Cross-posted from the 12 days of Ficmas & Madrona Project
Title: Beware the Grilka
Author: kira
World: The Isle of Ice
Characters: Njord Hansen, his wife Freyja, and their boys Erik and Leif
Borrow: Yes
Word count: 1201
Rating: PG
Summary: Erik and Leif are worried about the Grilka…
Author’s note: This is unbetaed, so any mistakes therein are my own.
Author’s note 2: The Grilka is based on the Old Icelandic Christmas monster called “Grýla,” who is an old ogress/witch that eats children, who don’t obey their parents. The Trolls are based on the Yule Lads.
Author's note 3: The Hansen's live in a small fishing unnamed, at the time of writing this, in what was once known as Iceland.
Author's note 4: This was written for the 12 days of Ficmas & Madrona Project's Christmas Monster Challenge.
Erik and Leif Hansen looked anxiously at one another. There was a soft scratching at the window and the boys were worried the Grilka was there to snatch them both away. The boys had been a bit naughty in the days leading up to Sinterklaas and thoughts of the old witch weighed heavily upon their minds. And no wonder, as they had been warned repeatedly by their parents to behave.
The scratching at the window intensified as the wind picked up and it was soon joined by ice pellets that tinkled as they hit the glass. The boys nervously peeked out the window, but saw nothing, except the afternoon darkness. Later that night, the boys would set out milk and sausages for Trolls of Jol and the Sinter Child. If they were lucky, they would leave them some gifts.
“Come away from the window, boys,” their mother Freyja said from her seat by the fire. “Your father will be home soon.”
“W-what if th-the Grilka a-ate him?” Leif wailed.
“Oh, Honey,” Freyja said as she got up and came over to him. She scooped her youngest up in her arms and carried him over to her seat by the fire. She sat down and cuddled her child. “The Grilka only eats naughty children.” She kissed his cheek. “And my boys are good.”
“That’s what I told him,” Erik said with false bravado, as he was just afraid of the old witch as his younger brother. While he may not have voiced his concerns out loud, he was just as worried about his father as Leif was.
“Come,” their mother said as she put her knitting aside and made room for him on the bench.
“Maybe her cat ate him,” Leif choked out as he tried his best to stifle a sob.
“There are no cats here. The Trolls drove them out so that our people could live here. They left only the sheep, and birds, and rabbits, and seals, and foxes.”
“What about the summer buzzers?” Erik asked.
“They left them so the smaller birds would have something to eat.”
“I like the puffies!” Leif said, worry about his father and the Grilka vanishing like the last of the snow on a warm spring day.
“And the gulls! I like when father brings home some eggs!” Erik added.
Their mother laughed.
“Mama? Do the Trolls have a dog like Hundur?” Leif wiggled out his mother’s arms and onto the floor. He scooted over to their dog. Hundur wagged her tail and licked his face when he leaned closer. Leif laughed.
“Mama?” Erik said. “Are the Trolls as old as the Ancients?”
“They’re older, Erik. They have watched over us forever.”
“And they’ll watch over Papa?” Leif said.
Freyja nodded. “Papa, you boys, me, your grandparents, the neighbors, the men who sail the sea with your father, everyone who lives here,” his mother replied.
“Even the Grilka?”
Freyja thought it over. “I suppose they even watch over her as that is what the Sinter Child says; you should love your neighbor and help them when you can.”
“So the Sinter Child helps the trolls?” Erik said.
His mother nodded. She picked up her knitting and started working on the sweater she was making for her husband. The soft clacking of the needles startled Leif as he was sure it was the Grilka trying to claw her way inside. He only relaxed when he saw his mother and brother were untroubled by it. Curling up next to Hundur, he soon drifted off to sleep.
While his little brother slept, Erik read one of his books. It was a simple story about a kindly old woman who knitted a sweater for the Sinter Child and shawl for the Great Mother. She traveled across the world on a flying sled given to her by the Trolls. Erik’s favorite part of the story was when she met an old reindeer herder and became his wife. They reminded him of his grandparents. He also liked the ending when they met the Great Mother and the Sinter Child.
Also feeling sleepy, he shut the book and lay down on the rug by his brother. He mumbled a soft thanks to his mother when she covered them with a blanket. Erik lay there, dreaming of the old woman and Trolls and the Grilka. Instead of a nightmare, it was a pleasant dream, his fears about the old witch allayed by his mother’s love.
