Shout out to my mom, who reads every one of these and helps me improve in my writing!
Kristoff sat on the grass and leaned his back against the well in the center of his garden, closing his eyes as he listened to the peaceful sounds of nature. The smell of rain filled the night air as a symphony of frogs and crickets provided a soothing lullaby after the terrible confrontation with his nefarious relatives.
Well, maybe "spoiled rotten" was a more polite description. Ever since his parents passed away his uncle and cousin "took him in," which really meant offering a place to sleep in the cold attic and putting him to work, ordering him to care for the livestock, clean, cook, and tend to the garden with little time to rest in between. Meanwhile, his Uncle Wesel (or Weasel, as Kristoff secretly preferred to call him) and cousin, Hans, enjoyed the luxuries of his parents' large estate, claiming that it had been given to them in his father's will.
He hated to admit it but he despised them, especially Hans. He tried not to, of course, for his mother's sake, as her dying wish was for him to "have courage and be kind," but it was days like this when it was most difficult. Days when they were cruellest, ripping away his hopes and dreams.
Which was exactly what they did less than an hour ago when he told them he was going with them to the ball. They laughed at him, saying that he and his choice of clothes would be mocked all night long and he had stood with his head bowed in shame at their scorning, resisting the urge to punch his jerk of a cousin in his perfect, pointed nose.
Kristoff glanced down at his clothes. They were right, of course. His clothes were disgusting even if they were his very best. The faded yellow shirt was just a tad too small, with sleeves so worn that they were beginning to rip at the elbows. The white pants had a few unremovable stains, and his hole-filled black shoes pinched at the toes of his rather large feet.
It wasn't like balls were his thing. He hated being around crowds, and he didn't even know how to dance! He just wanted to see Anna again. If it weren't for her, he would have preferred to stay home anyway and hang out with the horses in the stables. He had concluded a long time ago that animals were better than (most) people.
He picked a few blades of grass from the ground, chiding himself for getting his hopes up. Why would a woman of such beauty and high status pay him any mind, much less want to see him again? He was nothing special, and if she saw him there she probably wouldn't even remember his name. He would feel out of place the whole time and would no doubt leave early due to the uncomfortable atmosphere of being surrounded by royals who looked down their noses in disdain at commoners such as himself.
He was startled from his thoughts by a sad whine, and he grinned at the sight of his best friend and most beloved companion, Sven. The German Shepherd's head hung low, eyes wide with compassion as he emerged from some bushes nearby.
"Come here, Sven." Kristoff patted the ground next to him. The dog lifted his head to look at him before resting it in Kristoff's lap. "You're so much better than them, you know that?"
Kristoff idly rubbed the spot of fur behind Sven's left ear as he contemplated his misfortune. It wasn't the end of the world. At least, not anymore than usual. He could move on, accept that he would never be able to see her again, and life would continue as it always did. He would return to plowing the fields and mucking stalls, remembering all of this like it was a passing dream, one that he would eventually, and hopefully, forget.
Yet he knew in his heart that he would always miss her, no matter how hard he tried not to. He could never forget Anna, and he certainly didn't want to. Ever since the day they met she had always been on his mind, and it seemed she would never leave.
Kristoff tried to look at the bright side. Sure, he couldn't go to the ball, but at least he wouldn't have to deal with Hans and Uncle Weasel for a few hours. For once he would have some time to himself with no one to order him around.
The peaceful silence was disrupted by a raspy cough. Kristoff looked back and saw that the intruder was an elderly woman leaning on the well, the dark skin of her face wrinkled with age. Her clothes could only be described as rags, with so many patched up holes and dirt spots that it was impossible to discern the original color of the dress.
"Um, can I help you, ma'am?" He stood, ignoring Sven's glare for jostling him from his comfortable position. He had many other questions, such as who was she, why was she standing in his family's garden, and where did she come from, but of course the first words that left his mouth were an offer to serve.
Maybe it was becoming a habit, serving people.
The woman smiled, displaying crooked teeth that had seen better days. "I was just about to ask you the same thing. But since you're offering, I could use a drink if it's not too much trouble."
