I've been listening to the soundtrack of Olaf's Frozen Adventure nonstop since I saw it and came across a hilarious song. It's the ballad that Kristoff sung to the sisters, but extended! The traditional version, it says. And man, if you haven't listened to that, you so need to.
Anyway, I wanted to do a lil fic 'bout Olaf's adventure, but I just couldn't figure out what. Then this hit me between the eyes.
Hope you enjoy :)
One winter's evening, as snow blanketed Arendelle with its beauty, Anders and Kristen had trouble falling asleep. Kristen was positively ecstatic, having always loved it when they would 'Ring in the Season' as Aunty Elsa put it. And Anders couldn't get to sleep even if he wanted to, having practically stuffed himself all things sweet, not to mention the gingerbread castle. He was on a sugar rush that nothing could put a stop to. Naturally, the two five year olds were chittering amongst themselves, telling one the other what they had loved the most about their day when their door creaked open.
"Just what's going on here?" their father's voice put an immediate stop to their laughing.
"Oh, hi Papa," Kristen fidgeted, jumping from her brother's bed to her own right next to it. "We were just…uh, we –"
"We were talking 'bout what we like the most 'bout today!" Anders bounded on his bed, grinning madly.
"Oh?" the blond man stepped into the room, his face changed from stern to fond. "What did you like the most?"
"The bell!"
"The food!"
They both yelled their response at the same time and glared at each other at what they thought was the best.
"Nah-ah!" Kristen shook her little red head vigorously, "The bell's the best!"
"No, the food!" Anders rubbed his tummy, "Did you see all those sweets! Those weird purple bendy candy ones are the best!"
"Candy canes." Kristoff corrected, placing his hands on his hips. "And I think you should try and control yourself next time 'round, buddy."
"But they're so yummy!" he whined. "How can I not eat all of 'em?"
"Papa's Flemmy stew is better." Kristen added her two shillings with a smug smile.
Anders' own red head whipped towards his twin sister to glare at her.
"My Flemmy stew is the best, yes." Krostoff crossed his arms with a proud head tilt.
"Papa," Kristen began, the end of the epithet rising to indicate a question she wants to ask. She crawled towards the end of her bed, "why do we have that tradition?"
The mountain man smiled watching his son crawl to the end of his bed to hear the answer too.
"The stew is made from the Flemmy statue we all made – "
"No, I mean the part where we sing 'bout Flemmy."
"Well," he turned around to retrieve a lute he kept in their room to lull them to sleep some nights. "It's a called a ballad for a reason."
"What's a ballad anyway?" Anders asked, crossing his legs to sit more comfortably. Kristen followed suit, loving to mimic her brother in everything he did.
"It's a song about a story –"
"Flemmy's story!" the little girl said, bouncing in excitement at the prospect of the song.
"Yes," Kristoff stroked the strings, listening if they were still in tune. "I only sing a part of the story to our family because…well, there are many reasons but the main one is 'cause it's so long."
The twins grinned at each other. They adored it when their father sung to them, and if this song was going to be a long one, then all the more reason to love it.
"Are you ready?" he asked his children.
They nodded so fast, he thought their heads would pop off. He smiled, and started to play the cords slowly. He focussed on the rhythm and feel of the strings underneath his fingertips. When the intro was finished he looked up at his children's expectant faces.
"There once was a troll held in highest esteem
For his manner was kind and his fungus did gleam.
The ballad of old Flemmingrad,
Beloved by each troll girl" he looked at Kristen, "and ev'ry troll lad." He finished, looking at Anders.
The twins giggled and swayed from side to side as their father sang.
"They gifted him berries and moss cake and stew;
He gobbled the zeal as he zealously grew" Kristoff made himself bigger as he acted out the story.
"To such a LARGE old Flemmingrad,
He always got full and for that, he was glad."
He smiled before he struck a rocker's pose with his lute spitting out the melody as a fast pace.
"They loved to watch him roll, roll, roll" Kristoff turned in a circle after each word. "With laughter he would roll, roll, roooool."
The children laughed at his antics as he rolled farther away from their bed.
"Then one Winter's day" he spun around to face them and started to skulk menacingly," humans crept up so fast"
Kristoff then waddled towards their beds, "The trolls had to roll through a tight mountain pass,
But dear old GIANT Flemmingrad,
He tried to go through, but got stuck," he stopped 'stuck' between their bed posts, "just a tad."
"Oh, no!" Kristen cried, her hands flung to her mouth. Her brother shushed her, hanging on every word his father sung.
"The people grew frightened," Kristoff made a scared face and held his lute brandished before him, "and pulled out a sword,
"So Flemmy,"he brought his lute back to play the melody, "he blended right into the fjord."
"Phew!" the little girl huffed, wiping her brow. "At least he got away."
"Not quite, Pebble." The blond had continued with the melody until it was time to reach the reason behind the song.
"The ballad of old Flemmingrad" he sung. "He never got out and for that, we are sad.
"Wedged…" Kristoff said solemnly, "but not forgotten.
"For Flemmy couldn't roll, roll, roll," he moved with the rhythm as he sang. "Oh, Flemmy, won't he roll, roll, roll!"
Kristoff stopped playing, looking at his children "And that's why we have this tradition."
"That's so sad!" Kristen exclaimed, eyes swimming. Anders nodded his agreement, frowning at his father.
"But, but why do we celebrate it then?" he asked, distraught. "It's sad. Isn't it supposed to be 'bout sumthin' happy?"
The children were too busy staring at Kristoff, waiting for an explanation, that they didn't notice their mother peek into their room. Kristoff kneeled before their beds, a sad smile pulling his lips.
