Work Text:
Anybody who knew anything about Moomins knew this much: Moomins were creatures of structure. Their architectural prowess coupled with their knack for organizing tasks made them desirable candidates for any kind of society. Moominpappa had once confided in Moomin he suspected that was the reason why Daddy Jones had been so insistent that he and the rest of the Oshun Oxtra crew form a colony. As Moomintroll sat alone in his room, awake once more in the dead of Winter, he had time to ponder this concept.
Moomintroll himself was hardly an exception to this rule. While he certainly enjoyed the spontaneity of the adventures that swept through Moominvalley ever so often, Moomin truly thrived in the quiet, when he could create his own adventures exploring the hidden corners of his home. He had it all down to a formula by now; he would round up his little band of friends some way or another, and they would either set about a quest of his invention or make a game of a task Moominmamma and Moominpappa had requested. As they got older, it sometimes felt a little silly to be playing like that, but Moomin figured that finding a way to enjoy the mundane parts of life could never be a bad thing.
All this amounted to Moomintroll essentially becoming the “leader” of their little group. More often than not he was the one who got everyone together, and he was the one who set the task. It gave Moomin a certain measure of confidence, that he was so important to the functioning of their collective friendship. Of course, when this particular thought occurred to him, he attempted to bite it back-- imagine, if he thought such a thing and ended up being wrong! He would sooner die than allow himself to be so thoroughly humbled.
He could picture him accidentally letting such a thought slip in front of his friends now. Everyone would stare at him oddly, and Little My would dissolve into wicked cackling at the very notion. It would then be revealed that they all hung out without him quite often, and thought of him as a hindrance to their fun rather than the inspiration of it. They only humored him because his parents were so kind they practically raised all of them, so they had to be nice to him and love him even if they thought him a nuisance--
Moomintroll forced himself to abandon that line of thinking. Even if Little My did laugh at such a notion, he reasoned, it wouldn’t be with any cruelty. She may even be proud of him for feeling happier and more assertive, finally recognizing his importance to the group. And everybody else, well, perhaps they did spend some time without him, but Moomin himself would know how little time away from him everybody actually had. They wouldn’t stick around Moomin quite so much if they didn’t truly enjoy his company. It was simply the loneliness getting to him, he figured. He rarely had such thoughts in the company of others.
The logic didn’t stop the sting of worry in Moomintroll’s chest, and he bundled himself back up in his covers. Maybe, Moomin thought, if he made his body as small as physically possible, he could squeeze all the anxiety out of his heart and return to sleep and pleasant dreams.
Or perhaps it would be another long winter spent awake. Well, if he was going to be up anyway, he might as well channel that anxious energy into planning something enjoyable for his friends. Maybe he would also pay Too-Ticky another visit! Some company would do wonders for calming his racing mind.
Spring eventually came once more, like a breath of relief for a Moomin who couldn’t hibernate. The snowdrops that grew outside Moominhouse still held their petals in tight little buds, but the warmth in the breeze was unmistakable; as were the bittersweet notes of Snufkin’s harmonica echoing off the mountains. As soon the first note carried into his room, Moomin felt his whole body bubble with excitement. Snufkin was here, Snufkin was here not just on time but a few days early even, and that almost never happened. Moomin rushed to his window, still stuck fast with frost, and forced it open. He had forgotten to stow his rope ladder once again, and the frozen rungs frostburned his paws as he climbed down. No matter. Cold paws were of little consequence when Snufkin was waiting to meet him!
He slipped a little on the last few rungs, but made his way down safely. He could see Snufkin now, harmonica drawn as he meandered towards the bridge. Moomintroll rushed to meet him halfway, calling: “Snufkin, Snufkin!” Oh, Snufkin was here! Could anything make this day better?
Snufkin lifted his head now, and Moomin could finally see his eyes past the brim of his hat. He called once more, “Snufkin!” and saw the mumrik’s eyes crinkle with mirth. He gave Moomin a small nod of acknowledgement without ceasing his playing. Ah, Moomintroll realized, his spring tune! Remembering himself, Moomin slowed his approach, drinking in each sweet note of the new melody.
They met halfway, as they always did. Together, they took a seat on their little bridge, as Snufkin breathed the final trills into the morning air.
