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The party starts out well, friends and neighbors scattered around outside the Moomin family’s home to celebrate a bountiful autumn harvest.
The yard is decorated with gourds and pumpkins, chairs placed intermittently for guests to sit and mingle. Tall posts stand around the edge of the party; bright leafy garland strung between them, and hung on each, is a lantern, ready to be lit once the sun goes down.
A long table off to one side offers seasonal treats and beverages for the guests to enjoy, currently being occupied by Sniff and Moominmama. She’s just come out with a fresh tray of mince pies and Sniff is taking the opportunity to nab one of the hot pastries.
On the veranda is Moominpapa, playing the accordion alongside the Inspector, who’s on the fiddle. A small crowd has gathered around them clapping and swaying to the tune. It seems Snorkmaiden has even roped Little My into a dance, the two of them spinning round and round, laughing joyously.
Snufkin takes it all in, breathing a small sigh as he fiddles with the item hidden within the pocket of his smock. Mama had asked Moomin to go inside and fetch some more raspberry juice, as the punch bowl was running low. This left the chair where he’d sat beside Snufkin empty.
Seeing the opportunity, his eldest sister, Mymble Jr. takes the unoccupied spot.
“Intend on dancing at all?” She asks with a smile.
“At least once, I promised Moomin a waltz.” He divulges.
“Make that twice, I’d like one dance with you before the night is through.” His sister responds absentmindedly, searching the crowd for someone. Snufkin notices this and takes a guess as to who it might be.
“Looking for Too-Ticky?” He grins.
Mymble Jr. Blushes daintily and lets out a huff. “She promised she’d be here.” Her foot taps anxiously and Snufkin pipes in to soothe her. “I’m sure she’ll arrive soon enough, Too-Ticky never breaks a promise.”
He hears the door to the house open, turning to watch as Moomin squeezes his way past his father and the inspector and through the dancing crowd. He works his way towards the buffet table, placing the jug of raspberry juice near the punch bowl.
“I can take it from here dear, thank you for your help.” Moominmama smiles. “Of course!” The younger troll responds before turning and catching Snufkin’s eye. He grins, tail wagging and jogs back over to stand beside him.
“Hello, Mymble, are you enjoying the party so far?” He asks, leaning against the back of Snufkin’s chair; the mumrik can’t help but shiver as he feel’s the troll's fur brush along his neck.
“Oh yes, You did a wonderful job with the decorations!” Praised the mymble. “And it’s been a great turn out, even with the forecast for rain later.”
“Still waiting on one guest in particular.” Snufkin jokes, attempting to distract himself from how soft Moomin’s arm is against his nape. Mymble Jr. Shoots him a scathing look as Moomin prods further curiously. “Oh, who?”
“No one!” Both brother and sister respond at once; Snufkin with an air of mischief and Mymble more urgently.
The troll looks between the two, debating whether or not to push the matter, but ultimately deciding against it. Clearly the eldest sibling doesn’t want him involved in the matter, and she can be quite scary when cross.
Suddenly Mymble Jr. seems to perk up, fixing her hair and fluffing her dress as she stands. It appears Too-Ticky has arrived.
“It was good to see you, Moomin.” She says cheerfully, before pointing a finger at her brother. “Don’t forget I want a dance!”
Snufkin watches on in amusement as she makes a beeline towards the newly arrived guest, looking away bashfully as Too-Ticky appears to compliment her. He feels Moomin’s arm slowly retract from behind him as he moves to reclaim his seat beside the mumrik.
“She was waiting on Too-Ticky then?” The troll wonders.
Snufkin hums in agreement. “Yes, I believe she’s a bit smitten.”
Both friends observe as the girls link arms and head towards the group of dancers. “They make an interesting pair,” Moomin notes.
~
They relax together watching the goings-on, Moomin getting up briefly to get them a plate of food and some punch.
“When did you want to waltz?” Snufkin asks, nibbling on a gingersnap.
“Oh, perhaps once the sun starts to set.” the troll replies.
The mumrik glances to the sky, noting that the clouds are looking a bit darker. “If it doesn’t rain before then.”