Kristoff nodded and hurried to draw some water from the well. "Do you want me to fetch a cup for you to drink with?" he asked while lifting the full bucket within reach.
She shook her head and cupped her hands, dipping them in and bringing them to her lips, slurping greedily.
As he stood by and watched, he realized that he liked her. In her simple request she didn't belittled him in any way like he was used to, instead asking with a gentle kindness he hadn't seen in anyone since his mother passed away.
The stranger brushed her wet hands on her dress and straightened. "Alright, you don't have much time so let's get started!" She walked a few feet away and he watched her, his brow furrowed in confusion.
"What…?"
She stopped and reached into her left sleeve, pulling out a long object that appeared to be a silver rod, which she threw up into the air. Kristoff stared in shock and Sven barked wildly when they saw it start to glow white, throwing sparks everywhere as it whirled end over end until it fell into the hand of what was now a much younger woman, her round face free of wrinkles except for laugh lines around the corners of her eyes. Her dress, which had been filthy rags before, was now a fresh, mossy green, dark spiraling designs scattered over the fabric from the collar to the hem that touched the matching dewy grass.
"That's better." She smiled proudly down at her new attire, looking rather pleased at her transformation.
Sven finally calmed down but Kristoff felt like he was about to have a stroke. "Wha-how-who are you?!"
"Oh, I'm so sorry! Pardon my lack of manners, I assure you I was taught better. You may call me Bulda." She grinned and made a small curtsy. "I am your fairy godmother."
He slowly took a step forward, still gaping in disbelief. "You can't be real," he said, shaking his head. "This has to be a dream."
"And I have so many ways to prove you wrong!" She answered with giddy excitement, tapping her wand on the palm of her other hand. "Now let's see...you'll need a mode of transportation to get to the ball…"
"I'm not going! Don't you see? I'm a mess." He gestured to his ruined outfit.
"Hm…" Bulda tilted her head thoughtfully. "Oh, my. Yes, that's quite a bit of a fixer-upper, but it's nothing a little magic won't fix, I'm sure. Now, where do you keep your pumpkins?"
He stared at her for a long minute, eyes narrowed and brow lowered. "What do pumpkins have to do with any of this?"
She smirked, fingering the tip of her wand. "You'll just have to see."
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Fine. Follow me." He led her across the well-trimmed lawn. Sven tagged along close behind, occasionally sniffing at Bulda's new dress in curiosity.
Kristoff stopped when they reached the greenhouse and held the glass door open, motioning for Bulda to enter first before following her inside.
He stood back and watched as she studied the choice of gourds, occasionally kneeling to feel one with her fingers before continuing to the next until she stopped in front of the biggest of them all.
"Oh, yes, this one will do nicely," she said with a big smile. "Do you think you can carry it out into the open?"
He gave a short nod and lifted it with a deep grunt, trying not to drop it on his feet as he carried it out. He set it on the grass a few feet away. "Alright. Now what?"
Bulda nodded approvingly at where he had placed it and raised her wand. "You might want to take a few steps back," she warned.
He took her advice and led Sven a few feet away, waiting in anticipation to see what she would do.
She gracefully flicked her wrist and a stream of sparks flowed from the tip of the wand to settled on the pumpkin, which to Kristoff's astonishment, began to swell and expand at an alarming rate. The pumpkin's orange skin seemed to melt into shimmering gold that swirled into delicate designs. Square holes appeared on the sides as windows, and the front shaped itself into a comfortable driver's seat. The vines curled underneath to form the carriage's wheels as the finishing touch.
Sven ran around the coach in circles, barking at the strange object, while Kristoff ran his hand over the golden designs in awe, as if to make sure it was real. He turned to the woman, trying to find the right words to express how he felt.
"...wow." There was really nothing more for him to say.
Bulda laughed. "You haven't even seen the best part! There's so much more to do and very little time to do it. Do you have any horses to pull this?" She gestured to the carriage.
"Yes. Is four enough?"
"Perfect! Bring them here and make them stand right in front of the carriage."
