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AShellfishLover t1_j6c9mda wrote

Reply to comment by AShellfishLover in [WP] The person you're dating comes to dinner to meet your family. But the instant you step in the door, your grandmother goes deathly pale, and shouts the name of a creature from her country's folklore. by Affectionate_Bit_722

"It will be alright. I have met a few mothers before, dear."

Damn, my fiddler looked good. A natty suit and new white shirt had turned a ruggedly handsome hipster boy into a sharply angled man before my eyes in a wonderful whirlwind of dress up in my small flat. If we wouldn't have been late... but Wilma Eklund-Sanford didn't believe in tardiness.

I worried because of how easily my mother read me, and knew that I had a new man. Not much slipped by Wilma, a skill that paid off in her role as a contract lawyer. The house we stood in front of after a short walk from the El was beautiful, and paid for by the patronage of dozens of major clients who saw me grow up in a little office in Oldtown.

She had caught me humming while rolling Drömmar for Christmas dinner. A few pointed questions, a peck on the cheek, and five minutes later I was out the door and the invitation that wasn't negotiable had been set.

"I know, but this is my first time." I felt ready to run then, right until Anders grasped my freezing hands in his even colder ones.

"Do not worry. I will be gentle."

The words were warm honey, sweetening my path up the steps to the big wood and wrought iron door of the house. I opened the door and let Anders slink by me into the foyer, never touching the frame.

I had been that girl and asked him to bring her with him. Even then, we had been almost a throuple, me and my man and his fiddle. I loved listening to him play, even when he humored me by practicing on Sunday mornings. He didn't need to practice; Anders may have had some strange habits, but with his fiddle he was meticulous, never missing a note on even the hardest songs he played. Those fingers, long and thin and delicate, would press and pluck and draw on her, and he would get lost in his practice in a way he never was on the street.

The songs he played the were art, beauty in a way that was almost indescribable. Dirgelike sadness effortlessly blending to pastoral softness, then into driving thunder to patter out into smooth sensual peaks and valleys. I would find myself humming and dancing in my flat, and see that slow knowing smile and finally make him quit practicing... ahh, there is something to dating a musician.

We were met by the sounds of chatting in the living room, the voices of my aunts and grandmother. The men had been sent off, which was not a good sign. I felt like a doe that had been led into a trap, though my buck just smiled and slipped off his shoes at the door, taking off his jacket and hanging it on a peg then setting her down and stretching a bit.

"It will be a long night, but we will have fun, yes?" He squeezed my hand, and I knew everything was going to be alright. He handed me a small flask kept in his hip pocket and I took a shot of whiskey, the burn helping me to settle my nerves and brace myself for the coming night.

"Alright. I think I'm ready."

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AShellfishLover t1_j6e1p67 wrote

The 'bord had been picked over thoroughly by this time, and a bottle of akvavit swam in a bucket of salted ice on the small table where my aunts and mother had gathered, a small jury awaiting the condemned. We came into their sight and the questions started to fall.

"Maja! You glow!" said plump aunt Ella, looking the two of us over with from her seat on the couch. She had always been the kindest aunt, and her eyes begged forgiveness for what would come tonight.

"Who is this man you bring?" asked aunt Ebba, giving Anders a long hungry glance. Anders smiled to her, and the normally cruel set of her lips turned soft, and she got up from her stiff backed chair to hug me.

"This is my bo- I mean, this is my boyfriend, Anders. Anders, Ella's and Ebba, my aunts."

The three greeted each other and set to talking, my mother's intelligence network of old busybodies at her social club seemed to have found out a bit. While mother and mormor mulled wine in the kitchen they picked at my man, asking questions about his family, their home, his prospects, and why he had taken such interest in their poor, innocent Maja. To his credit Anders was perfect, deflecting the more bawdy questions with a smirk and a wink, and doing his best to walk the tightrope laid in front of him. Yes, he was serious. No, he did not want for money. Dead, unfortunately, soon after crossing, and he an orphan.

Finally, when the dust settled my man, a little worse for wear, had satisfied his first challengers, and as if on cue my mother and mormor came from the kitchen, mugs of mulled wine for all. My mother served the glasses as her elder settled back into the soft chair that was only used when she came over, sipping her own mug and looking at Anders strangely.

"I am sorry, my dear, but your father and uncles are away collecting some last things. It would seem that it is just us tonight, but god jul!" my mother handed me my mug, then set Anders own in front of him, waiting for comment.

