Here's the next chapter, which coincidentally doubles as a Halloween special. Enjoy!
Chapter 8: Samhain
When Elsa and her lady-in-waiting, Gerda, arrived at Nuffink's smithy, the Viking was hammering away at a red-hot steel rod that was gradually being flattened into a sword blade. He wore a beige tunic with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a wide leather belt with tools hanging from it, brown breeches, and brown leather boots. His long, pale hair was tied back with a brown cord, and his face and clothes were streaked with soot and coal dust.
Elsa gazed around in wonder at what had become of the building she had once considered demolishing. The Viking had completely transformed the place; almost every available surface was covered in Nuffink's tools and projects in various stages of completion. A coal fire blazed bright and hot inside the old bread-baking oven, and became brighter and hotter when Nuffink pumped the bellows with his foot. The anvil was mounted on an old butcher's block, which in turn was anchored in place with thick chains wrapped around the base. Slightly off to the side, the space between the anvil and the makeshift furnace was occupied by a large barrel of fish oil, which Nuffink was using to harden the blades he crafted.
The queen felt her face heat up as she observed Nuffink's arm and chest muscles flexing under his tunic with each swing of his large hammer. Shaking her head to rid herself of the peculiar feeling, she cleared her throat loudly, making Nuffink pause and turn toward her. The Viking smiled.
"Ah, Your Majesty! To what do I owe the pleasure this fine morning?" he cheerfully greeted, setting the hammer down and leaving his current project on the anvil.
"Do I really need a reason to visit a friend during a rare moment of free time?" Elsa replied in Norse with a smile of her own, to Nuffink's surprise. While her accent was sharper and more clipped than his own, he could still easily understand her.
"You speak my language?" he asked in astonishment.
"Of course! It's an older tradition that still persists with the local nobility and a decent number of my citizens," she informed him. Switching to English, she asked, "How's business?"
"I'm making a decent living, if I say so myself," Nuffink replied with a shrug. "Why do you ask?"
"You're not the only blacksmith in Arendelle, that's all. I didn't know how you would fare with the competition."
"Ah! Fret not, Milady; the people seem relieved that I prefer to barter rather than demand money for payment," Nuffink assured her.
Feeling a tap on her shoulder, Elsa turned to her lady-in-waiting.
"Begging your pardon, Your Majesty, but the kitchen staff has reported that many of their knives need replacing," Gerda whispered in Elsa's ear, to which the queen nodded in understanding.
Turning back to Nuffink, she asked, "What would you accept in exchange for three dozen of your finest kitchen knives?" The Viking stroked his chin and pondered.
"For you, Milady...a month's supply of dried fruit should suffice," he decided.
Elsa agreed, and the two shook hands to seal the deal, the queen's slender, dainty hand all but engulfed by Nuffink's meaty, calloused one.
"Take heed, Your Majesty!" Nuffink called out a warning as Elsa and Gerda prepared to take their leave. "I've been observing the stars, and Samhain is nearly upon us. There's no telling what wonders or horrors the mystic night could bring."
Nuffink's warning played over and over in Elsa's head as she and Gerda left his shop, puzzling her to no end.
Surely All Hallow's Eve wouldn't be that bad this year.
Would it?
...
It was the day of All Hallow's Eve. Or, as Nuffink knew it, the Feast of Samhain. Nuffink wandered through the Kingdom of Arendelle, having finally taken a day off from working in his smithy. A representative from the Royal Armory had been thoroughly impressed by his craftsmanship, and recently paid him a hefty sum of gold for an entire cartload of weapons. This in turn gave Nuffink what he needed to pay back the money loaned to him by Elsa to purchase what he needed to start his business.
Nuffink paused to adjust the wooden chest full of coins he was carrying on his shoulder before resuming his trek to the castle. Eventually, he encountered Kristoff browsing in the marketplace on his own day off from harvesting ice. The two walked to the castle together, casually chatting the rest of the way.
There was a small line of people in the throne room waiting for an audience with Queen Elsa, so it was almost an hour before it was Nuffink's turn.
"Your Majesty, I have come to settle my debt," he declared, respectfully getting down on one knee before the throne. He opened the chest, and Kai, Elsa's advisor, counted the coins within with a trained eye. He then returned to Elsa's side and whispered in her ear. The queen smiled.
"Kai tells me that you indeed have the correct amount. Your debt is settled!"
"Thank you, Your Majesty," Nuffink replied, bowing once again.
"You're welcome. But before you leave, I must ask something of you," Elsa requested. "I've been unable to get your warning out of my head. Tell me, what makes All Hallow's Eve so dangerous in your culture?"
