The Yule Lads Diarys pt 3

December 14th- Stúfur

I rose around noon to find Davin in the living room, reading a book.

"No chores today?"

Davin looked up and smiled, "Olf said that there was nothing pressing for me to do today and said I should take the day off."

I laughed, that sounded like Olf, "Have you eaten?"

"Breakfast, yes, but as for lunch, no."

"Well, how about I make you some lunch? I'm pretty hungry myself."

He hopped up and followed me to the kitchen, clearly liking the idea.

I opened the fridge, looking around for groceries and seeing a gaping hole that made me furrow my brow. I'd had leftovers in the fridge from the night before that were suddenly gone. I'd put some Skry and rye in the icebox, thinking it would make a nice lunch when I got up, but suddenly it was gone. The loaf of bread on the counter was also nowhere to be seen, and I marveled at the boy's appetite.

As he came walking in, I looked at my little brother, trying to keep from scowling as he moved up beside me, "Got a little hungry last night?"

He looked at me, confused, "What do you mean?"

"There's a whole meal's worth of leftovers missing, and did you have to eat the whole loaf of bread? I had meat and cheese in the fridge you could have put with it."

He shook his head, looking baffled, "I didn't eat any of that. I assumed you came in hungry and had some food."

Now I was as confused as he was, "No, but if you didn't eat the food, who did?"

I asked him if Olf had been in the house, figuring he was the source of my missing food. The big icelander was usually a bottomless pit, and I’d heard his mother bemoaning her grocery bill more than once. Olf looked like his forebears, a big nordic bruiser, though more prone to smiles than scowls, and he could clean out a pantry all on his own. Davin said he had come in, but only for a few minutes.

“I went to the bathroom and came back to find him gone.”

I nodded, understanding who had eaten my left overs.

I loved Olf like a brother, but he could certainly be trying sometimes.

“Well, I suppose we should go see if Sigrun has anything we can eat for lunch.”

Davin hadn’t met Sigrun yet, and I smiled as I remembered my first meeting with the woman.

I had been sixteen and away from home for the first time. Olf had taken to me immediately, calling me cousin and bringing me into his games, and Arnar warmed to me quickly when he realized I was no pampered welsh brat. Sigrun, however, had been my first real comfort when I arrived. Arnar was gruff, but fair, and Olf was a little more energetic than I strictly liked in a stranger. Sigrun and her cats and her kitchen full of good smells and warm meals became a place I would go when I was feeling home sick or needed a moment to breathe. She must have sensed this, because she treated me like a lost lamb that she needed to fatten up so I could survive the coming winter. Within a month, I was thick as thieves with Olf, his energy having rubbed off on me, but Sigrun’s kitchen remained a place I went to seek refuge from time to time.

Arnar’s long house always looked a little odd as it sat cheek and jowl with his very English looking barns. We came around back and as I walked into the familiar kitchen, I heard Sigrun humming as she fixed lunch. She smiled as she saw us, wrapping me in a hug that I couldn’t help but return. Sigrun had always reminded me of the wife character from David the Gnome, her round face made for smiling and her skirts always homemade, covered by a thick apron. She was short and round and always had a smile and some food for me or her hungry son when we came in from work. She offered Davin a hug, and, to my surprise, he took it. Our mother had never been a big hugger, but it seemed that Davin felt the same warmth that I had when I’d first come here. She sat us at her table as she fixed us lamb stew from a pot on the stove, asking if her husband paid me so poorly that I couldn’t keep food in the house for a growing boy?

It was said with jest, and I took no offense.

“Growing indeed, but it appears that my pantry was raided by a hungry bear last night. I woke up to find my leftovers missing and a whole loaf of bread, too.”

She laughed, "Sounds like you've been visited by Stúfur, or by Olf, more likely." she said as she put down rye bread and cheese as well.

"Is he one of the Yule Lads?" Davin asked, and Sigrun ruffled his hair.

"He certainly is. He’s short and he eats the crusts of bread left over from the pan. He often takes the pan too. Were you missing any of those?"

I shook my head, slurping the savory stew, "I haven't checked yet. I was more worried about my leftovers. He doesn’t come till tonight though, right?"

Sigrun nodded, “Better lock up your leftovers after dark, or see them gone by the likes of that rogue.”

“Does he bother you much?” I asked, seeing her gleaming cookware hanging from the ceiling.

"Some, but Sigfried usually runs the lads off." she smiled at the fat ginger cat sitting by the fire, "He always keeps the Yule Lads from making too much mischief."

The fat tom was sleeping peacefully on the hearth as she bustled about, opening a sleepy eye every now and again when someone got close. Even by the standards of house cats, Siegfried was a big one. He was fifty pounds of ginger tom cat, and he had sired many kitten in his time. Most of them still lingered around the house or the yard, but they all paid their respects to Sigfried when he happened to be looking for a sunny spot.

“I could use a cat as fine as that.” I commented, feeling Frigg rub against my leg before bending down to pet her.

"Well, why don't you borrow one of his litter? I'm sure Grindle would be happy to stay with you through the holidays." she joked.

I looked over at the lean black tom, currently stalking one of its brothers, and made an uncertain noise. Grindle had earned that name fairly. He was an angry cat with a savage disposition, and he didn't like anyone. The cat tolerated Sigrun because he knew that any slight to her would be answered by Sigfried's swiping claws or Arnar's stiff work boot, but I didn't like the idea of trying to transport that little terror to my house. My arms would be in bloody ribbons before I made it to the midway point, and I started to decline.

Davin, however, made the point moot.

