Note: This story is set sometime after chapter 11 and before Tuuri's...accident. In other words, during an unspecified time before all the really bad things began to happen. The word list they use can be found on page 585 of SSSS.
The afternoon was waning. Threads of golden sunlight peeked from beneath the cloud cover and were caught in the ribbons of steam rising from the bowls Emil carried. He delicately made his way to Lalli's evening retreat, taking care not to spill stew on the two sheets of paper also clutched in his hand.
The Finn accepted his bowl, thankfully without incident this time. With Tuuri's help and some extra effort in the non-verbal communication department, a significant amount of progress had been made since Lalli's inglorious waking. Bowl-flipping had ceased and Lalli scowled a bit less when Emil spoke to him in Swedish. But as far as actual conversation was concerned, things weren't much better than they'd always been.
However, Emil had a plan to change all that.
"Here", he said, handing one of the sheets to Lalli. The other boy took it, looking puzzled. "Let's practice during mealtimes", explained Emil. He pointed to the sheet, and then motioned between Lalli and himself.
The Finn took the paper, glanced over it, and made a grunt of recognition. "I'll go first," said Emil. Clearing his throat, he picked his first target from the list.
"Roo….Ruoka", he said, pointing at Lalli's bowl. Then, he pointed at his own. "Mat."
Lalli considered the pantomime in silence, before gesturing towards Emil's stew. "Mat."
Emil's face lit up. "Ja!" he exclaimed. He pointed at Lalli's bowl again. "Ruoka." His friend gave an approving nod.
Feeling confident, Emil decided to venture into some new material. Taking a slurp of stew, he quickly swallowed before following up with a verbal description: "äta".
The Finn scanned his list for the word, and, not finding it, stared at the Swede blankly. Emil repeated himself, miming the act of eating. "Vi äter mat." he said, hoping the more familiar word would provide some context.
Comprehension dawned on Lalli's face. "Ah," he muttered, "syödä". As he dutifully parroted the Swedish counterpart, his stomach gave a low growl.
Emil laughed when he heard the rumbling. "Du är hungrig!" Lalli's brow knitted together for a moment, sifting through the short sentence. "Joo. Hungrig." He gave a small smile. "Tai 'nälkäinen'."
With their system now field-tested, they moved quickly through "drink", "bowl", "stone", "tree" and even "cat" when Kitty came over to investigate their activity. Emil's pronunciation of Finnish was rubbish, and Lalli's Swedish wasn't much better, but between them they managed to stumble through the list.
Before long, their bowls were empty, and Emil could see Mikkel rinsing out the cooking pot in the distance. The sunset had painted the sky with pink and gold. Soon it'd be time for Lalli to go on his nightly reconnaissance.
Every time he watched the scout disappear into the distance, Emil wondered if he would see him again. While the Finn's job was vital to their mission, it was also the most dangerous by far. It seemed to Emil that the least he could do was to try to improve his language skills, so that Lalli wouldn't be so alone on home base as well as off.
One last bit of practice then, before they parted. Emil cleared his throat a second time, and nodded towards the mage. "Vän."
There was no confusion in Lalli's face with this word. He gazed at Emil for a moment, before nodding back. "Joo. Ystävät."
Emil took a deep breath. "Jag är glad. Att vara din vän."
A real smile flashed across Lalli's face, bright and brief as the winter sun.
"Minuakin, Emil."