirit that had to be appeased. But Ida was still his wife and he needed to be more gentle with her feelings, even if they were wrong.

Henrick pulled Ida into a hug, wrapping his arms around her. “I’m sorry for pushing.” he said gently, “If it really bothers you I can take him out some other time, I just want him to be prepared for his future.”

She buried her face against his shoulder, “I just don’t want to lose either of you.”

“You won’t.” Henrick said, kissing the top of her head, “I promise.”

“Mama, can I go?” They both looked down at Kristoff, who was still holding onto Ida’s skirt with one hand, his set of tiny metal ice tongs he’d gotten for his last birthday in the other. His eyes were bright, even if his voice was hesitant. “I promise I won’t get taken by trolls. Sven and I want to be the best ice merchants ever, and we gotta practice!”

Henrick looked at his wife, waiting for her to decide. She rubbed the side of her face like she always did when she was hesitant.

“Do you really want to go?” she asked.

“Yes!” Kristoff said excitedly, bouncing up and down a little, “Please? I can take my new sled! I’ll work hard, I promise!”

“I won’t let him out of my sight.” Henrick said, putting a comforting arm around her waist, “We shouldn’t be out too late since we’re getting an early start, but the boys are leaving soon.”

“Alright.” Ida said, looking tired and worried, but forcing on a small smile, “Kristoff you have to promise me you’ll stay right by your father and not wander off. Keep all your snow gear on and don’t fall in the water.”

“I will!” Kristoff shouted with glee, really jumping up and down now, “This is going to be the best day ever! I’ll bring you home so much ice Mama, you’ll be able to build a whole other house!”

“I bet you will.” Ida said, bending down and scooping him into a tight hug, kissing his forehead before letting him go, “You’d better go get ready if you’re going to leave in time with Papa.”

“I’ll go tell Sven!” Kristoff said, tearing off the moment she let him go.

“We’ll be back before you know it.” Henrick said, smiling as he hugged her again, “But don’t get your hopes up about a new house.” he teased.

“Well if he grows up to be half as good as you then we’ll be plenty well off in old age.” Sedsel said, her smile was still small, but it felt real again.

 ***

 “You’ve done a fine job there, boy.” Henrick said, grinning down at the little chunk of ice Kristoff had pulled out of the lake, only about the size of a single brick.

“Thanks!” Kristoff said. His cheeks were flushed and he was panting as he tried to latch his tongs onto the block again, dragging the little block backward across the ice, “I’m gonna load it onto my sled so we can sell it!”

It was far later than Henrick had thought they’d be out, the sun having already dropped below the horizon by the time the men were finally loading the last of the harvested ice up onto the sleigh. Everyone was clearing up by the light of their yellow-green lanterns, making sure all the tools had been gathered up.

Ida would probably be frantically pacing by the front window by now, Henrick already having broken half his promise of being home before dark.

“You sure you don’t want me to load it onto the sleigh with the rest of the ice?” Henrick asked his son, balancing his own massive steel ice tongs on his shoulder, “You and Sven can ride up with us, it’s already getting dark, your mother’s going to tan my hide for having you out this late.”

“No,” Kristoff said, concentrating hard as he continued to struggle with his tongs, the points slipping loose over and over across the ice block’s sides. “Sven wants to pull the sled and the ice by himself.”

Kristoff seemed to have lost his hat at some point and had been enthusiastically “helping” harvest ice all day. He was doubtlessly exhausted, not having built up the dexterity and strength that handling tongs required like the other more experienced boys his age had.

Henrick heard a whistle and a shout from the ice sleigh as the others loaded up. It was time to head back. It would be faster to just scoop up Kristoff, reindeer, sled and ice block all in one armful and carry them to the sleigh, but Henrick couldn’t bring himself to stomp on his son’s independent spark. Even if he couldn’t keep up quite yet he could at least help boost the boy’s confidence.

