Chapter Text
“Teamwork!” Moominpappa exclaimed.
Moomintroll, standing nearby, looked nervous as he sported two large couch cushions tied around his middle.
“What d'you mean?” Snorkmaiden asked. “I'm not fighting anyone?”
“ Teamwork makes the world go ‘round. See…there comes a time when you fight not against, but with. My friend Wrinkles and I faced a great many foes back in our day. In an ambush, you need someone on your six!”
He pushed Moomintroll forward. Snorkmaiden felt that he wasn’t dressed in pillow armour just for morale.
“In battle, you need your ally. Your compliment. In this case—your muse. Someone moving behind you and beside you, matching your movements with an opposite strike. To the veranda!”
The veranda’s table had been moved, providing a few extra steps of room. A circle was drawn in chalk upon the planks. Moominpappa positioned them back to back in the middle of it, handing Snorkmaiden his épée and Moomintroll the foil. It all felt royal.
“Er, how are we supposed to mirror each other's movements if we can't see each other? Moomintroll asked.
“Your senses, my boy! Listen to the way the wood creaks. Planks shifting beneath your weight…”
He and Snorkmaiden tested out a squeak-squeak before nodding agreeably. It couldn’t be too hard.
“Now… allez!” Moominpappa brandished a pillow.
Both whacked it as he circled, inching along to follow him. As Snorkmaiden lunged, she lost Moomintroll behind her. He nearly crawled to recover to his spot. Back in position, they kept back-to-back until Moominpappa feinted a strike.
“ W-o-o-o-ah !” Moomintroll stumbled onto the floor again.
“We’ve got to get in sync.” Snorkmaiden linked up with his elbow and pulled forward.
They struggled to catch Moominpappa as he bounded in circles, which looked more like dancing. He waltzed, and once they got the hang of hitting him, he started up more of a tango. It would be quite easy to knock him if only they could reach; Snorkmaiden hit the pillow’s corners, and once, Moominpappa’s tail. But with all the tugging and shoving, they always ended up on the floor.
“This isn’t working!” Snorkmaiden huffed.
“Maybe we should do opposite sides? On the edge, there.”
Swords held aloft, they moved without bumping into each other. Feet poised on the line, they fed Moominpappa blade after blade each time around. Now, they were dancing.
When Snorkmaiden took control, Moomintroll surveyed the crowd. Perhaps he was looking for an impressed face, but mostly, they were silent. They watched as the three parried and spun like a merry-go-round off its hinges—that was until Moominpappa hit the brake.
“Aha, switch directions!” He hopped the other way, watching the other two crash. “Not so swift now!”
He danced away as the others followed, leaving the veranda. The teamwork was more of a free-for-all, with Moomintroll and Snorkmaiden vastly invisible to each other as they fought their target; except Moomintroll didn’t know what he was doing. He had only the knack for getting in the way.
“I surrender!” said Moominpappa. “Now, a one-versus-one!”
As if that were any better. Immediately, the two faced each other, Moomintroll's pillow armour crooked across his chest. He had no clue where to stand in the garden. It didn’t help that Snufkin watched from the steps, and Moomintroll glanced back at him, just to be sure he was looking.
“En garde. Allez!”
Snorkmaiden lunged and took a point.
“I wasn't ready!” Moomintroll cried. He held his sword out further as if Snorkmaiden wouldn't have a chance of reaching him beyond his arm.
They returned to their position. Snorkmaiden might have felt bad for striking his weak points if she wasn’t irritated. Neither of his sides were protected. Was he even watching the last training days? He never guarded his legs, nor anything else, because he didn’t block well. He swung his sword about in hopes he could either hit Snorkmaiden or knock the sword from her paws.
For just a moment, she took pity. He dodged about, even cowering out of bounds, but he looked the faintest bit hopeful.
“Try blocking!” shouted Snufkin.
Between Snufkin and Moominappa (who narrated as if the match were an international game), Moomintroll managed to trip himself up even worse. He tried to find a way around Snorkmaiden's blade, a gap to take just a single point, but his pillow armour slipped off all at once.
“I think, er… Mamma put a cake out,” he said. “Maybe we could take a break.” Without reply, he tromped off toward Moominhouse, looking relieved.