"Thank you, dear, but you have a guest in your home! We must not bother him with such details. Now, Anders is it?"

"Yes, mother. That is my name. And yours?" My man quipped, and Mormor's eyes lit up with interest and a bit of anger.

"I am called grandmother, or mormor in our tongue. pratar du svenska? kan du de gamla sångerna, spelman?" my grandmother countered, switching to her native tongue. "kan du spela för oss i kväll?"

I rarely heard my grandmother speak Swedish, but I heard the bitter in her voice, and felt Anders hand tighten in mine. She had been quite the musician herself, playing violin in the Orchestra and helping to pay for her children's needs after their father passed with her bow.

"Känner jag dig? innan?" Anders replied, releasing my hand and standing up. "I must go Maja. My stomach, it is unsettled."

"Oh, no, stay spelman. Just a little while? Play us a song, then." My grandmother leaned forward, her wine-darkened teeth looking like a cat halfway through finishing a mouse.

"I cannot impose, and if I am sick I do not wish for you to catch."

"It is always a man's worry, if a woman would catch. Stay, spelman. Just a little while? Play us a song."

Anders fidgeted in place, then stood from his chair. I saw his eyes looking between mormor and I, and his face begged me for an excuse, any way out of this.

"I want to leave, häxa. varför måste du vara grym?" Anders moved towards the foyer, not even looking at me as he stumbled towards freedom.

"Stay, spelman. Just a little while. Play us a song."

The tension in Anders' body left him at mormor's words, and he walked in soft steps to the door. I heard him opening the case, and heard him sobbing. My grandmother looked pleased, and sat back into her throne delighted with herself.

"What are you doing, mormor? " I demanded, standing up and getting ready to take my man home.

"Just greeting an old friend", she said with bitter words, and awaited my fiddler's return.

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AShellfishLover t1_j6e8b7y wrote

The tall, thin man I had fallen for looked beaten as he came back into the sitting room, his fiddle in his hands. I saw tears down his face, and his normal composure had left those wonderful eyes, their edges red and irises dull.

"Hon är lik henne, vet du." Anders finally said, his hair hanging limply in his face as he bent over his instrument.

"Hon är inte hennes, dåraktiga fe, dåraktiga troll." my grandmother replied, her gleeful expression marring her face. "Now, spelman, play us the song. It is a simple one, one all maidens learn young. I want to hear it, play us Näcken och Jungfrun."

My fiddler went to it, playing a song I had heard before but in a way I had never heard it. The song, a jaunty folk piece, stretched with pathos, longing, and hurt. And as he played the melody, his voice sang like a dirge.

Det bodde en greve högt upp i land/Han hade tre döttrar och nätta voro de-emed all äran

I saw a mill race, where a young woman sat with a handful of wildflowers. Anders, my magic man, looked at the maiden through the trees. The girl's face was one I was familiar with; paler, with blonde instead of brown hair, but it was mine.

det spordes över rike, det spordes över land det spordes till näcken vid älvablåa strand emed all äran

the memories saw each other, and then sat together. My fiddler was kind, the maiden hungry. The two did as lovers did, and in her face I saw mine, and as they lay there I begged to not see the ending.

han rider så fram till sköna jungfrun in dej giver jag ring om du vill bliva min emed all äran

she gathered flowers for him, brought him cakes and treats. They talked of a life together, of beautiful things, and I begged to not see the ending.

väl vill jag äga dig näckeman väl vill jag komma till tusen älvars land väl vill jag äga dig näckeman väl vill jag komma till tusen älvars strand Tral…

the swelling of her belly showed when they were undressed. Then a girl, a younger casting from the same kiln, dark hair like mine, peeked through the rushes at the race. She saw everything, and knew and I begged not to see the ending.

lyster sköna jungfrun till kyrkan att gå du godast drottning vore över tusen älvar blå emed all äran

the girl tagged along with him, smitten as her sister was, and he showed her his fiddle as she tried to learn the fingerings. She would fuss at that instrument as they lay together, plucking and bowing and making a racket, and still I begged not to see the ending.

lyster sköna jungfrun till kyrkan att gå du godast drottning vore över tusen älvar blå emed all äran

She was full then, and begging for his hand. To make her an honest woman, her face bruised from her father's hand. He had called her a whore, and they fought. He could not go into those holy places, by pacts made before she was born, and so she ran into the race, her sister screaming behind her.

så körde han jungfrun om älvenom fram och jorden hon dundrade och hällebergen sprang emed all äran

