A/N: I always promised myself I would never write two things at the same time, but the muse wouldn't let me go so I kind of did it anyway. This got it's life from my simple observation that my mother's traditional swedish costume looked a little like what Hobbits might wear and just old tales I grew up with as a child. I hope someone will enjoy it :) These first 6 parts are sort if a prologue to the real story, just so you all know!
An Unexpected Midsummer's Eve
Part 1 of 6
It is said that during midsummer, magic is at its strongest. Apparently it has something to do with the summer solstice, the date when the day is at its longest. There used to be several ceremonies and rituals that were regularly practiced in the Scandinavian countries during Midsummer in the middle ages and earlier, but nowadays only few are commonly known, and even fewer are believed in.
There is however one particular myth that most adults pass on to their children. Ever since I was a little girl, I don't even remember how old I was, I've heard that if you pick seven different flowers from seven different yards and put them under your pillow during Midsummer's Eve, you will dream of your future spouse. It was also crucial you did not make a sound during the act, but waited until you woke up the next morning, otherwise the spell would fail. I did this every year, and I loved it.
Naturally I did not believe any of it though, the magic that is, not really, because it was obvious none of the adults did either. It was tradition and it was considered adorable for children, mainly the girls, to climb over fences and walk from yard to yard to pick different flowers. It wasn't real, or at least it wasn't until that one unexpected event 8 years ago, Friday the 24th of June, Midsummer's Eve, 2005.
"Therese, come on!" the demand came from a black haired boy standing impatiently in the middle of the flower field. The tall yellow flowers reached his knees and he was eager to return home to escape the mosquito and bugs, but his sister did not seem to share his sentiment.
She stood still with her head faced down searching intensely for a different kind of flower than the yellow ones, making her auburn hair fall down her face. When she heard her brother's annoyed cry she simply gave him a quick glare through the locks before turning back to the flower. It was serious business picking the flowers, she was not about to let her bother ruin it with his whining.
Ivar huffed grumpily when he received her look and turned his attention to the flowers as well. Maybe if he could help her find the remaining blossom the ordeal would be over faster. His face lit up at the sight of a small purple flower hidden behind some grass by his foot. "Here, it's purple, come and see!"
Therese's head whipped up and a big smile made its way over her face while she rushed to her brother. Happily she picked the small purple flower and proudly held her small bouquet in a tight grip.
"Great, okay, now can we leave?" Ivar said gesturing for her to move.
She shot him a quick grin before sprinting off, leaving him behind him.
"HEY!" he growled in annoyance and rushed after her, "THAT IS SO UNFAIR!"
Therese was a much faster runner than her brother, which some might say was not particularly strange considering she was three year older than him, but it is worth to mention she also ran faster than even her father and that however was a bit more particular. It was not very surprising then that in but a few moments she had gotten to the forest that was between the fields and their house. She would have laughed out loud at Ivar's exclamations had it not been for her desire to complete the dream spell.
Running barefoot on forest floor was an art form she had mastered long ago and swift were her movements as she followed the narrow path between the trees. Soon she could no longer hear Ivar and she smugly assumed he had given up catching her. Slowing down she started to walk instead when closing in to the river. It was not a very big river, more like a stream really, but in Therese's mind it was a great river, and she always enjoyed walking by its bank until she reached the road and the bridge.
She glanced behind her back to see if Ivar was near. Their father had always taught them to take care of each other and even though Ivar was 12 years old she was still older and therefore responsible. He was probably being slow on purpose, she thought, wrinkling her nose in annoyance.
Suddenly she jerked in shock as water streamed between her feet, reflexively a hand shot up to stop herself from making a sound. Her heart had started to race by the surprise and quickly she stepped away from the stream and further up the bank. What in the world was happening?
"HOLD ON!" the muffled cry jerked her from her thoughts, "JUST HO-…"
She felt her heart freeze to ice as she realized the screaming came from the stream, and it was Ivar's voice. Her eyes franticly searched the water in front of her. Had the stream always been this broad and strong?
"IVAR? WHERE ARE YOU?" she ran along the bank, "IVAR!"
She could not see him, but she could hear him and another voice. They were both shouting and screaming but she could only make out what Ivar was saying.
"TAKE MY HAND!" Ivar screamed.
Where is his voice coming from?! Therese thought, it sounded as they were passing her but she could not see anything!
The other voice in the river was muffled by water.
"IVAR?!" she cried again.
Suddenly it was quiet. The stream was calm again and the only thing Therese could hear was the sound of her own breathing, "IVAR?!"
"Therese, what has happened?!" Therese turned around at the sound of her name and met the bewildered face of Johanna. The older girl had just passed the bridge and when she had heard the panicked scream of her younger sister she had hurried to see what was wrong.
"It's Ivar! He fell in the stream somewhere up streams, I think he was helping someone but they're gone!" Therese gestured wild, "I tried to find them, I think they passed me, but I couldn't see them and now it's quiet and I don't know what to do!"