Little My popped up from below and took his place.
“He's not trying,” she said.
Trying…. well, he was trying. Too hard, perhaps. Just not for the sake of the fight. He sat aside with Snufkin where he showed off a scratch. It was pitiful, but he enjoyed himself.
“He didn't have my training,” she said fairly. “It’s his first day.”
“He's not even looking at you. He's worried about what Snufkin thinks, and you think this dunce is your muse.”
“Who said that's your business?”
“You're soft on him! The least I would do is whoop his sorry behind.”
“Fencers!” Moominpappa boomed. “This is your final match!”
His spirits couldn't be dampened by Moomintroll, nor the clouds, nor the last of the cake going to Sniff. He'd tied the living room cushions to Moomintroll tighter than he needed to breathe.
“Let’s get on with it, then!” Snorkmaiden said. “I haven't defeated you yet.”
Moomintroll waited for his strength back. Without wobbling or teeter-tottering, he kept one arm behind his back and the other swinging.
Weaknesses, weaknesses… Snorkmaiden thought.
His foil was swift, but his legs didn’t keep speed. Snorkmaiden advanced quickly and hit before her retreat. Point!
Snufkin shouted, “Stay light on your feet, Moomintroll!”
“GET HIM!” screamed Little My.
Moomintroll’s ankles were crooked. His muscles tensed. But most dangerously, his grip was slack. Snorkmaiden went straight for the foil, knocked it, and watched it fly. Diving down to the grass, it sank in with its point, no time for Moomintroll to grab it. Snorkmaiden struck his side, and, “Point!”
The crowd went wild.
“Winner—Snorkmaiden!” Pappa said. “Sweet victory!”
She beamed and shook Moomintroll’s paw.
The cheers were wonderful, though none were quite as sweet as Little My’s triumphant, “YES!”, which made it a victory, indeed.
🗡 🗡 🗡
Snorkmaiden spent the next afternoon surrounding herself with nothing but the riverbank and bulrushes for company. She had felt perfectly fine at the beginning of the day, but those feelings began to sour more and more as it went on, somehow. Whenever she stared down at the fish below the surface, the water warped them in ways that almost looked like they were fighting. The song of the swallows was eventually parroting Moominpappa’s words back at her.
‘Remember what lights that fire in you.’
What fire? Snorkmaiden wondered. By now any spark that urged her to keep fighting had dwindled. Was it exhaustion? Burnout? She felt an ache of disappointment in herself for even wondering. She was supposed to feel satisfied, proud, victorious. Where does an adrenaline rush go after it hits you? And why, for Snorkmaiden, did this itching feeling of annoyance have to take its place so quickly?
But as she laid down, these illusions withered away. The world around Snorkmaiden was drifting past her, and her eyes fell shut. As far as she was aware, the only things left in the valley were the sweetgrass and a mild breeze tickling her snout. Frustration was a very tiring feeling, indeed.
Her train of thought skid to a halt as a stone skimmed like a bullet across the water, the shock of it sending her upright.
“So!” called a familiar flat voice. “You’ve got your own scheming spot, too? I can respect that.”
“Oh!”
Snorkmaiden twisted her head to the side to see Little My sitting on a rock. She then quickly checked the rest of her surroundings, trying to get a grasp on how long she’d nodded off for. It felt like only a minute.
“Oh, hi, My.” she yawned, “I’m not scheming about anything, really, I just needed some peace, that’s all.”
“Can’t blame you. You know, Pappa’s been nutty as a fruitcake all day. He was out here at lunchtime, raving-”
“Raving?” Snorkmaiden tilted her head to the side, trying to imagine Moominpappa frolicking like a madman at a garden party.
“...about this ‘final showdown’ tomorrow!” My continued, making quotes with her tiny fingers. “I reckon it’s so Moomintroll can get another chance to win - so he doesn’t keep moping about yesterday, the sore loser.”
“Yep,” Snorkmaiden said sourly, “that’s been driving me mad too.”
“Called it.”
“Uh, no you didn’t!”
“I did,” My tapped her temple, “inside my mind.”
“That doesn’t…” Snorkmaiden shook her head, deciding not to bother, but she chuckled anyway.