Moomin follows his gaze, humming in apprehension. “Perhaps we should dance now then.”
“Alright!” Snufkin hops from his chair, turning to face the troll.
“Shall we my dear?” He bows with a flourish, offering his hand alongside a wink. The now flustered Moomin lets out a chuckle, accepting his offer. “We shall!”
They don’t completely enter the throng of people, opting instead to dance on the outskirts of the crowd; they giggle and whisper to one another, hands interlocked, and twirling about to a rhythm completely their own.
At one point Moomin spins Snufkin away, swiftly pulling him back for a dip, both boys laughing breathlessly; and as they do, unbeknownst to them, a small blue stone slips from the mumrik’s pocket, landing quietly in the grass
It does, however, catch the eye of Sniff, who’d been sitting nearby humming and swaying to the music. “Hey, what’s that?” He shouts, as he clambors out of his seat and towards the fallen object.
Snufkin’s ears twitch at the boy's question. Quickly catching on to the situation, he swoops down picking the stone back up before Sniff can grab it. “It’s an aquamarine.” The mumrik states clutching it to his chest.
He’d found it on his journey back to Moominvalley, as he’d been making his way through the lonely mountains. A crack had formed on the side of a cliff wall lining the walking path, and something just within shimmered in the sunlight.
Curiosity had gotten the best of him, and so he’d fished around inside with his claw, pulling out a small, light blue gem.
‘This would make a lovely gift for Moomintroll,’ he’d thought to himself; the color of the stone immediately having reminded him of the troll’s lovely clear blue eyes.
“It’s so shiny! Can’t I hold it?” Sniff begs, reaching out with grabbing hands, and jolting the mumrik back to the present.
Snufkin’s tail flicks about in aggravation at the boy’s whining, “I’d rather you didn’t.”
Unfortunately, a nosy hemulen overhears the commotion, shuffling over to inspect the jewel himself. “My goodness!” He exclaims, “what an extraordinary find, those can go for a lot of money you know!”
“I didn’t intend on selling it.” The mumrik huffs, acutely aware of all the attention that’s being drawn their way. Even Mrs. Fillyjonk steps over to take a look; “I know quite a bit about gems,” She declares, self importantly.
Her eyes widen as she takes in the stone, still clutched in Snufkin's paw. “Goodness, this must be at least three carat’s!”
“Nonsense, it looks like four to me!” The hemulen declares.
“Three!”
“Four!”
“How much money is it worth, exactly?” Sniff inquire’s, rubbing his paws together greedily.
“I already told you Sniff, I don’t intend to sell it!” Snufkin snaps.
“You’d be a fool not to, boy!” the hemulen snorts.
“Well then I suppose I’m a fool!”
Many of the dancers have dispersed by now, moving instead to form an inquisitive circle around Snufkin and the gem; all shouting out questions and shuffling closer to try and catch a glimpse.
His fur stands on end under their probing, he’s starting to feel as though he can’t breathe. There are too many eyes and too many voices, all crowding him and demanding attention.
Distantly he hears Moomin call his name, but the troll’s voice sounds muffled. A white paw reaches for his shoulder; a gesture meant to reassure. But all Snufkin can grasp in his panic is that someone is trying to touch him, and he won’t allow it.
Eyes dilating, he lets out a hiss, smacking the hand away with a desperate shout. “Leave me alone!”
The crowd finally goes quiet as the mumrik scuttles backwards and out of reach. He looks up just long enough to see the hurt reflected in Moomin’s eyes before he turns tail and runs towards the forest, absentmindedly shoving the troublesome blue gem back into his pocket.
~
He’d felt silly as soon as he’d run off, briefly debating whether he should turn back around to at least apologize to Moomintroll. The thought was dismissed as soon as it entered his head however. He was already across the bridge and past his campsite; the humiliation would only be worse if he didn’t commit to his escape, he figured.
Once he’d entered the thick covering of the forest, sure that the others could no longer see him, he slowed his pace. He wandered aimlessly, unsure of how much time was passing. He’d wanted to present the aquamarine gem to Moomin, perhaps later on in the night when everyone else had gone back to their respective homes and it was just the two of them, alone. Now everything was ruined.