Freyja got up, while her boys slept, and looked out the window. She hoped her husband Njord would get home soon. She hated whenever he went out fishing with the other men of their village. It was dark and the waters were especially cold in winter, the stars and Northern Lights barely lighting the way. As she watched a single glowing light appeared out of the shadows. Had there been more than one, it would have meant her husband was lost at sea, the multiple lights being the other fisherman coming to break the news. Freyja breathed a sigh of relief, despite his numerous tales of how he sailed across the sea from his home in Norseland to the Isle of Ice and into her heart, she still worried about him.
When he got close enough, she opened the door and let him. He smelt of sweat and the sea and the cold of winter, and his beard tickled her cheek where he kissed her, not that she minded. He was home and that’s all that counted.
“You know, you don’t have to worry about me, my Love.” Njord took off his coat, hung it up by the door, and held her close.
“I know, but I can’t help it. I guess the boys’ worries about the Grilka sort of became my own.” Freyja smiled sheepishly up at him.
“I told you, my Love, that I come from old Viker stock and we were born to roam the seas,” Njord said with a smile.
She giggled. “Why don’t you get out of those wet things,” he grinned at her and she shook her head,” and come sit by the fire with me? The boys will be happy to see you when they wake up.”
Njord nodded and went to do as he was bidden, while his wife went to make him a cup of tea. The two of them met up by the fire, where they waited for their children to wake up from their naps.
“Papa!” Leif and Erik cried.
“Come’re, boys!” Njord held his arms out as his kids rushed over to him.
“I thought the Grilka ate you…” Leif said softly.
Njord laughed. “The Grilka no match for me!” He let go of his children.
“I told you Papa was tough!” Erik said to his little brother.
“You think maybe Papa’s a Troll?”
Erik thought it over, stealing the occasional glance at his father. “Maybe…”
Leif grinned. “I knew it! Let’s go play, Erik!”
“Okay!”
Njord gave his wife’s knee a gentle squeeze as she looked over at him. “They’re good boys.”
Freyja nodded. “The best.” She smiled. “Lucky for us too, as now the Grilka’ll have to elsewhere for a meal.”
“Yup!”
Author: kira
World: The Isle of Ice
Characters: Njord Hansen, his wife Freyja, and their boys Erik and Leif
Borrow: Yes
Word count: 1201
Rating: PG
Summary: Erik and Leif are worried about the Grilka…
Author’s note: This is unbetaed, so any mistakes therein are my own.
Author’s note 2: The Grilka is based on the Old Icelandic Christmas monster called “Grýla,” who is an old ogress/witch that eats children, who don’t obey their parents. The Trolls are based on the Yule Lads.
Author's note 3: The Hansen's live in a small fishing unnamed, at the time of writing this, in what was once known as Iceland.
Author's note 4: This was written for the 12 days of Ficmas & Madrona Project's Christmas Monster Challenge.
Erik and Leif Hansen looked anxiously at one another. There was a soft scratching at the window and the boys were worried the Grilka was there to snatch them both away. The boys had been a bit naughty in the days leading up to Sinterklaas and thoughts of the old witch weighed heavily upon their minds. And no wonder, as they had been warned repeatedly by their parents to behave.
The scratching at the window intensified as the wind picked up and it was soon joined by ice pellets that tinkled as they hit the glass. The boys nervously peeked out the window, but saw nothing, except the afternoon darkness. Later that night, the boys would set out milk and sausages for Trolls of Jol and the Sinter Child. If they were lucky, they would leave them some gifts.
“Come away from the window, boys,” their mother Freyja said from her seat by the fire. “Your father will be home soon.”
“W-what if th-the Grilka a-ate him?” Leif wailed.
“Oh, Honey,” Freyja said as she got up and came over to him. She scooped her youngest up in her arms and carried him over to her seat by the fire. She sat down and cuddled her child. “The Grilka only eats naughty children.” She kissed his cheek. “And my boys are good.”
“That’s what I told him,” Erik said with false bravado, as he was just afraid of the old witch as his younger brother. While he may not have voiced his concerns out loud, he was just as worried about his father as Leif was.
“Come,” their mother said as she put her knitting aside and made room for him on the bench.
“Maybe her cat ate him,” Leif choked out as he tried his best to stifle a sob.