“Hey, I think I might know how you feel, and I’m gonna tell it to you straight.” said My, sliding off the rock. “Boys like to think they’re made of sugar, spice, and all things nice but you can never really depend on them for anything. Look at Moomintroll - the big lump’s always making eyes at Snufkin .”
She faked a retch and almost carried on but stopped after seeing confusion bloom across Snorkmaiden’s face.
“Making… eyes?”
“I just mean how… barking mad he is about him - being spring and anything. I’m not the type to notice these things, yet somehow I feel like the only one who has .” Little My huffed, arguably just as confused herself. Everyone knew that try as she may, or may not, a being as unconventional as Little My could never fully grasp such feelings in the traditional sense.
“Whatever it is, I think my little brother’s taken the bait.” My grinned, “So, if you’ve got love letters to burn, they won’t do you much good now, that’s for sure!”
Snorkmaiden grew quiet. Rising from her spot on the lakeside, she began to stroll idly down the edge of the still bank, My following at her side. Once they felt the pebbles beneath their feet, they both stood beside each other for a moment, gazing out onto the valley.
The snow on the distant mountains was thawing and the apple orchard was regaining its greenness. But overhead, the sky looked even greyer than before.
“When I started fencing, I was hoping he’d be at least a little proud,” Snorkmaiden confessed.
“Sure he is, he’s just too thick-headed to say it.” the young mymble laughed, knocking her finger on a pebble she found. “But it doesn’t actually matter. He’s not the reason you’re learning, is he?”
Little My picked up on an annoying silence.
“... Is he?”
Snorkmaiden hesitated, paws twiddling in front of her. “I-I don’t know.”
“You certainly did before!” Little My challenged.
“I wasn’t roped into winning some prize, before! I know what Moominpappa’s trying to do, Little My. He thinks I’ll magically improve if I just go up there, believing I’m fighting for someone who won’t even look me in the eyes when it matters.”
She caught herself and stopped to process the words she’d just spoken. Looking at her arm, the scratches from the night with the robber were almost invisible, now.
“And… perhaps he’s right.”
“You chose that prize, yourself, pal.” The young mymble pinched the bridge of her nose. “I can’t believe this. You finally do something for you, and in the end, it always comes back to impressing that troll! Is that your dream? Because it sounds about as stagnant as pond water!”
It began to spit rain. Little My turned and stormed off in the direction of Moominhouse, utterly baffled and frustrated.
“Let me know when you’ve woken up.”
And all Snorkmaiden could do was watch as the little mymble got littler and littler with every step she took.
“Perhaps you’d understand if you liked someone that way.” Snorkmaiden tossed a white pebble into the lake and watched with hollow eyes as gravity dragged it further down. Her heart sank with it. Even with the rain splashing on her shoulders, she couldn’t even muster up the motivation to get an umbrella, nor the pettiness to run and tell Little My ‘I told you so’.
She let her own words linger around her, completely alone.
But the more she let them linger, the less she started to believe them.
🗡 🗡 🗡
The following day, Snorkmaiden stalled until afternoon. Her knees ached. She was too tired to stay angry at Moomintroll, and she was far too tired to argue with Little My. Everything she’d put effort into over the past week—fighting, her relationship, even herself—she’d failed. There was no monster to vanquish. No Moomintroll to save. Only herself and whatever dream she had of making it all work out. She walked back to Moominhouse with lacklustre, kicking fallen leaves.
Once she arrived, creeps and critters lined the garden, and busy hemulens stopped by. Even Mrs. Fillyjonk pretended not to watch as she stood by the bridge, wondering what the commotion was about. Moomintroll and Snufkin waved from opposite sides of the veranda steps. Snorkmaiden couldn’t guess which of them she’d be fighting today.
“Well, uh—” she started.
“There’s my star fighter!” Moominpappa burst through the door. “Look here, the swords are polished. The grass is clipped. Today is the day of, as The Fencing of the Renaissance calls it, the final showdown.”
Moomintroll held up a sweet. “And Moominmamma made marzipan pigs!”
Sniff rolled out of the Muskrat’s hammock upon their mention.
“The winner, of course, will receive a prize basket of apples.” Moominpappa looked quite proud of himself for that. “And…marzipan pigs.”