He’d hit him.
The look of shock and hurt on Moomins face replayed over and over, his own final shout of “leave me alone!” echoing in his skull. He felt awful.
“Poor Moomintroll,” he despaired.
Eventually, the trees became sparse and the dirt and stone beneath his feet turned to sand. Without the forest to block the worst of it, the harsh winds beat against him, attempting to push him back. He’d paused for a moment, listening to the sound of thunder rattling in the distance, before pushing his hat down tightly over his head and making his way towards the water.
Now here he stands, on a rock overlooking the vast ocean, feeling very tired and sorry.
The sky and the ocean are very angry now, the valley awash in darkness with the overhanging storm clouds, and large waves slam against the side of the rock Snufkin stands upon. Each time, a small puddle forms beneath him, soaking his boots before the water has had the chance to trickle its way down the crevices of the rock, and return to the sea.
Perhaps, if he stands here long enough, the sea will pull him in and he’ll turn to seafoam, like a story he’d once been told about a mermaid. Surely then his mind wouldn’t be plagued with such things like shame and guilt.
His loathsome thoughts are scattered to the wind as he hears the sound of sand being displaced behind him, and growing louder. He glances over his shoulder, and really only feels a bit surprised to see a very frazzled Moomintroll running towards him. “Snufkin, there you are! What on earth are you doing!?”
‘That’s a very good question,’ he reasons to himself, ‘what am I doing?’
“Enjoying the weather,” he finally settles on, just as thunder crashes around them. Moomin has reached him now; tentatively stepping up onto the rock beside Snufkin and assessing him.
“Oh…yes, of course.” Moomin turns from his friend to the horizon, restlessly shifting his weight from foot to foot. “You’ve been out here a long time. The storm was approaching fast so we had to end the party, but you still didn’t return.” The troll began. “I was getting worried, so I went out to search for you.”
“Worried?” Snufkin asks quietly. “Even after I…”
Here he trails off, his face heating, too ashamed to continue. He ducks his head behind the brim of his hat, shielding his face from Moomin’s bewildered gaze.
“Of course!” Moomin shouts, “especially after that!” He takes a calming breath, relaxing his shoulders, before turning to Snufkin with a look of guilt. “I know crowds make you anxious, you probably felt trapped under all the attention. I’m sorry for that.”
The mumrik’s heart begins to race at this, long held back tears stinging the backs of his eyes. His dear, sweet Moomintroll, apologizing as though any of it were his fault. He was always so selfless and kind, it made his heart ache.
Snufkin shakes his head furiously before meeting the troll’s gaze earnestly. “No! I’m the one who’s sorry, I smacked your hand-” here his voice breaks, before lowering; “I didn’t mean to.”
The tears have begun to escape now, he’s too exhausted to stop them.
Moomin makes a soft cooing noise before wrapping the boy in his arms. “I’m sorry, so sorry.” Snufkin cries quietly, voice muffled against the fur of the troll's chest. Moomin merely shushes him, rubbing his back.
They hold tightly to one another, as Snufkin calms, Moomin whispering soothing words as he kisses the top of his head. “Shh don’t worry, it’s okay. You were just frightened.”
Another bout of thunder claps nearby and Moomin lifts his eyes to assess the ever hovering storm clouds. “It’s going to pour soon.”
Mother nature, with her wonderful sense of humor, hears his statement and lets a heavy drop of rain land on his nose. One drop leads to many, coming slowly at first, before falling in heavy sheets.
Moomin yelps in shock as the frigid rain water soaks them through. He grabs hold of Snufkin's arm, who has not yet moved, and urgently pulls him back down the beach and towards a large cave. It appears to be the same one they’d explored years ago; though, the storm has made it too dark to tell for certain.
They only go in about five feet, just far enough to escape the downpour. Moomin hunches over, hands on his knees as he catches his breath, watching the storm outside. Beside him, Snufkin moves, plunking himself down in the sand. He’s being eerily quiet now.