“There are no cats here. The Trolls drove them out so that our people could live here. They left only the sheep, and birds, and rabbits, and seals, and foxes.”
“What about the summer buzzers?” Erik asked.
“They left them so the smaller birds would have something to eat.”
“I like the puffies!” Leif said, worry about his father and the Grilka vanishing like the last of the snow on a warm spring day.
“And the gulls! I like when father brings home some eggs!” Erik added.
Their mother laughed.
“Mama? Do the Trolls have a dog like Hundur?” Leif wiggled out his mother’s arms and onto the floor. He scooted over to their dog. Hundur wagged her tail and licked his face when he leaned closer. Leif laughed.
“Mama?” Erik said. “Are the Trolls as old as the Ancients?”
“They’re older, Erik. They have watched over us forever.”
“And they’ll watch over Papa?” Leif said.
Freyja nodded. “Papa, you boys, me, your grandparents, the neighbors, the men who sail the sea with your father, everyone who lives here,” his mother replied.
“Even the Grilka?”
Freyja thought it over. “I suppose they even watch over her as that is what the Sinter Child says; you should love your neighbor and help them when you can.”
“So the Sinter Child helps the trolls?” Erik said.
His mother nodded. She picked up her knitting and started working on the sweater she was making for her husband. The soft clacking of the needles startled Leif as he was sure it was the Grilka trying to claw her way inside. He only relaxed when he saw his mother and brother were untroubled by it. Curling up next to Hundur, he soon drifted off to sleep.
While his little brother slept, Erik read one of his books. It was a simple story about a kindly old woman who knitted a sweater for the Sinter Child and shawl for the Great Mother. She traveled across the world on a flying sled given to her by the Trolls. Erik’s favorite part of the story was when she met an old reindeer herder and became his wife. They reminded him of his grandparents. He also liked the ending when they met the Great Mother and the Sinter Child.
Also feeling sleepy, he shut the book and lay down on the rug by his brother. He mumbled a soft thanks to his mother when she covered them with a blanket. Erik lay there, dreaming of the old woman and Trolls and the Grilka. Instead of a nightmare, it was a pleasant dream, his fears about the old witch allayed by his mother’s love.
Freyja got up, while her boys slept, and looked out the window. She hoped her husband Njord would get home soon. She hated whenever he went out fishing with the other men of their village. It was dark and the waters were especially cold in winter, the stars and Northern Lights barely lighting the way. As she watched a single glowing light appeared out of the shadows. Had there been more than one, it would have meant her husband was lost at sea, the multiple lights being the other fisherman coming to break the news. Freyja breathed a sigh of relief, despite his numerous tales of how he sailed across the sea from his home in Norseland to the Isle of Ice and into her heart, she still worried about him.
When he got close enough, she opened the door and let him. He smelt of sweat and the sea and the cold of winter, and his beard tickled her cheek where he kissed her, not that she minded. He was home and that’s all that counted.
“You know, you don’t have to worry about me, my Love.” Njord took off his coat, hung it up by the door, and held her close.
“I know, but I can’t help it. I guess the boys’ worries about the Grilka sort of became my own.” Freyja smiled sheepishly up at him.
“I told you, my Love, that I come from old Viker stock and we were born to roam the seas,” Njord said with a smile.
She giggled. “Why don’t you get out of those wet things,” he grinned at her and she shook her head,” and come sit by the fire with me? The boys will be happy to see you when they wake up.”
Njord nodded and went to do as he was bidden, while his wife went to make him a cup of tea. The two of them met up by the fire, where they waited for their children to wake up from their naps.
“Papa!” Leif and Erik cried.
“Come’re, boys!” Njord held his arms out as his kids rushed over to him.
“I thought the Grilka ate you…” Leif said softly.
Njord laughed. “The Grilka no match for me!” He let go of his children.
“I told you Papa was tough!” Erik said to his little brother.
“You think maybe Papa’s a Troll?”
Erik thought it over, stealing the occasional glance at his father. “Maybe…”
Leif grinned. “I knew it! Let’s go play, Erik!”
“Okay!”
Njord gave his wife’s knee a gentle squeeze as she looked over at him. “They’re good boys.”
Freyja nodded. “The best.” She smiled. “Lucky for us too, as now the Grilka’ll have to elsewhere for a meal.”
“Yup!”