He fought into his Mother's arms to reclaim his woman, the woman he had fallen for as they lay beside his Mother. Foolish troll, damned fossegrim, clutching at his love. To a little girl it would appear he was trying to drown her, as his Mother clogged her lungs, reclaiming the life within her, to take it to the circles where Her children danced and played, to keep her grandson safe from the prying of the iron bearers, the cheats who took their land away

väl vill jag äga dig näckeman väl vill jag komma till tusen älvars land väl vill jag äga dig näckeman väl vill jag styra till tusen älvars strand Tral…

It was a poor repayment. The little girl crying. He took her hands to his fiddle, running her fingers over them as they both wept for what had happened. The blood of their secret pouring from her hands. His one gift, the thing he could give freely, the music of his heart that made them fall for him, to desire him, to never truly have him lest his Mother take them away.

She returned to him once more, before going across the water. The little one, who had seen him murder her sister. The constable had declared it hysteria, but they each knew their secret. She played for him there, as they sat one last time, and as he tried to hug her he felt the searing at his chest, that white birthmark he had claimed, the imprint of the trollkors she had worn.

The women wept, and even Mormor was teary, though nothing could change a lifetime of hate. There is no magic, troll or god, that can reverse that pain so quickly.

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AShellfishLover t1_j6e9yjf wrote

Notes:

  • Apologies for the Swedish, but it felt right to the story. Any errors in translation are mine, and I would welcome corrections as my general Scandi knowledge combined with Google Translate paved my way.

  • Fossegrim, or grim, also known as Nacken are a fascinating little bit of folklore, and I've tried a few stories with them, but this was the first that felt right.

  • If you want to know what the Hell I am quoting as the song Anders sings, it is a traditional Swedish song (the Nack and the Maiden). A version on pipes can be found here though there is more than likely one with a fiddle somewhere. The translation i ripped the lyrics from can be found here, so you can see how the texts work together

I'm glad people liked the story enough for me to come back to. I usually give a story an hour and then try to tie it up, but the prompt was too good to not finish. I hope you enjoyed, and have a great day!

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Slammogram t1_j6ee1zy wrote

Well written but I’m still confused what happened…

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fruitfiction t1_j6eo24i wrote

From what I gathered... Maja fell in love with an unageing, musical troll. Turns out her great-aunt (mormor's older sister) also loved this guy. He taught mormor how to play the fiddle.

Mormor's sister ended up pregnant & shunned from the family/village. The troll's mother is a water spirit who drowns anyone who loves or is loved by her son.

Mormor watched her sister drown. Andres was trying to save her, but to mormor's young eyes it looked like he was drowning her pregnant sister.

After her sister's death, mormor and her family moved across the ocean to where they're having Christmas dinner now.

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BiFrosty t1_j6f5ok9 wrote

You gathered way more than I did while reading it! Thanks for the synopsis, that's actually really cool!

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AShellfishLover t1_j6fbl63 wrote

Pretty much nailed it. Glad someone got it.

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fruitfiction t1_j6fdvjk wrote

I loved it! And I got to learn about a new (to me) troll!

I am curious about the fallout of this for Maja and everyone.

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CrivensAndShips t1_j6elyy4 wrote

Same. I’m getting that he’s fey and murdered/drowned the grandmother’s pregnant sister after she fell in love with him as a way to appease a stronger fey (the river?) who had some kind of control over him.

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[deleted] t1_j6emee7 wrote

The grandmother was the little girl. I assume the original girl that died was her sister. It’s the same man in both stories.

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Munoobinater t1_j6etp2a wrote

Same. Translations for the dialogue between grandma and anders would help

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Slammogram t1_j6fjnxd wrote

Like… he knocked up the grandmas sister and then his mom killed her? Like I’m confused

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Slammogram t1_j6ia7q6 wrote

Yeah, idk why they didn’t add translations.

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AShellfishLover t1_j6iydy5 wrote

Because it ruins the tension, as well as the meaning. Our narrator also doesn't understand the language.

If you wish there are places you can translate freely available online.

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Slammogram t1_j6izjlc wrote

I didn’t mean during the story- I meant when you responded afterward with “thank you for reading”. You could have added the translations then

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AShellfishLover t1_j6izp64 wrote

I mean I could have, but you also have the option to explore. Or not.