The troll stands upright, glancing between his silent friend and the rain outside. “Snufkin,” he begins, “you’re not embarrassed now, are you?”
The mumrik hunches his shoulders, lifting his knees to his chest; his tail swishing anxiously behind him, and creates a divot in the sand. “Perhaps a bit,” he mumbles hesitantly.
Moomin sits down beside him, a calm warming presence, in the cold damp cave.
“I’ve cried in front of you plenty of times,” he reasons, “have you ever thought any less of me for it?”
Snufkin’s head jolts up quickly, “never!” He exclaims.
“Then why would I think any less of you?”
“It’s different for me!”
“How?”
The mumrik halts at this, in hindsight, he sounds rather foolish. Unable to think of a suitable reply he merely shrugs, “it just is.”
Moomin huffs out a laugh, “that’s silly Snuf! You realize that, don’t you?” Snufkin just groans, hiding his face against his knees.
“I don’t like being weak in front of others,” he admits with shame. “It makes me feel even more pathetic.”
“I could never think of you as pathetic! You’re probably the most capable person I know.” Moomin reassures. “For the longest time I sort of idolized you.”
Snufkin flinches at this, he didn’t deserve to be idolized, he didn’t want to be idolized. He was just a Snufkin.
Moomin notices his discomfort, quickly elaborating. “That was when we were much younger of course, you were far more mysterious to me then.” Moomin chuckles. “I like to think I know you pretty well now.”
“Am I no longer a mystery?” Snufkin asks, a bit amused despite himself.
Moomin lets out a quick bark of laughter, “Oh no, you still are, no doubt about that!”
Snufkin can’t help but smile. “Good, I think I'd prefer if it stayed that way, a vagabond must have some mystique to him after all.”
They share a grin, moomin bumping his side.
Snufkin goes quiet for a while, lost in thought, and Moomin sits patiently, waiting for him to organize the chaos in his mind.
“I suppose…if it’s you I’m being pathetic around, I don't mind quite so much.” He states diffidently, glancing at moomin out of the corner of his eye. “But that in itself is frightening.”
“Being comfortable around me frightens you?” The troll asks in confusion, tilting his head.
“No…yes? Sort of.”
Snufkin can feel his face heating up now. “I suppose, I don’t want to rely on you too much,” he admits, before tacking on with a rather fake sounding chuckle; “you might just get sick of my wily ways, and then you won’t want me hanging around any longer.”
Moomin scoffs. “Snufkin, I will always want you!” He asserts indignantly. An awkward beat of silence follows, Snufkin begins to grin.
“Ah- that came out wrong,” Moomin protests. “I- oh dear.” His tail spasms as he covers his face with his hands, hoping to hide just how red it’s become.
Snufkin makes an odd wheezing sound beside him, causing the troll to peek at him from between his fingers.
“You want me, do you?” The mumrik grins, looking amused and perhaps, just a tad flustered himself.
“Don’t tease me!” Moomin cries, flopping on his side. Snufkin crawls after him, not allowing him to escape, and pokes at his stomach. Moomin just curls himself into a ball, humiliated.
Snufkin lays down beside him after a while. “Come out?” The mumrik pleads. Moomin hesitates, but ultimately cannot deny him, and removes his hands from his face. Once his blue eyes meet Snufkin's brown ones, the mumrik smiles gently.
“I want you too, you know.”
The fur on the back of Moomins neck puffs. “You do!?” That- that’s good, very good! Thank you!”
Snufkin’s eyes crinkle with humor. “You’re welcome, I figured that it was a bit obvious by now.”
And while yes, they had begun to exchange more romantic gestures recently, Moomin felt it was nice to have a spoken confirmation.
The troll fidgets on his side for a moment, before scooting himself closer and nudging his snout against Snufkin’s nose. Snufkin hums, lifting a hand to the troll’s cheek, and returning the kiss.
“I do care about you, very much, Moomin.” Snufkin declares bashfully.
The troll sighs dreamily, “and I you Snuf.”