“Alright, but I think you’ll have better luck just pushing it yourself, I’ll carry your tongs.” Henrick said, stooping to take the metal tool and ruffle his son’s hair, “You and Sven can handle your ice yourself but I’ll be watching you from the sleigh, alright? We’ll be moving much slower than we did on the way here, but be sure to keep up. Maybe after supper we can finish that dog wood carving we’ve been working on together.”

“Okay Papa!” Kristoff said, starting to push the ice block with his mittens, already moving much faster than he’d been managing with the tongs.  

Henrick chuckled, patting Sven as he passed him on the way to the sleigh. Not every child in the village could boast owning their own reindeer calf, but being well off meant that Henrick could afford to treat his son to some of the nicer things.

He grunted as he pulled himself up to stand on the side of the sleigh, holding onto the wooden slats as he peered back into the darkness. Kristoff had just managed to get his ice block onto his sled, nearly falling over himself as he did so, but he and Sven got moving right as the sleigh under Henrick did, everyone beginning to move forward across the snow.

Good. They’d all be home safe soon enough, a warm supper and a quiet evening by the fire with Kristoff and Ida sounded like heaven right now.

Henrick looked up at the night sky, gazing up at the northern lights that had begun their silent dance above them, ethereal ribbons of shimmering green twisting across the sky.

 ***

 Being out with Papa all day had made Kristoff tired, but it had been so exciting!

Kristoff rubbed his thick leather mitten against his nose as Sven pulled their sled. He’d lost his hat earlier and the freezing wind was starting to bite his nose and ears, but it was okay, he was basically a grown up now, and grown-ups could ride home all by themselves. He saw Papa up ahead on the big sleigh look back at him, checking on him again before looking ahead. The grown-ups had loaded so much ice on the sleigh that it was super easy for Sven to keep up, Papa didn’t have to keep worrying about him.

Kristoff couldn’t wait to show Mama the block of ice he’d pulled out of the lake all by himself with only a little help from Papa. When she saw how good he’d done maybe she’d let him go out even more so that-

He heard the thundering of horse hooves and turned to see a pair of horses whip past him, carrying their riders through the woods and back into the night.

Kristoff’s eyes got wide, behind one of the horses was a spreading path of ice , a beautiful sparkling trail frosting across the grassy ground.

What kind of horse was that?

Kristoff had to see more.

He quickly unclipped Sven’s harness and jumped on his back, leaving the sled and ice behind and turning them around to follow the ice horse as quickly as they could. The grown-up sleigh was moving so slow that they’d catch up with them again no problem as soon as Kristoff figured out what was going on.  

Papa wouldn’t even notice he was gone.

 ***

 Kristoff was gone.

Henrick had just checked on him, had seen the tiny sled trundling right behind them in the night with its lantern swinging, and now not even ten minutes later he was gone.

Henrick shouted hoarsely for the sleigh to stop, jumping down as quickly as he could. He’d been exhausted from the long day only a minute ago but now he was on fire with panic. He shouted Kristoff’s name as he walked back through the trees, the other men starting to get off the sleigh behind him.

Kristoff must have gotten distracted by something and wandered off for a moment, maybe his sled had gotten caught, or Sven had gotten tired.

As soon as Henrick hiked back around the last bend he’d see Kristoff and he’d have to lecture him about keeping up. The boy had lost his sled privileges was for certain, he’d have to ride on the sleigh from now on.

Which is why the pit of fear in Henrick’s stomach was irrational. Nothing had happened to his son, he’d only lost sight of him for a few minutes. It was just Ida’s old housewife superstitions getting at him was all.

 ***

 Bulda hadn’t expected the human King and Queen to come to the troll glen tonight, she hadn’t expected them to bring the little human princesses to Grand Pabbi for healing and memory rearranging either.

But most of all she hadn’t expected her very own delightful little human boy to wander all the way up to her herself. And with his own little reindeer calf too!

“Well aren’t you just adorable!” Bulda said.