"Ah, I had a feeling you wouldn't share my beliefs regarding this night," Nuffink began. "Very well; the Feast of Samhain is a night of powerful magic and witchcraft. A night when the veils that separate the Nine Realms grow thin. If certain sequences of events come to pass, there is a chance that nefarious creatures could bridge the gap, crossing from their own realm into ours."
Seeing Elsa's confusion, Nuffink found himself explaining the Vikings' view of creation, starting with the Nine Realms:
Asgard, home of the Aesir, the gods of warfare and wisdom.
Midgard, home of the humans, where they currently resided.
Vanaheim, home of the Vanir, the gods of peace, love, and fertility.
Alfheim, home of the Light Elves and various other faeries.
Nidavellir, the underground home of the Dwarves.
Muspelheim, the realm of fire and brimstone, home of the Muspilli, or Fire Giants.
Niflheim, the realm of ice and fog, home of the Hrímþursar, or Frost Giants.
Jötunnheim, home of the Jötnar, or Stone Giants, as well as several less benign varieties of faeries.
And finally, Helheim, the realm of the dead, those that died in a state of dishonor or from natural causes.
"So you see, Milady, it is wise to be wary of the faeries and other creatures of mischief that roam in the night," Nuffink concluded. "As the ties to their native lands are strengthened, they themselves become stronger and more malicious. Witches have also been known to use this night to strengthen their skills in the black arts."
"Well, I'm not sure that we have any witches around here, but I'll be sure to keep an eye out for these evil faeries you speak of," Elsa said with a small smile. She was having a hard time taking him seriously, and Nuffink knew it. He figured it was because of their different religions; however, he'd thought she would give him a little more credit, considering that a tribe of Trolls lived right outside the city walls, and she possessed powerful magic of her own.
He took the wound to his pride with a grain of salt, and took his leave after some more small talk.
"Do not take our friend's warning lightly, Your Majesty." Elsa turned at the sound of the voice to the left of her throne, and spotted the Grand Pabbie hobbling into the room. "His concerns are quite valid, I'm afraid. We Trolls feel an increase in our own magic whenever this day arrives. Furthermore, we also feel something dark and sinister dwelling within the Enchanted Forest at Arendelle's border. We don't know what it is, but it grows stronger with each passing year, and we are staying vigilant should it ever be loosed from its confines. If it escapes, it could very well spell doom for the entire kingdom, if not the rest of Europe."
The mere thought of something so evil lurking just beyond her kingdom sent a shiver down Elsa's spine. She stared in the direction Nuffink had gone, filled with regret for finding the situation more humorous than it should have been.
...
The sun was beginning to set over the Kingdom of Arendelle, a peaceful ending for a relatively peaceful day. Sadly for some, the peace would not last.
As the bells in the cathedral rang to signal the Vigil Mass for the soon to arrive Holy Day, a set of screams rang through the air near the city walls.
"NO! PLEASE! LET ME GO!" screamed a young girl as she was dragged against her will to the nearest set of gates. She had long snow-white hair, pasty gray-tinged skin, and blood-red eyes. She was gaunt and underfed, the brown sack-cloth dress threatening to slip off of her frighteningly thin body.
Gripping her arms tightly were two burly men with shaved heads and stony expressions, both clad in flowing black cassocks with wooden crosses hanging from their necks. The girl's bare feet flailed against the ground, struggling to find purchase and slow her captors' march.
Finally, the men passed through the gate and hurled the girl to the ground. She grunted as she landed hard on her front, and with great effort, she flipped herself onto her side, only to look into the leering face of the Abbot.
"There! After putting up with this creature for nearly twelve years, there's one less monster to defile our kingdom," the Abbot sneered. "The beasts of the forest can have you now, girl. Though I doubt even they would accept you as one of their own."
With that, the gates were slammed shut, barring the girl from re-entering the city. With tears flowing freely, she struggled to her feet and walked the only direction she could: deeper into the forest.
...
Meanwhile, Nuffink was busy chopping firewood in preparation for cooking his supper. He paused and looked around warily when he heard the howling of wolves. When no wolves revealed themselves to his keen eyesight, he picked up his hatchet once more.
He was about to cut into another log when a scream pierced the air in the same direction as the howling, which could only mean one thing. Dropping the hatchet, he ran into his house, grabbed his bow and arrows, and ran into the forest.
What he found about a hundred yards from his property was a small, raggedly dressed girl backed against a tree as an entire wolf pack was circling around and steadily closing in. Nocking an arrow, he pulled it back to his cheek and let it loose. One wolf was felled, turning the attention of the others toward him and away from the girl.