He walked over to the black tom and the cat looked up with surprise. No one came near Grindle if they could help it. He was unpredictable, and I was shocked when the cat didn’t immediately hiss at him. The dark shade watched Davin approach, uncommonly quiet as he reached down to pick him up. I was expecting violence, the hurt yells of my brother when the cat scratched him, but he lifted him into his arms as easy as any cat within the house. I tensed, expecting him to get a swipe for surprising the angry beasty, but Grindal only stiffened a little before melting into my brother's arms with a loud purr.

Sigrun looked as surprised as I was when Davin came back to the table, Grindle cradled in his arms like a baby, "Well, it appears I've seen everything now."

I reached a shaky hand over to see what sort of Christmas miracle this was, and when Grindle hissed and swiped at me, I knew he hadn’t had too strong a change of heart.

Davin carried Grindle home with us an hour later, the sooty devil hanging from his arms like a living shadow. I glanced at the tom mistrustfully as Davin carried him inside.I didn’t know what to expect from Grindle, besides having my ankle swiped from under any surface he decided to hide beneath, and made a mental note to wear boots inside for a while. Whether or not he could help with the Yule Lads, I didn’t know, but I was willing to find out.

The rest of the evening went as well as expected. Davin and I watched some TV, Davin enjoying the local shows, though he wasn’t yet fluent in Icelandic. Grindel sat on his lap the whole time, seeming to be taken with my little brother. I asked him how he had managed to charm him, and Davin just shrugged. He petted the cat absentmindedly, and this was the calmest I had ever seen the temperamental feline.

“I’ve always been good with cats.” Davin said, “At home, I could get even the meanest alley cat to come for a pet. It’s a little gift, I guess.”

I nodded, looking down at the purring Grindle, and agreeing.

When bedtime came, the cat snuggled down with Davin, a pair of green eyes floating in the darkness. I locked eyes with him for a moment, and it was clear that he wouldn’t let anything happen to my brother as he slept. I started to close the door, but left it cracked instead after remembering why the tom was here. He would need to get out if something came lurking tonight, and lurking it came. I slid into my own bed as the living room clock struck ten, wanting my own sleep if I was going to have to work again tomorrow night.

I was awakened later that night by a loud clang from the kitchen, the sound of cookware sliding noisily out of my cupboard.

It sounded as if someone had come looking for more than bread crusts.

I sighed as I realized that the cat was going to be no help, grabbing the walking stick I had used for hikes and making my way up the dark hall. From the kitchen, I could hear the clang of pans as they fell from the cabinet, and a low chuckle that crept under the bangs. I held the stick between my hands, preparing to swing as I came around the corner. If I swept low, I might manage to sweep him in a rush, maybe even catch a few if they were all here.

Peeking around the corner, my eyes adjusting to the darkness, I could see a small back as it rifled through the pans in my open cupboard. He was a small one, smaller than either of the others I’d seen, and looked barely over three feet tall. It was naked except for a covering of metal over his bits and chest. He clattered a little as he moved, the pans strung across him with twine and metal strands, and they bumped against the cookware as he rustled against them.

I crept into the kitchen, the little creature too intent on its pilfering to take any notice of me as I slunk in. I had the stick raised, ready for a strike, but the thing suddenly spun to glower at me, freezing me in place with its angry glare. God, it was so ugly. It looked like a potato that some child had carved badly, maybe using a spoon or something blunt. I couldn’t move, this little thing holding me in place as easily as it held my muffin tin, but it appeared that someone else didn’t have the same problem.

From behind the little thing, I could see a pair of green eyes as Grindle prepared to leap.

Grindle hit him hard in the center of the back, sending him to the ground with a clatter of cookware. The little troll yowled and tried to roll away, but the cat dogged his heels relentlessly. I kept my stick up, wanting to swing now that my fear had passed, but not wanting to smack the cat in the process. The two rolled, Stufur swinging his little club arms at the cat as he squealed like a rat in a trap.

Stufur pushed him off suddenly, and I saw my chance.

I swung the staff like a hockey stick, and watched as the little creature spun away into the living room.

Stufur squealed as he pelted into the dark little room and Grendel glowered at me as if to say, “Great, now I have to catch him again.”

We both lit out after him, listening intently as we stalked him.

My eyes scanned the dark living room, trying to find any sound that might give the little hellion away. He was covered in metal for God sake, how hard could he be to find? Grendel’s ears flicked, hearing something slight, and he leaped towards the couch. Stufur made a squeaky sound, scampering out from behind the couch, and bumped into the end table as he looked to see if the cat was behind him.

I lost them for a half second, and then there was a yowl and the scrambling of tiny feet. Grendel skidded on the carpeted floor as he chased the incredibly fat little creature. It wobbled as it ran, obese but still quick on his stubby legs, and I could see that it now had a knife in it’s tiny hand. It was little better than a sewing needle in the creatures small grip, but I didn’t want the cat to get hurt as it tried to protect us. Grendel hunched, ready to pounce, its tail swinging back and forth as it waited for just the right time. They were like gunfighters, standing ready to draw when the time was right, before my bumbling ass got involved again.

I jumped and brought the stick down, both stumbling away as it came down between them.

Stufur chuckled and lunged for the door, disappearing into the cold as it ran from this unwinnable situation.

Grendel set his displeased eyes on me again, but I told him to go back to bed as I stomped to the door and locked it.

The dark shadow headed back to Davin’s room, its tail flicking in agitation, and I went back to my own bed.

It had been a long night, but it seemed that Grindel could hold his own against nimble lads.

As I drifted off though, I wondered if he would fair so well against more of them if they showed up in force?