He’s about to lean back in for another kiss, but the moment is ruined as Snufkin’s mouth opens wide with a yawn. Moomin chuckles as the mumrik covers his mouth with a blush. “Sorry, I suppose I’m sleepy,” he apologizes.
“That’s alright, it has been a long day.” Moomin sympathizes. The mumrik nods, rolling onto his front to rest his head on his arms, before flinching suddenly.
“Are you alright?” The troll asks with worry, sitting up to assess him.
“Yes, there’s just-” he pauses, reaching under himself and pulls out a stone, the aquamarine stone. He’d forgotten about it being in his pocket.
They both stare at it, sitting innocently within Snufkin’s palm. “What are you going to do with it?” The troll questions.
“Well I was going to give it to you.” The mumrik sighs.
Moomins eyes shine at this. “Really!?”
Snufkin nods, lifting the other boy’s paw till it’s facing palm up, before placing the gem upon it. “There you are, aquamarine to match your eyes.”
Moomin slowly touches the side of his eye in wonder. “Are they really the same color?”
Snufkin smiles, reaching out to stroke the troll's nose. “Just about, they’re very lovely.”
Moomin’s face turns pink at his comment, the fur on his cheeks fluffing. “You’re terribly suave, you know.” He breathes, scooting closer and wrapping the mumrik within his arms.
“I try,” Snufkin concurrs.
“Thank you Snuf.”
“Mhmm,” he responds drowsily, causing Moomin to giggle and nuzzle his head. “How about you get some sleep?”
“If you insist.” Snufkin agrees easily, allowing himself to drift off.
~
As Moomin lays quietly, watching the storm rage on outside, he feels the sleeping boy within his arms shiver. He glances down, watching as Snufkin’s peaceful face turns to a grimace, another shiver wracking his body.
Rubbing his back, the troll notes that the mumrik’s clothes still have not dried from the rain they were caught in earlier. The fabric having seemingly held onto the moisture, as opposed to Moomin’s fur, which dried fairly quickly.
‘And his back is facing the entrance of the cave.’ He thinks to himself. ‘The wind probably isn’t helping.’
“Snufkin,” he coaxes, gently shaking the mumrik’s shoulder.
The boy grumbles, reluctantly peeling his eyes open. “Moomin?” He asks, “what’s wrong?”
The troll begins rubbing his arms, trying to coax some more warmth into them. “You’re freezing Snuf.”
Snufkin slowly sits up, still half asleep, his teeth beginning to chatter.
“Perhaps, you should take off those wet clothes?” Moomin coaxes.
All traces of drowsiness leave the mumrik in an instant, as he turns to Moomin with wide eyes.
Realizing belatedly what a forward statement that was, Moomin begins to stutter with embarrassment. “It’s just- they’re probably preventing you from warming up properly!” He explains, tail thrashing.
“…Alright.”
“Alright?”
“Yes, do you mind closing your eyes?”
“Oh!” Moomin exclaims, shutting his eyes firmly and slapping his hands over his face for good measure. “Yes, sorry!”
The sound of shuffling fabric begins to echo in the cave, causing the troll’s fur to stand on end.
‘Snufkin is removing his clothes,’ Moomin thinks dizzily.
‘He is currently in close proximity to an almost naked Snufkin.’
He feels a bit light headed, he might pass out actually.
“Okay, you can open them.” The mumrik calls.
Moomin stalls for a moment, wondering if that’s really such a good idea; Snufkin seems to be fine with it, he’d given his permission at least, he reasons.
In the end, curiosity wins out, the troll slowly allowing his eyes to open one at a time.
Before him, Snufkin fidgets in only his short drawers and chest bindings, and Moomin takes him in, feeling rather dazed.
It’s easy to forget just how tiny the mumrik is, his body constantly hidden away beneath his baggy green smock. ‘How can such a small creature carry so much strength and resilience?’ The troll wonders with awe.
Moomin shakes his head, forcing his thoughts to clear. Snufkin’s teeth are still chattering from the cold, now’s not the time to be admiring him. That can wait until later, when the threat of the mumrik freezing to death no longer looms over them.
Tentatively, the troll opens his arms, gesturing for Snufkin to come closer.