Nuffink let out a roar as he loosed another arrow, trying to scare away the rest of the pack. His tactic was working; as another wolf fell, the rest backed away, allowing him to reach the girl's side. The intended effect didn't last long, however, as the rest of the pack got bolder after two more of their members fell. At the new close range, Nuffink's bow became useless, especially now that the sun had fully set, so he slung it over his shoulder, cupped his hands together, and concentrated. A tongue of fire flickered to life in his palms, and with another roar, Nuffink sent a jet of flames at the approaching wolves.
Given the choice between their lives and the blistering inferno, the remnants of the wolf pack wisely fled the scene, leaving Nuffink alone with the girl.
"Are you alright?" the Viking asked the trembling girl, who nodded. "Can you walk?" She shook her head and looked at her feet. Nuffink followed her gaze and saw that one of her ankles was twisted and badly swollen, most likely from trying to flee from the wolves. "Well, it's dangerous to be out alone on a night like this, and you must be freezing. Come; I will provide you with food and shelter for the time being."
The girl looked up at him, about to reply in gratitude, when she froze. There was a look of shock on her face as she stared at the cloudless night sky. Nuffink turned around and looked up. The full moon was clearly visible above the tops of the trees. As was the scarlet silhouette that was slowly enveloping it. The pupil of Nuffink's remaining eye shrank in fear.
"Ye gods...it's a Blood Moon!" he whispered in horror. Turning back to the girl, he scooped her up in his arms, turned towards his cabin, and took off running. As they neared his abode, the girl could see that the wooden fence surrounding his property was covered by a multitude of hollowed-out turnips, each with a burning candle inside and a hideous face carved on the front.
Nuffink didn't stop; he ran past the fence and straight through the door of his house. That was when he finally stopped. He and the girl both panted for a moment before he set her down in his chair and closed the door, bathing them in the flickering light of the fireplace. He then pulled up a stool and sat down before gingerly examining the girl's injured leg.
"Who...who are you?" she finally asked. He gave her a reassuring smile.
"Ah, so you can speak; my name is Nuffink Haddock, and I live here, outside the city walls. I'm also a friend of Queen Elsa's. What's your name, little one?" he asked in return. The girl frowned and looked down.
"I don't know. The people at the orphanage never gave me one. They just called me freak, or monster, or even abomination. I even heard one of the nuns call me Hellspawn," she replied. Nuffink then took the opportunity to get a proper look at his guest. While her appearance answered his unspoken question, he still felt rage bubble within his chest; how could anyone be so cruel to a mere child?!
"Well, what were you doing alone in the forest, then? No doubt you're an awful long way from your caretakers," he pointed out. The girl's eyes filled with tears, and she let out a sob. Nuffink was caught off-guard by the reaction, and the only thing he could think of to do was wrap one arm around her in an awkward yet appreciated embrace. The girl clutched his tunic in both hands as she released her pent-up sorrow through her tears.
"It was the Abbot," she finally croaked when she had no more tears to shed. "He threw me out of the city and left me to die. He said, there's one less monster to defile our kingdom. I tried to be nice to everyone, but nobody was ever nice to me. Why?!"
"Because you are different from them. Therefore, they fear you," Nuffink replied, his wisdom beginning to make itself known. "If I am correct, they judge you to be a monster or demon purely because you were born with your appearance. They fail to look beyond the skin and see you for the person you are. You are only a child; I do not fear you, because you have already proven that you are not a monster." Nuffink walked over to the window and looked up at the blood-red moon shining down. "Warm yourself by the fire. I will prepare food for us both, then you should rest." He stepped away from the window and pulled the curtains shut.
...
Just as the Grand Pabbie had said, there was evil dwelling in the Enchanted Forest that had separated itself from all human contact long ago. This force of evil had been trapped in a cave by magical barriers for nearly four centuries, watching and waiting, powerless to break free...
Until tonight.
The glow of the runes carved into the mouth of the cave gradually faded until they went dark at long last. Likewise, the power behind the barrier faded, overwhelmed by the strength of the Blood Moon at its peak.
Then...she awakened, aroused from her prolonged slumber by the feeling of finally being loosed from her bonds. She gingerly crawled to the mouth of the cave on all fours, her hawkish nose sniffing the air like a hound. Then she looked up and saw the moon, and her shriveled mouth broke into a jagged yellow grin.
As she stood, her gnarled, aged joints popped like firecrackers. She took a deep, rattling breath...
Then threw back her head and let out a high-pitched cackle for all the world to hear.
Fun fact: the first Jack-o'-Lanterns were actually turnips, not pumpkins.