Kristoff started toward the stables, calling Sven to come with.
"No, no! Leave him here," she said firmly.
He shrugged and told the dog to stay as he hurried to the stables.
"Where's Sven?" He asked, positioning the last two horses just like she had instructed and harnessed them.
A young man stepped out from behind the carriage and bowed. "At your service!"
Kristoff stared at what used to be his faithful hound, his face pale. He suddenly felt dizzy and was certain he would faint; none of what Bulda had done before could have prepared him for anything like this. "You-you're-"
"Human! And believe me, I could really get used to this!" Sven exclaimed as he looked down and grinned at his fancy suit. "I think I look rather charming, wouldn't you say?" He smirked as he ran a hand through his thick brown hair.
"No way…" Kristoff turned to Bulda, brown eyes almost bulging out of his head.
She chuckled. "Well, you needed someone to drive the horses, didn't you?"
He slowly nodded. She had a valid point.
"There's just one thing left," she said, thoughtfully tapping her chin. "Your outfit."
Kristoff frowned as he followed her gaze, looking down at his raggedy clothes.
"Don't you worry, dear, I'm gonna fix it. I just have to think of the right color...let's see." She stepped closer until she was only inches away from him, gently grabbing his chin to study his face.
He resisted the urge to pull away. Had she ever heard of a thing called Personal Space?
Finally she stood back and he relaxed.
"Sven!" Bulda looked back at the carriage driver, who now sat at the driver's seat with the horses' reins in his hands. "What do you think? Red or blue?" She pointed to Kristoff's shirt.
"Ma'am, I'm a dog. Or I used to be. What do I know about colors?"
"Oh...right!"
Kristoff ran a hand over his face to contain his laughter.
Bulda turned back, eyeing him thoughtfully. "Maybe I should go with a light blue. It would really complement the blond hair. But the red would do wonderful things to those adorable brown eyes…"
He looked down and shuffled his feet.
"I think...yes. I'll make it blue." She pointed her wand and Kristoff watched the glowing sparks fly through the air and circle around him, slowly transforming his clothes from his shoulders to his shoes. His shirt turned to an icy blue, with gold buttons down the front, each of them having a single tiny snowflake magically etched in the center. A matching belt appeared around his waist, and the sides of the shirt were adorned with thin golden lines of exquisite rosemaling near the hem. His pants returned to their spotless white, and even the wrinkles disappeared. His black shoes, which had once been too small, were now a perfect fit with no holes, and they were so shiny he could see the reflection of his face in each.
But the finishing touch, the simple end to top it all, was the gloves. They were pearly white, fitting so well on his big hands, and if he looked carefully at the wrists he could see the same small snowflake that adorned each of the buttons on his shirt neatly stitched into the top of each wrist.
He spread his arms and looked down at his new clothes, a big smile splitting across his face. When he looked up at Bulda his eyes glowed with gratitude. "This-this is incredible! All of it. How…how can I ever thank you?"
She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug, which he gladly returned. "You go to that ball tonight and dance with your girl. Spend time with her. Maybe sometime down the line you two could even get married and have babies. But right now, just go see her. That's all I ask."
Kristoff laughed and nodded. "I can't promise all of that, but I'll do my best." He walked over to the coach and nodded to Sven before he opened the door and slipped inside, sitting on the velvet seat.
"Wait!" Bulda ran up to the door. "I almost forgot to tell you, the magic will only last for so long. When the clock strikes twelve all will be as it once was."
Kristoff raised a brow. "Midnight?"
"Midnight."
He smiled. "That's plenty of time." He leaned out the window and grabbed her hand, giving it a little squeeze. "Bulda...thank you. Thank you for everything. "
Tears formed in the woman's eyes and she nodded. "I've done things like this for a lot of people like you, Kristoff. And I'm telling you the truth when I say I've never enjoyed it more than I did tonight." She stood back and blew him a kiss, signaling to Sven to start driving.
Kristoff leaned farther out the window as they started to move forward and looked back, waving until she had completely faded out of sight.
Thank you all so much for reading, and please leave a review to tell me what you think.
God bless!