She smiled as she petted the boy’s hair, a beautiful shiny blonde, his outfit was charmingly well made too. Everyone else would be jealous to see what a good looking child she’d found, and she hadn’t even had to break into a human house to get him either.

“Who are you?” the boy asked, looking curiously at her stony hand, “And what was going on with the family? Was the girl sick?”

“Well, I’m a troll silly. You'll have to get used to it now that you're staying here with us.” Bulda chuckled, taking the boy’s hand and turning it over, marveling at the soft smooth skin, “And she’ll be alright, just humans meddling with things they don’t understand. What’s your name?”

“S-stay with you?” the boy said, his eyes getting wide with fear. He tried pulling his hand away and the reindeer calf balked back away from her.

“What kind of a name is that?” Bulda teased, keeping ahold of the boy’s hand. Human children were always jumpy when they were first adopted, but it wasn’t too hard to calm them down as long as she kept him from running off before she could clean up his memories a bit, “Come on, tell us your name.”

“Kristoff,” said Kristoff, his voice squeaking a bit in fear as he kept trying to yank arm away, “Let go please, I want to go back to my Papa, he’ll be worried.”

“Kristoff.” Bulda said with a smile, pulling just a bit at his memories now that she had his name. A good Christian name by the feel of it, “Oh you’ll like it out here, lots of trees and mushrooms and mud for little boys to play with. Come and meet the family, they’ll all be excited to meet you!”

“But...” Kristoff said, his pulling getting weaker as a look of confusion spread over his face, “But Mama...”

“I thought you said you were an orphan?” Bulda asked patiently, “Weren’t you just telling me you don’t have a family?”

“I...yeah. I think so.” Kristoff said slowly, looking around, “Why am I out here?

“Because we’re you’re family!” Bulda smiled, gently pushing him further into the glen as the others started noticing her new human child, pointing excitedly, “Why else would you be out here in the woods all alone? It’s because you belong with us.”

Kristoff smiled hesitantly as he stiffly stepped forward, but quickly loosened up as the others eagerly gathered around him. Changing around human memories was just too easy.

She looked over at the reindeer calf, which still looked nervous and wary, but a gentle pat on the head fixed that, and soon it had happily joined Kristoff.

Bulda wandered off to the side for a moment, cracking her knuckles before picking up a hunk of old wood. Kristoff’s old family would be wondering where he’d gone so she needed to send them something in return to keep them off the trail.

After all, if they’d been careless enough to let a properly named blonde child out of their sight then they probably didn’t really care about their child, now did they?

She concentrated as she carefully poured a strong enchantment onto the wood, it must have been decades since she’d last made a changeling, but she could still manage well enough.

Once she’d finished she shooed it back off into the woods, watching her handiwork shuffle off into the trees. She dusted her stony hands in satisfaction, turning back to the others who were all enthusiastically gathering around her new human.

She smiled and rolled over to join them. Tonight was a night for celebration.

 ***

 “Kristoff!” Henrick shouted, his voice starting to feel hoarse now.

He didn’t know how long he’d been searching now, it might have been an hour, it might have been weeks. Kristoff’s sled was gripped under his arm as he kept swinging the lantern back and forth. He’d found it sitting alone with only the tiny iceblock left on it. No child or reindeer to be seen.

“Henrick,” Orrin said, putting a hand on his shoulder, “we need to get the ice back to the village and packed before it melts, we’ll come back with more men to search.”

“He’s got to be here!” Henrick said, jerking his arm away and crashing through more brush, “I’m not leaving, help me look! Kristoff!”

The pit of fear in his stomach had grown and swallowed him whole, making it feel as if he’d dropped into a nightmare that refused to end.

What if he never found Kristoff? What if he did find Kristoff but something had happened to him? There were wolves in these mountains, there were cliffs and rivers, dozens of places a young child could disappear into in the dead of night and never ever be found again.

And what would Ida say if he really had lost their little boy.