"I'm sorry if I made you unhappy." He reached over to wipe a tear from Kristen's face. "But this is a way to remember Flemmy, even though this happen a long, long, long time ago."
"Is-" Kristen sniffed, "Is that why we make Flemmy out of rocks and stuff we find?"
"Yes. To remember him." His smile grew as he stood. "Care to sing this part with me?"
The kids nodded, solemn and determined to honour the troll they've come to love. Kristoff played the cords, took a deep breath, and sang with his children.
"Ev'ry December we all gather 'round" Kristen jumped over to Anders' bed as she sang with her brother and father. "To pay our respects to a troll so renown;"
"In remembrance of the friend we had," Anders looked at his sister in challenge.
"A jolly old soul we called Femmmagad!" Kristen sang/shouted the name out using gibberish because she had trouble pronouncing it like her brother could. It's been a running joke since the twins could sing along with them. The three of them giggled having stopped the song for a while to laugh, still unaware of Anna.
Untill she started singing, "We all dig deep down and we uproot the past,"
"Mama!" the twins cried looking at her, Kristoff turned to see her walk towards them. He grinned at her and strummed the tune.
"We shove up its nostrils a fist full of grass." He sang, plucking on his lute.
"We shape his likeness," the kids sang.
"bless his soulllllll!" The four of them sang together, letting the last note linger. "Oh, Flemmy the fungus trollll."
Kristoff picked the stings to end the song.
"I wondered why I heard music coming from a room," she looked at Kristoff pointedly, "where children are supposed to be sleeping." She looked at her twins and raised an eyebrow.
"We couldn't sleep!" Kristen was quick to say, "an' then we talked 'bout what was the best part of the day – "
"The food." Anders interrupted with a smirk.
"The bell." Kristen shot her brother a quick glare, "An' then Papa came an' then we asked 'bout Flemmy an' then he sang us the whole story." She looked at her mother with doe brow eyes, "Mama, did you know 'bout Fl-Flemmmagid?"
"Flemmingrad." Kristoff and Anna corrected fondly.
"Kristen, here lemme help you say Flemmingrad." Anders turned to his sister, holding her hands, "say after me, 'kay?"
She nodded, staring at him with wide eyes.
"She always opens them wider when she tries to understand something," Anna commented, leaning against Kristoff. The mountain man snaked an arm around her waist and smiled at his children.
"Fl." Anders said.
"Fl…" Kristen echoed.
"Em."
"Em…"
"Shouldn't they be sleeping?" Kristoff asked his wife.
"Min."
"Min…"
"Wait just a few more minutes." Anna whispered, enjoying the sibling bonding.
"Grad."
"Grad!" Kristen clapped her hands excitedly, "I said it!"
"Now say it together." Anders instructed. The little girl stopped clapping and nodded before she widened her eyes.
"Fl…em…m-min" she stared at her brother who mimed the last part she had forgotten. "– grad! Fl-Fle-m-min-grad. Flem-min-grad. Flem-mingrad! I did it! Mama, Papa, did ya hear! Flemmingrad!"
She then proceeded to say it in different tones of voice. A low as her cords could go, and then as squeaky, and then as loud as she could, and then –
"What on earth is going on here?" Elsa floated into the room with a raised eyebrow at her wide awake family.
"Aunty Elsa!" the twins cried, bouncing happily.
"I thought they would be sleeping already." Elsa turned her eyebrow towards her sister and brother-in-law.
"Wellll…this happened." Anna shrugged, "Kristen, why don't you tell Aunty Elsa why you're still awake?"
"Okay! We couldn't sleep an' –"
"We talked about what the best part of the day was –" Anders interrupted her flow.
"The bell is the b – wait…" Kristen looked at the lute her father was still holding with his other hand. "I changed my best part of the day."
"To what? The food? I knew you would." Anders grinned at her, "What was you're fav –"
"Noooo." She let the word drop like a stone flung into a pool of water. "The Flemmy song."
"Oh, yeh," Anders looked at the lute too, "I change mine too."
"The short song about stuffing grass into a troll's nostrils?" Elsa asked, pulling her face.
"Yeh! But it's lon-ger!" The kids said.
"It is?" Elsa and Anna asked, turning their heads to look at him.
"How come I haven't heard it before?" his wife raised an eyebrow which Elsa mirrored without knowing it.
"You guys really have expressive eyebrows." He commented shaking his head, "Because!" he chuckled, "It's a long story and I only sung the last stanza the first time, seven years ago, and it kinda stuck as a tradition after that."
"Well, let's hear it then." Anna moved out from his hold and went to sit behind Anders on his bed.
"Come one Aunty!" Kristen patted the space next to her with a wide grin.
A sigh that was both exasperated and fond escaped Elsa's smiling mouth. She took off her ice heels and sat behind her niece, holding her close. Anna whispered something to Anders who nodded with a grin and hopped onto Kristen's bed the same time Anna did. Kristen giggled with her Aunt when the bed dipped with their playfulness and moved to create room for them. Anders wormed himself into Elsa's grasp next to his twin while Anna sat next to her big sister, leaning her shoulder against a cooler one.
Four pairs of eyes then looked up at Kristoff who stood before them holding his lute. He chuckled at their expectant faces and lifted his instrument.
"Are you ready?" he asked, strumming a few notes to begin the ballad anew.
At their nods of encouragement, he started to sing. "There once was a troll held in highest esteem…"
Way more dialogue than I've ever done before...but there you have it.
Constructive critique will be welcomed, 'cause I don't quite know if this was written in a way that made it easy to understand.
'Till next time :)