“I’ll fight her!” cried Sniff, jumping to his feet. “Give me a sword!”
“No, no, we’ll want an actual challenge for her.”
Sniff scoffed.
“That’s why you’ll be up against Snufkin, whom I’ve secretly been training every dawn. Bet you didn’t see that one coming!”
“Oh,” Snorkmaiden said. “I appreciate the…effort you’ve put into this.
Snufkin rose at once.
“I suppose I’d say, ‘good luck’,” Moominpappa added, “but you won’t be needing it!”
They took their swords, assumed position, and… allez.
Everyone else gathered outside. Now, Snufkin could dodge without losing his footing, but Snorkmaiden was right with him, keeping her eyes fixed. They engaged back and forth across the garden.
“Go for his legs!” shouted Little My.
“Don’t do that!” cried Moomintroll. “He’s, uh—uh, too quick.” He clamped a paw over his mouth, not meaning to pick sides.
First, Snufkin gained a point, followed by Snorkmaiden, and again and again they went. Moominpappa tallied their scores endlessly. All the while, the sun and wind bore down and rustled Snorkmaiden’s fur into unkemptness. She had to blow the hair from her eyes, but she hardly cared about it. All Snufkin did was keep swinging.
It was irritating in a matter of seconds how he could stay collected as Snorkmaiden yelled and lunged as if her life depended on it. He was concentrated, yet so unbothered. Even as Moomintroll favoured his fighting, there was no pressure to impress. Nothing on the table, no needing admiration like air. As much as he liked Moomintroll, he had…freedom. Snorkmaiden couldn’t keep it up for the silly troll.
She loved him, really. She did! But then, she and Moomintroll weren’t companions like the moomin parents were. She always wished it were so until she didn’t, and then she thought, Is it him, or me, or is it everything? They didn’t get along even half as well as she and Little My. Sometimes, they didn’t even act like friends. What sort of cage was that?
“Focus!” Moominpappa said. “Don’t let the flame die out.”
Snufkin gained a point during her thoughts, but she let it go. There must be a weakness. She mapped out the way he was poised. He bent his knees quite a lot. He also moved up and down rhythmically—like a routine. He copied himself… Snorkmaiden feinted high, then just as he was ready to strike back, she hit his waist.
“Point, Snorkmaiden!” Pappa yelled.
They went on, eyes darting over each other, and Snufkin gave a small smile. It was strange, but faster than the match had become miserable, it was fun all at once. Snorkmaiden only paid attention to the way her body moved, and Snufkin swinging before her. Sometimes, the audience cheered. Little My ripped up grass in suspense, whisper-shouting, “ Look out, you great lump !”
“It’s down to the wire, no backing down, now!” bellowed Moominpappa. “Remember why you’re doing this. You must take every ounce of strength from it! Who are you fighting for?”
Snorkmaiden lunged. They were nearing the veranda now, Snufkin retreating to the steps. Up one, clash ! Up another… She was so close to victory. The win would be hers, only hers. And that’s when it hit her.
“ I fight for me !” she cried.
With one last lunge, she struck her winning point. Snufkin fell onto the veranda boards, and the crowd went wild.
“That’s the game!” Moominpappa cheered.
In victory, he threw a smoke bomb across the garden, and he and Moomintroll exploded from the cloud to tackle the two fighters. Both Snorkmaiden and Snufkin grinned. Then, right on cue, Sniff stumbled out with the prize basket, dressed in a red ribbon as if it were a trophy (he would get marzipan tax for carrying it, of course).
“I put my bets on her!” a hemulen yelled before cycling away.
Creeps and critters danced circles, tripping up Little My before she made it to the commotion.
“Hey,” she said. “That was brilliant .”
She had no chance of running before Snorkmaiden scooped her into a hug.
🗡 🗡 🗡
It was around half past five when Moominpappa approached Snorkmaiden at the garden table to give her his congratulations, plus a group photograph they had all taken together after the session as a momento. Everyone looked cheerful, celebrating together.
“Snorkmaiden, I just wanted to express how exceptionally proud I am of you,” he said, placing his paw on her shoulder. “You’ve really come on in leaps and bounds, and I don’t just mean with your sword-fighting skill.”