"Therese-."
"I left him Johanna, I ran away from him and now he might be-..." the younger girl was interrupted by a mild shake on her shoulders, it was Johanna.
"Look at me Therese, look at me," Johanna ordered, "Run home and fetch Johannes and dad, Johannes should be on the way and dad is chucking wood, okay? Can you do that?"
Therese nodded through her tears and Johanna quickly gave her kiss before patting her on the back in the direction of the bridge.
She immediately started running along the road and nearly ran straight into Johannes walking from their house. He caught her easily and took a good look at her tear sprained face, "Therese wha-…"
"It's Ivar, he's drowning, Johanna told me to...-" before she got the chance to continue Johannes was already running past her.
"GO, GET DAD!" he shouted while he ran and then he disappeared down the side of the bridge.
She did not need to be told twice and once again started to run. With heavy breathing she raced through the gate into their yard, "DAD, DA-…"
Her father appeared behind the house corner still with an axe in hand. His eyes found his daughter instantly and he hurried to her side.
"Ivar-… Ivar, he fell… into stream… past the bridge… you have to hurry!" she managed to get out between her gasps for air.
"Did you meet Johanna and Johannes?" he asked and took both her cheeks in his hands, "they were on their way to the bus stop: did you see them?"
"Y-yes, they are already looking for him," she sobbed miserable.
"Good, that's good, you did good Therese," her father said and embraced his daughter and kissed her face.
"No I didn't dad, I left him! If I hadn't-…"
"No, listened to me Therese, what has happened has happened," he said, his grey looking into her bluer ones, "do not linger on it, take my axe back and then go inside, has anyone called 112?" she shook her head, "I will do that, you will call your mother, can you do that?"
"Okay," she whimpered weakly, "okay, I can do that"
"That's good Therese, you have done well," he kissed her one last time on the cheek before straightening up and hurrying towards the stream leaving her alone in the yard.
Her heart was beating hard in her chest and she was still breathing heavily. When she no longer could see her father's back she collapsed on the ground and cried.
She cried because she was terrified for her brother, because she knew it was possible he would drown. She cried because she had left him instead of walking beside him, convinced that he would not have fallen in had she done that instead. She also cried because she had spoken and dropped her flowers. She cried because she even cared about those flowers in the first place. This day had been so great, she thought. It was midsummer's eve and they had all gone to the Fjällgård outdoor museum to celebrate together with hundreds of people. Then all of them, except for their mother and Frida, had come home in the evening and Therese had dragged Johannes along with her to pick flowers because she did not want to climb over all the gärsgård fences alone. Johannes and Johanna had surely been on their way to the city to meet up with their friends. She had ruined everything.
On shaky legs she stood up and walked up to the big red house that she called home. It was a nice house that her mother and father had built before any of their children had been born. She walked up the steps and entered. The phone was at its usual place on the wall by the kitchen window. She dialed the number and nervously waited for her mother to pick up the phone.
"Hello?" it was Frida who answered the phone.
"Could you give the phone to mom?" Therese asked, trying to keep control of her voice.
"Well, I could, but she's kinda busy!" Frida replied, "maybe you could tell me, and then I could tell mom?"
"I need to talk to mom, Frida," she bit out, "tell her it's important."
On the other side of the line Frida huffed, "rude," and then after a few moments Frida had handed the phone to their mother.
"Is something the matter sweetie?"
At the sound of their mother's voice Therese could not help the new set of tears that filled her eyes and she sobbed, "mom…"
"Are you alright sweetie?" the concerned question broke down whatever control she thought she had over her emotions.
"Ivar fell into the river," she cried loudly, "and- and I couldn't do- anything!"
"Therese…-"
"Johanna came and then, and then I met Johannes and they told me to get dad and now they are looking for him!" she held her free hand to her face trying to contain herself.
"Sweetie, you stay home alright?" her mother said calmly, "I'll be coming home right away okay? Sweetie?"
"Okay mom", she sniveled, "come home quickly okay?"
"I will, sweetheart, just keep calm and Frida and I will be right there."
The phone clicked shut and Therese suddenly felt so terribly alone in the silent house. How could she ever face her mother like this? She did not want to meet neither of her parents ever again. Her father had always lectures the siblings in how important family was, how important you siblings were, yet she had left her brother anyway. She did not think at the time, because what was the worst that could happen? He was 12 years old for goodness sake, not a small six year old like Frida how could not swim. Yet the water had been so violent, and there had been someone else there too and everything went quiet. What could have happened?
No, she hated this. She hated the waiting. Never had she been one to wait and see! She was always the one that acted. Restlessly she walked to the hallway and stared at her reflection in the mirror on the wall. She straighten out her traditional norrbotten gown stared at her messy hair and tear stained face. She could not stay here doing nothing.
