SAVING SANTA - ❝magic has always flowed in the soils of our land.❞
at santa clause's icelandic headquarters, arnþrúður glyrandottir - ash, for short -
is living her best life as santa's one of favourite and most devoted elves. ash is loved by her...
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We've begun our car ride back to Reykjavík in the morning of the 10th of December. Bryn was a little anxious, and I was not sure why. Because of driving? Or because Tomten was coming with us and he'll see her drive?
“You’re sure you can leave your barn like that?” Bryn asked a little after we had left the border of her grandparents’ town. Tomten sat in the back row, in the middle, so he slipped a little forward so his head and chest were in the hole between us.
“Yeah, I’m sure!” Tomten sighed deeply. He had spent the first half an hour reaching forward every five minutes to change the radio channel because he didn’t like the certain song they were playing. Turns out, Tomten was keeping up with the top hits of the mortal realm, even from a little barn. It was annoying. He was far more familiar with humans’ business than I ever was. Even after I spent a week with Bryn, there were still phrases she didn’t understand because of my use of the language. But no, Tomten used the 21st Century Icelandic perfectly fine. “It’s a little town. We, Tomtens, know each other around here. They know it’s my territory and my family. And I will be home in time to scare your cousins a little and give them gifts, Bryn!”
Bryn chuckled.
Oh, so they have inside jokes now? Am I third-wheeling right now? Oh, my sweet Santa!
“So my cousins are not a part of the doomed side of the family?” Bryn glanced at me quickly for the answer, but I figured Tomten knows the same thing I do.
“Well, they are… not directly related to the betrayer, I guess!” I answered, tilting my head towards the cold car window to cool myself down a little.
They’ve spent the next hour talking about Bryn’s younger cousins and how cute they are with the grandparents. All while… I tried to make notes in my notebook that Bryn lent me earlier. I wrote down all the things I knew about the Yule Lads and I’ve tried to remember all the things Gaylia told me about them. Gaylia loved sinister stories and horror scenarios. Lenna was also content, but she always liked to hear more about blood and scheme.
She always was pleased when Gryla came into the story with her Yule Cat that wandered on the streets.
“Hey, is everything okay?” Bryn patted my arms an hour later with gentle fingers. I looked up, staring at her pleading eyes and slightly blushed cheeks. “Did you get to something?”
“Yes, actually!” I nodded and smiled at her encouragingly. I’ve tried to show her that I’m fine before she gets worried. “I wrote down the Yule Lads and their schedule. Tomten, can you check if our infos line up?”
“Hell yeah, hand it over!” I passed over the notebook to him.
“Okay, I need a recap. Tell me about these Yule Lads!” Bryn started to drum on the steering wheel, and while Tomten checked my notes, I gathered my thoughts to summarize the Yule Lads’ mythology to Bryn.
“The Jólasveinar are the sons of Gryla and Leppaludi. They are a group of 13 mischievous pranksters who steal from or harass the population and all have descriptive names that convey their favourite way of harassing. They come to town one by one during the last 13 nights before Christmas and all of them have their own… speciality. They leave small gifts in shoes that children have placed on window sills, but if the child has been disobedient they instead leave a potato in the shoe. Or… other shit.” I reviewed the old child stories to Bryn who tried really hard to listen to me and understand what I’ve been saying.
“Oooh, I think my bunny slippers just ran for cover! You are right in all… except one!” Tomten leaned closer, leaned his head to the back of my seat. I gasped and groaned. I hated when someone - especially a man - questioned my knowledge. Especially in things I know I’m an expert in. “They are not Lads”
“What do you mean they are not Lads!” I moaned loudly. “Their name literally says Lads. In Icelandic and in English too. How are they not lads?”
“They are girls, little elf!” he patted my shoulder, grinning like Cheshire cat. Forking Tomten! “I met them a few decades ago, and trust me, they are female!”
“Then why are they described as boys?” I glared at him angrily.
“Misogyny, I don’t know!” he shrugged.
“Patriarchy in mythology too? We are Icelandic, damn it!” Bryn rolled her eyes.
“They don’t expect girls to be… nightmares and villains in child stories.” Tomten started his big speech, getting all passionate about women’s rights. “ They don’t expect girls to wreak havoc on the streets for thirteen whole nights till Christmas. Maybe it was easier to say they were boys. And they defied all men. Dishonour on them for underestimating the power of strong women.”
“Preach!”
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a/n: hello hello, sweet christmas fans!
anyway... tomten is a real star here right? 😂😂 and ash's little jealousy is getting funny 🤣🤣
dont worry, they will bond a little in the next chapter
btw: the chapter title is totally symbolizes ash's homicidal thoughts towards tomten 😂😂🤣🤣
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