“That was lovely,” Moomin complimented, “It seemed to grow slowly, but there was a lot of hope to it. It was persistent, even when it was sad. Am I getting that right?” He looked to Snufkin for confirmation. Moomin knew Snufkin took a lot of care to capture a particular feeling in each new tune, and Moomin did his very best to listen. From the bright smile that lit Snufkin’s face at the compliment, his attention paid off.
“Thank you, Moomintroll. I was feeling particularly inspired this year.” Snufkin was almost preening at the praise, which made Moomin smile. Good. He deserved it.
“And you’re back earlier than usual this year!” Moomin commented before he could stop himself, “Did anything happen?”
“Oh, yes,” Snufkin hummed in response, “One day while I was South the cards told me that if I found a token that reminded me of Moominvalley before noon, I should begin my return immediately.”
“And you found your token?”
“Certainly,” Snufkin nodded, “Would you like to see it?”
“Oh, very much so, yes!” Moomin chirped, tail lashing in excitement. He would like to see, and perhaps privately thank the object that returned his dear friend to him. Snufkin laughed, and pulled a small journal from his bag, which he handed over. Moomin clutched the leather binding in his paws, eyeing the object curiously. “This journal reminded you of the valley?”
Snufkin shook his head, smiling. “Open it,” he instructed. Moomin did so—the pages naturally seemed to part at a certain spot, so he figured Snufkin must have bookmarked it for him. Except, instead of a bookmark, Moomin found a single pressed flower.
It was a large blossom, wonderfully preserved, composed of round white petals with sparse blue freckles on the tips. It had browned and shriveled a little in the pressing, but Moomin could still see the beauty in the delicate arrangement of the petals. Snufkin did a very good job with it.
“You should have seen it when it was in full bloom.” Snufkin explained, “It looked so round and fluffy, I couldn’t help but be reminded of you. I knew right away it must be my token.” And oh, how was Moomintroll to respond to that? Snufkin’s token was a reminder of him, of all things! He reverently traced the slope of the flattened stem, attempting to commit every detail to his memory.
“It’s beautiful,” he spoke breathlessly.
“It’s for you,” Snufkin announced. Moomin’s attention snapped back up at that.
“But—I can’t, Snufkin, isn’t it your token?”
Snufkin simply shook his head. “I thought of you when I picked it, so it’s for you. If you want it, that is.”
Of course Moomintroll wanted the flower! It was evidence that Snufkin thought about him while he was away-- perhaps even missed him! And it was such a beautiful thing, precious and perfect in its own right; yet when Snufkin saw it his first thought was Moomin. How could one not be touched? He wanted to cry of happiness, wanted to thank Snufkin with some heartfelt words that could match the scope of his gratitude, but it was all so raw and big inside of him he found he couldn’t speak. Instead, he gingerly closed the journal once more, and clutched it close to his chest. He only hoped Snufkin would understand.
Snufkin’s smile only grew, crinkling the corners of his eyes once more, and he knew right away the message was received. “Well then,” Snufkin said, turning to look out at the valley, “I suppose we should be waking everyone else up soon.”
“Yes,” Moomintroll replied, still tracing along the journal’s spine. It was odd, how all winter long he fretted over his lack of company, but now he was so hesitant to seek more. “I suppose we should.”
It was a couple moments more before either of them moved.
Unfortunately, with an early Spring came an early spring cleaning. As Moomin grew older he was expected to play more and more of an active role in their yearly chores. It was a shame, too, because the snow still hadn’t quite thawed yet—the perfect setting for some winter-themed adventures—and Moomintroll was stuck in the house. He sighed, rolling up another one of their rugs to shake. Snufkin never had to worry about such things. Then again, Moomin supposed, Snufkin didn’t own much of anything. An important part of having nice things was taking care of them.
Moomin hauled the rug outside and hung it over the edge of the balcony. Wielding the carpet beater in one paw, he prepared to swat every speck of dust out of the fabric--
“Hello, Moomintroll.”
Or he would have, if Snufkin’s voice didn’t nearly make him jump out of his skin. “Snufkin!” he exclaimed, scrambling to regain his composure, “What ah, what brings you here today?”