The mumrik seems hesitant, so Moomin attempts to reassure him; “I promise, I just want to warm you up.”
Perhaps it would have been more effective if his voice hadn’t cracked.
“Mhm, and how do you intend on doing that?” Snufkin jokes, shooting the troll a somewhat wobbly grin; and perhaps he’d done so in an attempt to ease the tension between them, but it’s really only caused their minds to wander.
Seeing that Moomin is about to respond, Snufkin frantically waves his hands. “No!” He squeaks out, “don’t answer that, actually!”
They sit together in a charged silence, both boys turning away from one another. Moomin fidgets with the end of his tail for a moment to calm himself.
“I would never do anything without your permission, Snufkin.” He states, turning to give the mumrik an earnest look.
“I know, I’m not worried about that.” Snufkin says truthfully. “But I fear I’d give you permission to do just about anything.”
“Oh…oh!” The troll’s face goes red rather impressively, hand coming up to rub the back of his head. “Well, for now, could I just have permission to hold you?”
An affectionate smile breaks out across Snufkin’s face. “Of course,” he answers, moving closer to allow Moomin to gather him up in his arms once more.
“Snufkin, your skin is like ice!” The troll hisses, arranging the mumrik so he’s sitting curled within his lap.
Luckily with their difference in size, Moomin is able to wrap himself around the smaller boy almost completely, providing a soft, warm, sanctuary.
Snufkin allows himself to relax, his shivers slowly subsiding as he buries his face within the fluff of Moomin’s chest.
Above him, the troll releases a gratified sigh.
~
They must have dozed off at some point, for the next thing Moomin knows, he’s being awoken by tender kisses along his neck. Yawning, he allows his eyes to flutter open.
“Mm, hello there,” he smiles, absently tilting his head and baring his neck more fully to the mumrik’s ministrations.
As he does, he takes a quick look outside, noting that the rain has finally stopped. It appears the sun has set however, as the sky still remains dark.
“What time do you suppose it is?” He asks.
Snufkin pauses his affections for a moment to follow his gaze. “Night,” he unhelpfully states, causing Moomin to release a snort, which quickly turns to a yelp at the feel of sharp teeth nipping his shoulder.
“Alright, alright! Paying attention now.” He chuckles, grabbing Snufkin’s waist and dipping him to gain access to his lips. The boy is much warmer now, he notes with a pleased hum, their mouths moving together in tandem.
Snufkin releases a quiet moan as Moomin rubs a hand down the newly exposed fur on his back, which leads to his tail. It seems he’s found a sensitive spot; the knowledge sends a jolt of excitement through the troll, making the fur on his neck puff.
He takes advantage of this, experimentally scratching along the base of the mumrik’s spine and causing the boy to squirm, arching himself closer with a broken mewl.
Moomin breaks the kiss staring down with shock at the mumrik, who’s own eyes are blown wide.
He hadn’t expected such an…enthusiastic response. It was both startling and exciting.
“Alright?” The troll asks, panting, his voice a bit rough.
Snufkin’s eyes dilate further as he gives Moomin a quick nod, gaze unwavering. “Yes, please continue.”
And so he does, running slightly unsheathed claws along Snufkin’s back and trailing kisses along the side of his face and down his neck; and if the kisses end up being more tongue than anything, Snufkin doesn’t seem to mind, only releasing pleasure filled groans in response.
His only complaint comes when the troll moves to lay them both along the sand, the mumrik jolting beneath him.
“Owch!”
Moomin immediately lifts them back up, inquiring after him worriedly with labored breath. “Are you okay? What happened?”
“A rock jabbed me,” Snufkin grumbles, rubbing at his back.
Replacing Snufkin’s hand with his own, he soothingly kneads the injured area, luckily the rock hadn’t broken the skin. “I’m sorry, are you alright?” Moomin asks.
“Yes, I’m fine, it really startled me more than anything.” The mumrik responds with a defeated sigh, snuggling his face into the troll’s warm chest. “I should have expected it, we are in a cave, afterall.”
Moomin hums regretfully, “perhaps not the best place for a tryst?”