“Thank you… but what else?” Snorkmaiden asked.
“Why, you must know! Not once did your fire go out with zero intention of lighting itself back up. That, my girl, is the mark of raw determination. You ought to carry it with you, wherever you go.”
Snorkmaiden beamed, still almost overwhelmed with joy. Moominpappa definitely seemed as proud as he said. She held her tongue thinking about the afternoon when she almost considered not going back to the fencing lessons at all. But there was no way he didn’t know, especially with Little My as a witness.
“I wanted to thank you for everything, Moominpappa,” said Snorkmaiden. “I’m no gold-medal champion, but I think I’ve found a new favourite sport.”
“Well, your sessions certainly don’t have to end here”, said Moominpappa, “Try as I may to deny it, my pre-hibernation workout isn't going to carry this back forever, but I’ve found a real knack for teaching anyhow! And there’s a friend I’ve been meaning to introduce for a good while now – a brilliant inventor, just like your brother. When the time comes, he could certainly craft an épée that fits you like a glove.”
The older moomin was clearly shining with enthusiasm. His head must have been so far up in the clouds that no anchor on Earth could bring him back down.
“But of course, it’s about what you want, in the end.”
Snorkmaiden scratched her snout in thought. It really wasn’t a bad idea, and it would give her something fun to do when not doing arts and crafts. Then she noticed that daylight was on its way out once again.
“Thanks so much for the offer, but I think I’ll have to sleep on it, first.” She stood up and pushed in her chair, waving everyone goodbye. “May I take a cake home to Snork, Moominmamma?”
“Of course, dear, what’s ours is yours.” Moominmamma packaged a marzipan pig into a small cardboard box and tied it with string. She then placed it inside Snorkmaiden’s prize basket. “And tell him he may pick off any bits he doesn’t like, I won’t be offended.”
Moomintroll ran over, paw in the air. “Wait! I can walk you home.”
Snorkmaiden tutted. “No need now, Moomintroll!”
The moomin rubbed the back of his head, sheepishly. “Oh yeah, of course not. I’ve got someone to protect me , don’t I?”
He cleared his throat and stood up straight.
“Listen, I’m… really sorry about last weekend. For all this past week. I should have put aside my fears and helped you out when you needed me. But I let you down.”
She appreciated his apology. He really did seem genuine, and although Snorkmaiden said nothing more of that night, she did invite him for a walk down the garden. They walked to the bridge, taking a marzipan pig each to snack on as they went.
“You know, I think it was really good of you, what you said back there,” said Moomintroll.
“What’s that?”
“ I fight for me.”
“Thank you, that really means a lot.” Snorkmaiden looked at her paws thoughtfully, as if she were recollecting the lost pieces that made up her entire life. “It’s so weird. For the longest time I always thought speaking from my heart meant being the snork others expected me to be.”
“Really?”
She felt a tingle run through her muscles. It felt electric. It felt alive.
“Yeah. But you know what? When I said those words then… I think my heart was speaking for itself.”
That was it. That was the missing piece. And as for Moomintroll, he may have been getting the same sense of what was going on between them. Their paths had been running parallel for a long time and converged for even longer, but now… they were beginning to part. As Snorkmaiden first saw it, she panicked, but she’d since come to expect it—almost welcome it.
“I really want to be your friend, Moomintroll!” Snorkmaiden blurted out.
The moomin scratched his head. “Are we not-”
“I mean, just your friend, without all this confusing nonsense attached. I love you, of course, but it doesn’t have to be a whole love story , does it?”
“I guess… I’ve been feeling that way, too?” Moomintroll confessed, “After all, a love story can only feel so real before…”
His voice trailed off. Of course, he knew, too.
“Look, I don’t know what you’ve told Snufkin, but I think I’d be more comfortable seeing you two as an item if we broke it off for real, first.”
Moomintroll hummed in agreement, then quickly flushed pink and started waving his paws defensively. “I-I haven’t said a word to him about anything! Wasn’t trying to… I didn’t think you’d-”
“Notice?” Snorkmaiden nodded and smirked playfully. “I’m not thick, you know.”
Moomintroll slumped onto the bridge railing, face buried in his paws. “I’m so sorry…”
“Hey,” She squeezed his shoulder. “If we're so afraid of stepping on each other’s tails like this, it‘s probably all the more reason we should let go.”
