Handmade
Rating: K
“I need you to teach me how to knit.”
Kristoff turned from the stack of crates, one eyebrow raised. Alarik fidgeted, realizing how the sentence sounded.
“Um… please teach me how to knit. I'd like to try to make something for Elsa's birthday. My funds are more or less tied to Elsa, so that makes buying her a gift… well it would be her paying for it and…”
“Elsa's birthday isn't for another six months.” Kristoff spoke in a flat tone, his eyebrow raising even higher.
Alarik grimaced. “Yes, well, knowing me, it would probably take me that long to make something. Or at least, make something I wouldn't immediately want to burn.”
Kristoff remained quiet for so long, Alarik was certain he would be refused.
“I'll try. It should be interesting, at least.”
…….
It was Neta, not her father, who ended up doing most of the teaching.
Not that it was Kristoff's fault. They both agreed that Alarik had been wise to start so early. It took him a month to learn the technique, and to keep the stitches on the needles. More than once, Alarik believed it certain his brother-in-law would snap the needles in frustration.
Fortunately, Neta had found them one evening in the stables- one of the areas of the castle Elsa would be less likely to walk in on them- and took over almost immediately. Both men were equally relieved.
Neta proved to be a far more patient teacher, clearly finding Alarik's blunders more amusing than frustrating. They kept to a simple project- a pale blue scarf- but even that provided Alarik with a challenge. It took an agonizingly long time to get to a length that Elsa could wrap around her neck. Worst of all was its appearance- a lumpy mess, with holes peppering the uneven surface. It even lacked a straight edge, with parts bulging out or curving in.
Still, Neta refused to let Alarik quit, sitting at the door to his lab (it had gotten too cold to remain in the stables, and Elsa was growing suspicious of his trips there), keeping up her own, far superior, projects and coaxing him to finish just a few more rows. Eventually he got to the point of binding off, but one look at the misshapen product only solidified Alarik's certainty that he would never horrify his wife with its presence. Despite Neta’s protests, he tossed it in the corner of his lab, and left, feeling defeated and despondent.
His departure meant he failed to notice Neta picking up the scarf and placing it with her knitting.
…….
Elsa's birthday was a quiet affair, as it most often was, particularly with her pregnancy having been officially announced only two weeks prior. Save for the ringing of the Jule Bell, she'd remained inside the castle and out of public view- not that Alarik blamed her.
Still, she was smiling and cuddled close to him as she opened the gifts, and he hoped it had been a good day for her, one where her fears could be put aside. As the last of the wrapping paper was swept aside, he settled deeper into the couch, intending to spend some time simply enjoying his wife's closeness.
“There's still one gift left, Aunt Elsa!” Neta looked up at them, holding a lumpy paper parcel.
“Oh, thank you Neta! Although you've already given me so many wonderful gifts!” Elsa gestured to the small pile of knitted and carved items her niece had made.
Neta handed the parcel over with a grin, waiting until Elsa began to tear it open before adding, “It's not from me! Uncle Alarik made this!”
Alarik blinked, momentarily confused, until he caught sight of a familiar shade of pale blue. He jerked, feeling the color drain from his face.
“Neta! Oh no, no, no, no, no, no!”
But it was too late- Elsa pulled the scarf free, holding it up so every hole and misshapen stitch was on display.
“Alarik, what-”
“I tried to knit you a scarf, but… you can see the result. I don't… Neta, why did you keep that!?”
“Because you made it for Aunt Elsa! That's the important part! That's what makes it special!” Neta's chin jutted out stubbornly, her glare as fierce as any her mother could give.
Alarik opened his mouth to retort, but Elsa's soft voice cut him off.
“She's right.”
Elsa wound the scarf around her neck, running a finger over the yarn. Alarik noticed that the imperfections had become far less noticeable, and the color suited Elsa. She caught him looking, and reached over to cup his cheek.
“You made it. That makes it special. Thank you, Alarik. And thank you, Neta, for not letting him get rid of it.”
Neta grinned, jumping up to hug them both.