“Mhmm, we’ll stick to fields and forests.”
“And your tent…and my room perhaps, on occasion?”
“Yes, on occasion,” Snufkin agrees, grinning up at the larger boy wickedly.
“Oh dear, but you are tempting,” Moomin swoons, giving Snufkin’s face a thorough bout of nuzzling.
The mumrik accepts his affections gladly, wrapping his arms around the troll’s neck and pulling himself closer with a reverberating purr. “We really ought to stop though, before one of us is stabbed again.”
Moomin sighs dramatically, but does cease his kisses to instead rest their foreheads together.
“Suppose we should head back now that the rain has stopped?” Snufkin wonders.
“The others are probably worried,” the troll agrees reluctantly. “Little My wanted to come with me to find you, but Mymble told her that only I should go.”
Covering his face with his hands, Snufkin grumbles with embarrassment. “I made such an awful scene, I don’t know how I’m going to face them.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll be there with you, and if anyone wants to say anything they can take it up with me first.” Moomin declares, placing his hands on his hips sternly and causing Snufkin to chuckle.
“Thank you my dear, you’re much braver than I am!” He praises, placing a peck upon the boy’s snout.
~
As soon as they make it across the bridge to Moominhouse, Snufkin finds himself enveloped in the arms of his eldest sister.
“Snufkin, you had us all so worried!” She exclaims, leaning back to check him over. “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine Mym,” he assures, squirming awkwardly under her concerned gaze.
“That horrid, nosy, hemulan; I gave him and Mrs. Fillyjonk a piece of my mind after they made you run off.”
“Yeah, you should have seen their faces while she was hounding them!” States Little My, having run up to them following her sister; “they had the nerve to be offended, so I bit them!” She grinned.
And even despite everything, Moomin and Snufkin can’t help but give a slight shudder of sympathy for them, knowing first hand how sharp the little mymbles teeth are.
“Come on inside now, Mama’s prepared tea to warm you both up.” Mymble Jr. Insists, ushering them towards the house as Little My runs off ahead to alert the Moomin parents of their arrival.
“That wasn’t too bad, suppose there was nothing to be worried about after all,” Moomin whispers to him.
“Except all the fussing,” Snufkin disputes.
“Yes, but how could one not fuss over you.”
“Hush you flirt,” the mumrik replies, attempting to hide his grin as he elbows the smirking troll beside him.
“There you are my dears, oh you must be cold!” Moominmama fretts, meeting them at the door and immediately wrapping them both up in soft, thick quilts.
Guiding them in, she has them sit on the settee, before pouring them each a cup of steaming hot tea; elderberry, by the smell of it.
“We’re alright Mama, really, we found a cave to shelter from the storm.” Moomin sooths, though his efforts are wasted, as Snufkin releases a horribly timed sneeze.
They both freeze, glancing at one another as the room falls silent.
“Now you’ve done it,” pipes Little My
Mama turns towards the kitchen at once; “I'll make some soup, drink your tea!” She states sternly.
Moominpapa clears his throat, drawing their attention.
“Well boys, did anything exciting happen while you were braving the storm; fallen trees, flooding, lightning strikes?” As his guesses continue, he grows more energetic; arms and hands flying about, gesticulating wildly.
Snufkin disrupts his imaginative musings with a shake of his head. “No, nothing like that. As Moomin said, we hid out in a cave.”
Though, upon seeing how crestfallen the older gentleman looks at his lackluster response, he decides to play it up a bit.
“Although, we did get caught in the rain at first, and the cave was awfully close to the violent waves of the sea! It very well could have flooded, and then we’d have been trapped.” He looks over to Moomin who blinks at him for a moment in confusion.
The mumrik widens his eyes, subtly tilting his head towards Moominpapa, and silently asking his beau to play along.
“Oh! Oh yes, in fact, I’m certain it was slowly filling with water behind us. There’s probably a pool now where we once sat!” Moomin attests.
“By jove, it’s a good thing you got out when you did, you could’ve drowned!” Papa exclaims with glee.