Snufkin was standing with his hands clasped behind his back, rocking on the balls of his feet. “I was wondering if you might be interested in going on an adventure today,” he began, then nodded towards the carpet, “It seems you might be otherwise occupied, however.”
Oh no. Moomin could feel his whole body droop, Snufkin had stumbled across some adventure and he wouldn’t be able to accompany him because he had chores. Maybe if he begged Moominmamma, she would let him finish when they returned? After all, adventures with Snufkin were almost always spontaneous and unique, centered around some unspeakably precious and irreplicable moment. If he missed his chance to go, that would almost certainly be it. But… no. There was no way Moominmamma and Moominpappa would allow him to ignore his responsibilities. Snufkin would go on his journey without him, have a wonderful time on his own, and would perhaps think twice before asking Moomintroll to accompany him again.
“When do you think you’ll finish up?” Snufkin’s voice interrupted his spiraling thoughts. Moomin could barely process the question.
“I… Come again?”
“When do you think you’ll be done with the cleaning? We can have our adventure then.”
Ah.
What?
That was certainly a lot to comprehend. Snufkin wanted to plan an adventure around his schedule? Snufkin valued Moomin’s company enough to postpone an adventure until he could attend? Moomin had lived, up until that very point in time, under the assumption that he would always be the one to chase Snufkin. Moomin was the one who needed other people, after all. Snufkin had always been just fine by himself. And yet Moomin was struck, in the very same second, by the realization that such an assumption hadn’t quite been fair to his friend. Snufkin spent three-quarters of the year in the same place just so he could spend time with his friends, he thought of Moomin when he was away and brought him back gifts and stories. And now Snufkin was considerately asking when the best time to take an adventure together would be. Certainly that couldn’t all be because Snufkin was begrudging the requests of a desperate Moomintroll.
Perhaps they had been chasing after each other, all this time, but were always missing the signals. The thought warmed Moomin and made something deep in him ache, all at once. Well, he decided, he wouldn’t let this signal pass him by.
“I’ll probably be too tired after we finish up today, but it usually only takes a couple days to finish spring cleaning. Could your adventure wait two more days?”
“Two days from now sounds perfect,” Snufkin confirmed, wearing a grin bright enough to outshine every star in the sky. He then gestured to the carpet beater, which Moomin still clutched tight in one paw “Would you like any help with that in the meantime?”
Moomin turned the tool over in his paw, and with a flourish, presented it to Snufkin, as one might present a mighty sword. “O, brave knight,” he drawled, “Will you aid in my most perilous quest… beating all of the dust out of these carpets?”
Snufkin chuckled and took up the carpet beater with a grand flourish of his own. “To battle!” he cried, and gave the rug a great THWACK. Moomintroll charged in behind him with his fists, and together they beat the old rug until it raised great clouds of dust, and they retreated lest they choke.
Snufkin’s help with the carpets was greatly appreciated, but he couldn’t help with all of Moomin’s chores (and Moomin would have certainly refused the offer if he’d tried), and so just as predicted it took the Moomins a couple more days to finish cleaning. It was barely the morning of Snufkin’s adventure now— Moomin had been restless the whole night, trying to imagine what Snufkin could have possibly planned for them. His inability to sleep, of course, made him worry about his inevitable future tiredness ruining the adventure, so Moomintroll was laying stubbornly still in his bed, attempting to rest without sleeping.
That was, until he heard Snufkin’s distinctive whistle from outside. Already? Snufkin often called Moomin away for early morning or nighttime adventures, but since he had approached Moomin with the question around midday before, he figured that’s when they would set out now. He rushed to the window and began his descent.
“I know it’s early, I hope you don’t mind,” Snufkin greeted him softly as he finally reached the ground, “I couldn’t wait, and I realized what I wanted to show you would be even better in the moonlight.”
“I couldn’t sleep either,” Moomin reassured, “Where are we heading?”
Snufkin said nothing, but smiling, turned and led him towards the forest.
“Always have to be mysterious, huh?” Moomintroll rolled his eyes, but followed.
They traveled in relative silence until they were a suitable enough distance from the slumbering valley, and Snufkin began to play his spring tune once more. There were few sights so lovely as Snufkin with his harmonica drawn to his lips, strolling casually through the moonlight. He looked completely at ease—there was no hint of the tension that often set his shoulders. Moomin could feel himself begin to relax as well, caught up in the hopeful notes of Snufkin’s latest composition. Moomin could easily understand why Snufkin adored traveling if it was always so pleasant.