He swung the lantern again, what was left of his heart continuing to drop as he peered uselessly into the all-consuming shadows of the looming trees around them. How had he been so stupid, how had he ever let Kristoff out of his sight long enough to-

He froze as he heard something. Something that sounded like the sniffling of a small child.  

He crashed through another barrier of brush, his lantern light falling on what looked like a little boy wandering by himself through a clearing.

“Kristoff!” Henrick choked, rushing up and falling to his knees, setting the lantern down and scooping his son into a tight hug, “What happened? Where did you go? Are you alright?”

Henrick would have become angry then after having been scared to death, but Kristoff stood stiff in his hug, only continuing to sniffle. Not acting at all like he usually did.

“Son, are you alright?” Henrick asked more gently, taking Kristoff’s face in his hands, “Where’s Sven?”

Kristoff said nothing, only hanging his head miserably as he began to cry.

A heavy chill settled over Henrick that had nothing to do with the dropping temperature. Something was very very wrong.

He stood, scooping up his son as he looked warily at the dark forest around him. They needed to get home. Now.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be back to Mama soon, everything’s okay.” Henrick said, grabbing the lantern and pushing back through the underbrush as quickly as he could.

Something was deeply wrong with these woods and he wanted to get out of them as quickly as possible.

 ***

 “Henrick, that’s not our son.”

“How can you say that?” Henrick whispered back sharply, his arms folded so tightly that it was starting to hurt as they both stood in the doorway of Kristoff’s bedroom, watching him sleep. “He’s just been sick, that’s why he’s been acting like this.”

But he couldn’t pretend anymore that he’d had the same terrifying thought himself.

Over the last few days Kristoff had been acting like a completely different child, always crying without saying why, hardly speaking, usually sitting on his own and sullenly lashing out whenever they tried to coax him out.

Only so much could be attributed to the loss of his reindeer, which is what they’d assumed was wrong at first. But as Kristoff seemed to become more and more ill, despite how much food he kept demanding and voraciously eating, Henrick found himself longing for how his son had been only a week ago.

“What...what if he’s really a-?” Ida started.

“Don’t.” Henrik said, but he pulled her into a tight embrace as they continued watching the child in Kristoff’s bed, a tuft of blonde hair sticking out over the blanket, “Don’t say it.”

“Can we take him to the church tomorrow?” Ida asked, looking up at him, tears in her eyes, “Just, just to have the priest make sure.”

“Alright.” Henrick said, his breath shaking just a bit, “We’ll take him to the church tomorrow.”

“Thank you.” Ida said softly.

“Go to bed, I’ll come in a moment.” Henrick said, letting her go.

She nodded, glancing back at Kristoff before leaving.

Henrick stood in the dark quiet of the night, silently watching the boy sleep as the house creaked in the night wind around them, the dim light of a candle flickering around the small room.

They’d take Kristoff to the church tomorrow and get the priest's blessing, they’d pay the doctor to come around again and get him to give them a straight answer about what was wrong with their boy and how to fix it. Henrick would buy Kristoff a new reindeer, he’d let him stay inside with his mother as much as he wanted, he’d do anything he had to to get his son back to the way things had been.

He felt a chill run down his spine as a sharp draft whipped through the room, snuffing out the candle at the bedside and dropping the room into darkness.

Henrick looked over his shoulder, despite knowing no one was there, unable to shake a sudden creeping feeling that had come over him. Where had a draft that strong come from?

He crossed the room, his eyes slowly adjusting in the darkness as he pulled a match from his pocket, striking it and relighting the bedside candle. He picked up the empty ceramic water pitcher as he turned to leave the room for the night, unable to keep from glancing one more time at Kristoff’s bed.

For years afterward the neighbors would tell in hushed whispers about being woken by Henrick and Ida’s screams in the middle of the night, of rushing to their aid with crossbows and axes, expecting to find that a wolf or a bear had broken into their son’s bedroom.

But instead finding them both standing amid the shards of a smashed water pitcher, the wife having fainted dead away at the sight of an old crumbling log rotting in their son’s bed.