Snufkin nods along sagely, as the troll beside him hums in agreement, both boys doing everything within their power to keep a straight face.
The same cannot be said for Little My however, as she releases a loud snort. “You’re both full of shi- ow!”
“Language My!” Mymble Jr. Chastises, retracting her hand from where she’d flicked the younger girl’s cheek.
Little My glares at her fiercely, rubbing at the offended spot. “Well they are!”
“Hmm, well for all I know, this was just an elaborate scheme to get out of dancing with me!” Mymble teases, now directing her attention to her younger brother.
“Aah, so that’s what this was really about,” Moomin jests. “Snufkin you scamp, you should’ve told me, we surely could have come up with a better plan!”
“Ooh, stop it, the two of you, I'm not that horrid!”
“Really? What about the time you pretended to have the flu so you wouldn’t have to visit with mother?” Mymble Jr. Banters.
“Or when you suddenly disappeared as soon as Mrs. Fillyjonk and the inspector came around to figure out who’d stolen the cherries off her cherry tree.”
“I didn’t take all of them, there were plenty there,” Snufkin mumbles quietly.
“Oh and when Sniff roped us all into helping him search for pirate’s treasure, and yet as soon as we’d all made it to the beach we realized you’d snuck off somewhere along the way!“ My pipes in.
“Alright, you’ve made your point!” The mumrik grumbles with embarrassment. “I’ve had just about enough of your bullying, I think it’s time I take my leave.”
“Ah there he goes, running off again,” tsks Little My; and though Snufkin knows she’s only teasing, it feels like a blow, more than any of the other comments had.
Huffing, Snufkin makes for the door, still tipping his hat and bidding them a goodnight; though, it comes out a bit gruff and lacking any real enthusiasm.
Moomin hops up after him, turning back to the group momentarily with a hesitant, reassuring smile. “I’ll be right back, don’t worry,” he adds, noting Little My’s sudden look of regret.
As the door closes behind them, the troll places a gentle hand upon the mumrik’s back. “You know she didn’t say that in spite, don’t you?”
Snufkin shoots him a half hearted smile, his tense posture melting a bit as Moomin begins gently kneading the knots in his shoulders.
“I know.”
Moomintroll hums, stepping around him till they’re facing each other head on.
“You don’t sound very confident.”
“Well, it’s true isn’t it?” Snufkin mumbles, kicking a pebble off the veranda. “When it comes down to fight or flight, I tend to choose flight. I did it again today, perhaps I’m just a coward.”
“Don’t you dare say that!” Moomin exclaims, turning the mumrik’s downcast head up towards him.
Once he’s sure Snufkin’s attention is on him, the troll states; “you’re one of the bravest people i’ve ever met, you travel south, every winter, on your own!”
He takes Sufkin’s shoulders into his paws giving him a gentle shake. “You only have yourself to rely on out there, and yet you seem to manage it just fine, time and time again. Don’t you realize how much courage that takes?”
Snufkin merely shrugs. “It’s what I’ve been doing for as long as I can remember, it’s just my nature.”
“Well, I still think it’s impressive.”
Then, Moomin goes quiet for a moment, contemplating the mumrik and causing him to squirm.
“What?” Snufkin asks self consciously.
“It’s just, I never really thought about it…you’re probably so used to dealing with things on your own, you’re not used to letting others help you, or having to look out for anyone else.”
“I think you make too many excuses for me, my friend.”
Snufkin pauses, mouth opening and closing a few times, trying to find the right words; “I am sorry Moomintroll, for what it’s worth- for running off so much. I promise I’ll try to do better.”
Moomin shakes his head. “They say old habits are hard to break; though, not impossible.”
“I wish it were easier.”
Moomin just gives him a small smile, enveloping him in his arms and nuzzling the top of his head.
“Well, I believe in you, and no matter how many times you run away, I will always wait for you…or come after you- depending on the situation.”
Snufkin snorts, leaning back and lifting his head to place a kiss under the troll’s snout. “And for the times when you don’t come after me, know that I will return to you, always. Even if it may take me some time”
“I know it,” Moomin whispers, smiling wistfully.