Suddenly the music stopped, leaving Moomin oddly disoriented. “We’re almost there now!” Snufkin cheered, grabbing Moomin’s paw and dragging him through the remaining trees.
The forest opened up to a field, all covered in little white star-shaped flowers. Moomin gripped Snufkin’s paw tighter as he took it all in. Snufkin was right; the moonlight colored the ferns and grass a deep, lovely blue, and made the blossoms positively glow. The whole scene looked almost like a mirror of the starry sky above.
“How do you always manage to find such wonders?” Moomin breathed, unable to take his eyes off the sight before him.
“I camped near it that night the woodies decided to adopt me,” Snufkin explained, clear fondness in his tone, “I was too stressed by the children to appreciate it properly then, so I thought I should share it with you.”
“And? Can you appreciate it better now?”
Snufkin gave his paw another squeeze, “Oh, most definitely.”
Mournfully, Snufkin let go after that, and walked forwards into the ferns and flowers. Day was finally breaking, and the increasing light slowly erased the illusion of reflected stars. They were still quite lovely, but much less magical in the sunlight. Moomin watched as Snufkin picked some of the little flowers to weave around his hat. Maybe Moomin should pick one as well, so he could take it home and press it in Snufkin’s journal. Then the Moomin-flower could have a friend, just like Moomin had Snufkin.
He stooped over to pick one, but just as his paw closed around the stem, a ladybug crawled up onto his finger. “Oh, oh Snufkin look!!!” he called, smiling down at the tiny creature. Snufkin rushed over to Moomin’s side, and Moomin slowly extended his hand for Snufkin to see. “Look,” he giggled as it crawled across his fingers, “it chose me!”
“Yes, looks like it did,” Snufkin hummed. When he looked up Moomin noticed Snufkin had that look on his face, a kind of small smirk that signalled he was about to share a story. Moomintroll said nothing in response, giving him time to work out the words. He did so love it when Snufkin shared stories.
“You know,” Snufkin began, still looking at the little creature, “back when I was little, the other kids at the orphanage would collect ladybugs. One day they forgot to bring a jar, so everyone seemed to decide the best place to put them would be my in my hair.”
Moomintroll couldn’t suppress his snort at that, “Like little crawling barrettes?”
“That was the idea, I think. Nobody expected them to start burrowing towards my scalp. When one of the kids looked back and saw they disappeared, everyone started screaming and chasing me, trying to get them back out. They seemed to think the ladybugs would try to eat my brain!”
They both burst out laughing at such a notion. Such a tiny, harmless bug that did little but crawl on flowers and eat aphids, a brain-eating monster? Children could imagine the most fantastic things. As their laughter died down, Moomin made the mistake of looking back at Snufkin, whose giddy expression only made him start laughing again. Which, of course, started Snufkin again, which eventually led to them both flopping onto the ground, barely suppressing giggles. The motion had startled the ladybug off Moomin’s paw, and he idly watched it fly off. The sun had risen further now, and the little speck of red looked striking against the blue sky. Good thing the little guy hadn’t burrowed into his fur. Moomin turned back to Snufkin once more, whose hat had fallen onto the ground along with them. His face was still glowing with laughter.
And oh, there was something tight in Moomintroll’s chest, curled protectively around his heart; but under the warmth of Snufkin’s gaze it opened, unfurling like petals under the sun. Moomin suddenly felt so delicate he could not move, could hardly breathe, all he could think was Snufkin, Snufkin, oh, Snufkin. This had been budding in him for a long time, Moomin was sure, but it was only now that he truly understood what it was. Because Snufkin brought him a flower with the turn of spring. Because Snufkin took the time to plan out adventures just so Moomintroll could join him. Because Snufkin let ladybugs nest in his hair when he was small and because his laughter lit up his entire body.
Because Snufkin was constantly falling in love with the world, and that love radiated from his every pore. Snufkin, Moomin realized, was like the sun. And today, of all creatures, he chose Moomin to shine on.
It was Spring. Snufkin was here with him, and Moomintroll was in bloom.