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Slammogram t1_j6j2n1f wrote

I’m also not the only person who commented this. It’s a fair critique. No one is tearing you up. Everyone here is saying it’s well written. But there is important dialogue between the grandmother and Anders and it would be helpful, especially for a mobile user like me, to have seen that in your afternote, and would have been less inconvenient for you, than the reader.

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TigRaine86 t1_j6m4909 wrote

I'm so glad to have commented on this so I could ce back and finish it. What a lovely story! You've definitely got a way of words about you. I don't speak Swedish but as someone pointed out, it was more mysterious in that way. I also loved how you subverted the fossegrim lore but also didn't exactly, as in dark things still happen but Anders is solich a well written and sympathetic character. And overall I really really like this, it has to be nlmy favorite prompt response period. Well done!

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LostFireHorse t1_j6gy825 wrote

This was fantastic, and the foreign language I had no subtitles for made it more mysterious, more emotional.

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AShellfishLover t1_j6gz4pp wrote

Glad you enjoyed it! Check out some of my other stuff if you like this, it's kinda my wheelhouse.

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steveatari t1_j6h7t83 wrote

Cool story and i dug it but incredibly hard to follow and the song somehow included commentary from the current girl and lyrics and historical facts? Terribly confusing tense/topic/time/location/song or reality jumps ♡

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SilasCrane t1_j6ez6e8 wrote

Wow. Truly brilliant work. I loved the characterizations, the detail, and the use of language. The thing I liked most, however, was how you adapted the source material.

In your story, the classic folklore monster that lures mortals to their doom is not made out to be a tragic predator who just can't help itself etc. But rather, and more interestingly, I think, the one who seemed to be the fisherman in the story, was actually the bait.

And yet, even in taking that marked diversion from the source material, you didn't just stomp all over the lore of the Fossegrim. The poor girl does drown, and it's not unreasonable for a witness to think he was responsible; he says as much in his song.

Merely making an evil figure of folklore sympathetic is no longer a subversion of the trope -- it's become more the rule than the exception, if anything. But you gave a fresh take on an old story while respecting the story you drew your inspiration from. Again, brilliant!

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AShellfishLover t1_j6f04x0 wrote

I really hate subversion as it has been used as a cudgel in contemporary urban/modern fantasy. I like the rules, and when we start into a point where you slap an old name on your creature because ours are different? Ugh, it's infuriating.

What I like to do is work within the 'rules' set forward by the specific creature, and then try to delve into the why. There's no real deep lore on why they drown their prey, or the reason for later redemption necessarily. Having a little base to build on and then make my own reasons? More fun.

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alsaturn t1_j6gamsc wrote

I absolutely love your writing style!! Wonderful read.

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AShellfishLover t1_j6gjfmz wrote

Aww. Thanks. You can look my stuff up in the comments on the subreddit for more!

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Norwedditor t1_j6e4auq wrote

Oh no...Hårgamannen took the boat to America! 💃🏼💃🏼💃🏼

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AShellfishLover t1_j6eceel wrote

Haha, the fact that Hårgamannen was gonna be my first idea on this and I switched to fossegrim/strömkarlen is kinda funny. Good eye.

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Norwedditor t1_j6ecn47 wrote

I just realised reading this you weren't done! But i don't think anyone will really get my comment haha...

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[deleted] t1_j6e5k5i wrote

[removed]

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AShellfishLover t1_j6eabh2 wrote

I finished it today, so I think you're swell.

Happy cake day!

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Goblue5891x2 t1_j6eefkh wrote

Thank you. I was very impressed with this. The addition of Swedish into the text added to the story, not detracted. It was well done. I'm a pretty harsh critic of writing, but this has been the best writing prompt response I've read so far this year. Kudos.

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Sajiri t1_j6cb9iv wrote

This is so well written! Excited for the rest

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S4njay t1_j6clw2p wrote

OMG this is so romantic, you have a way with words! Can't wait for the rest once you wake up!

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mafiaknight t1_j6cdqcw wrote

This is wonderful! I’m waiting for the next page with bated breath!

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Mulanisabamf t1_j6douc7 wrote

Illegal cliffhanger! Come back and answer for your sins! And with that I mean please write the next bit.

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TigRaine86 t1_j6c9rvx wrote

I'm so caught up! Looking forward to the rest!

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LorimIronheart t1_j6cxwbc wrote

This is great! Can't wait for part 3 to find out what creature this is :D

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Taolan13 t1_j6cxnee wrote

Eagerly awaiting the rest after rest!

Specifically, yours and yours. And mine, for that matter. I have been awake far too long.

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