Struck with a unexpected kick of energy and haste she hurried out the door and ran. She was always good at running. Maybe she could run through the wood and past the fields on the opposite side of their house. That would lead her to Fjällgård and past that to where the stream met the bigger river. It was a massive shortcut compared to following the stream by every curve and even though there were no roads, or even small forest paths, she had her smartphone and in it a map, surely she could do it. If anyone could run that distance and through that terrain fast enough it was her.
In swift movements she scribbled down a short note to her mother and grabbed her phone. As she did not want to waste time changing clothes of tying shoelaces she sprinted out of the door barefoot with her dress whirling around her.
I glanced at the screen again; I was getting closer to Fjällgård. I tried to ignore the time, but I already knew my idea had been naïve because there was no way I could possibly get to Ivar quicker than the ones already looking for him, including the police and ambulance most likely.
My lungs and legs were already spent and the terrain was horrible. I wanted to scream, but I swallowed it down instead. It was getting colder too, and I hadn't even taken with me a jacket in my haste. "Shit," I said, because that was the only thing I could currently say in the middle of the forest cold, barefoot, hurt and unaware if Ivar was okay or not, "shit, shit, shit, shit!"
"It always has to me," I stopped running and stomped my way through the twigs, trees and bushed instead, "I… am… a…. freaking… abomination… of… nature… so… undeniably… useless!"
"Running through a forest, yeah, sure, no matter there's no path" I mocked myself and started to cry again, "why not? And twist my ankle? Check!"
Why was I always so stupid? Who in the world thinks they can just run through that kind of terrain barefoot? Well, me, obviously, but surely no one with brains bigger than a pea.
I checked my phone again, "no connection?!" I shrieked, "no, no, no!"
Great, just absolutely fantastic, the cherry on top the mountain of ice cream and chocolate, how amazingly fabulous. "WHEN I GET OUT OF HERE I'M GOING TO CHANGE NETWORK, YOU HEAR THAT TELIA?! 'CONNECTION NO MATTER WHERE I AM', MY ASS!"
Okay, no need to panic. The last thing I saw Fjällgård was pretty much right in front of me. If I only keep going straight ahead I should reach it soon, and even if I didn't it's not exactly as if it was a particularly deep forest, either way if I keep going I should see some sort of civilization soon enough. "Which is my I should have network," I grumbled to myself, because there was no one else around me to hear anyway. Just perfect.
Wait, is that music? I closed my eyes and concentrated on the sound. True enough I could hear music in the distance in front of me. I felt my heart lift in hope. It must be some people left in Fjällgård, maybe some teenagers, that has decided to celebrate some more. I followed the sound, limping as I walked.
Now that my adrenaline had left me I could feel the pain in my twisted ankle and all the cuts I somehow had gotten around my lower legs and hands. It was also painfully cold and somehow the sky was darker than I remembered it ever being on midsummer's eve before.
It felt… odd, when I passed the last pair of trees and stepped out of the forest. This didn't look like Fjällgård at all… I felt a chill run down my spine and I felt sick. My distress was rising and I closed my arms around my torso and tried to keep myself in check. Uncertainly I walked forward.
All I could see was hills, just so many hills, with doors and windows and lanterns and gardens. I briefly wondered if I was hallucinating, but I knew that wasn't true. It all felt too real. The pain, the fear, it was all way too real. The celebrating in front of me was too real, no matter how bizarre it seemed that people not much taller than Frida would be dancing around a midsummer pole while singing. It was all too real when they fell silent in chock at my sudden appearance through the woods and I broke.
Everything became fuzzy and I fell down on my knees and covered my face with my hands. What was happening? I just couldn't understand. I only cried, and cried, and cried.
I didn't see how the small folk pushed one of their own to inspect the hurt young woman that had disturbed their joyful feast or how that one brave soul carefully got closer to me. Nor did I see or even notice when he hunched right next to me and waved for someone to help him help me.
Suddenly I felt gentle hands and it felt so nice, and so safe. They help me up even though they barely reached higher than my waist and slowly they lead me away from the party while speaking with each other in a language I couldn't understand at all. One of them seemed a bit unhappy with something but as I staggered with my eyes closed to wherever, I couldn't bring myself to care. They were careful and soon I found myself entering a warm home and a soft bed. The male voices disappeared and female voices took their place. They cared for my ankle and my cuts. They changed my clothes and covered me in warm blankets. Lastly they brushed my hair and braided it.
I didn't open my eyes; I couldn't take any more this day. I retreated into myself and melted into the soft bed. The voices slowly diminished until only one male voice remained and the door was shut.
I could hear him sigh by the door of the room I had been appointed, but then he silently walked in and extinguished the lamp that was somewhere near my head. After than everything was still for a while before he sighed once more and retreated from the room, closing the door carefully behind him.
With everything peaceful and silent for the first time in many hours I fell into deep sleep.
That was how my first meeting with a certain Bilbo Baggins of Bag End, ended.