For both of them, the air suddenly became cold and heavy. It was true that after wielding such a fantastical weapon in real life, Snorkmaiden simply no longer envied the likes of fiction, for it had nothing more worth escaping to. Life could offer some of the fantasy she’d secretly dreamed of, but surprisingly, the love poems she’d read as a child had no part in it. Moomintroll, in an effort to distract himself from the uncomfortable silence, opened his ears to the distant chatter from the garden. He was reminded of the days when he, his friends, and his family could just sit quietly on the veranda and talk. There was no need for poems or clever jokes or grand tales. It was a life he missed, and he knew Snorkmaiden felt the same.
“I get these ideas too often…” The maiden spoke. “I forget to look at things for how they really are.
A firefly danced around her paw.
“Instead I chase these little fantasies, that… get away before I can catch them.”
She reached her arm towards the little bug, whose glow dissolved into the dark as quickly as it had lit up. It could no longer be seen.
“Me too.” Moomintroll looked up. “I find that they escape because I chase them to begin with.”
Moomintroll turned his head north of the valley with longing eyes. With the leaves of the forest still budding and young, you could still see the vast Lonely Mountains guarding the horizon, as cold and distant as ever.
“Might be the same with us.” Snorkmaiden’s eyes twinkled with resigned acceptance, and she offered a paw. “I think we’re just about too old for playing pretend, now. Why don’t we let ourselves just be whoever we are, as friends?”
“That’s… that’s a deal.”
They shook paws and let them stay locked for a little while longer before they parted. It was quite liberating to start anew, as strange and shaky as it felt.
But before they could say their goodbyes, Moomintroll noticed that something had grabbed Snorkmaiden’s prize winnings basket.
“Wh-what’s that?!”
Snorkmaiden looked at her feet. The ribbon had come loose and was being dragged into the river below. With no hesitation, she picked up her sword and plunged it into the water - whatever she’d picked up was so heavy it was as if the basket was full again. Moomintroll grabbed the hilt. The two nodded at each other and together pulled out the mystery thief in all its glory… or lack thereof.
Dangling from the blade was Snorkmaiden’s basket – dripping wet. On peeking inside, the two saw a little woodie stare at them intensely. Their giant eyes looked about as guilty as those of a puppy caught with a shredded newspaper, except this one had been caught with a pig-shaped snack lodged in its mouth.
“I know them!” Snorkmaiden said. “They’re one of those children that pop up everywhere!”
Moomintroll gasped. “Are you the one that’s been stealing Snorkmaiden’s food?”
“I’m so sorry!” The woodie struggled. “That owl told me to!”
They scampered away. Snorkmaiden could have sworn she spotted a pair of glaring eyes in a tree nearby, but they disappeared in a flash with the distant rustle of flapping wings.
“Rotten thieves,” she scoffed, sitting back on the bridge. “I feel silly, now.”
“But that was incredible!” Moomintroll exclaimed, “The way you just went ahead and lunged for it… I can see it now: Snorkmaiden of Moominvalley - slayer of dessert thieves, bringer of justice!”
The maiden looked at her friend in surprise for a moment then giggled.
“Gosh, it’s a good thing the woodie only just missed the blade…” Moomintroll shivered.
“Nah, foils are too bendy to stab anything. Otherwise, Snufkin would have made Swiss cheese out of me!”
The two burst into laughter. Despite her new glowing feeling of independence, Snorkmaiden didn’t mind walking home with a companion for another night, if it meant sharing more laughs with a good friend. Moomintroll’s compliments weren’t anything over-the-top, nor lovingly romantic. They came with uplifting friendliness. And his friend had the pleasure of hearing an earful of them all the way home.
They silently vowed to be independent together that night. Looking out for themselves as much as they did each other. Snorkmaiden had her sword, and Moomintroll, well, he was good moral support. In fact, he gave a share of his pig to Snork in the end to make up for the one the Woodie had stolen. All in all, it was a lovely night.
“Moominpappa should lend that owl one of his disappearing smoke bombs,” Snorkmaiden thought for a moment, “Then we’d never have to see him again!”
Fin.