The Yule Log

[ragnarsson]

who: The Norse and everyone else in the city!
what: The Norse celebrate Yule. Gods help everyone.
when: December 22nd, Winter Solstice
where: Somewhere outside
warnings: Alcohol, drugs, animal sacrifice, blood play, rough foreplay, sex. Will update if necessary.



The Yule celebration has gotten underway on the Winter Solstice and it promises to be a most interesting night. The Norse have gone all out with this affair to make sure it's going to be a success. First thing to be spotted is a bonfire, so big that you might want to be careful not to trip around it, because you'll fall right in. There's plenty of room for dancing too, if you feel like grooving to a beat that's a little more unusual than most.

The Yule celebration shares a lot of similarities with Christmas, so it's a good time for gift giving. There's little shoes on a table, mimicking the tradition where Odin would leave presents for good children by putting them in their shoes. Claim one as your own and maybe a friend will leave a gift inside one for you. Watch it though. Any grinches will be fed to the Yule Cat.

There's a table set up to the right of the bonfire with food, mostly of the hearty kind that the Norse seem to prefer, and of course, lots of alcohol. Please remember not to get into any drinking contests with the gods. They will observe no responsibility for what happens afterward.

There are also mushrooms for consumption, provided by everyone's favorite psychotic Viking, Ivar The Boneless. These ones are directly from his home world, which means they come with a variety of side effects. They have the ability to make a person hallucinate quite a bit. But they can also make people much more horny than usual. Lastly, there's the effect that hits some people in making them extremely violent. Sometimes one effect hits, sometimes more than one. In any case, anyone who consumes some is assured to have an...interesting time.

On a lighter note, there's mistletoe scattered around, hung from the trees and tent beams. Fun fact: the Vikings were the first one to use it for the tradition of kissing. Of course, they also believed it was a plant that was powerful enough to kill a god, so the kissing was ostensibly for protection.

At the height of the night, there will be an animal sacrifice done. A goat is slaughtered and the blood from it is gathered into a couple of bowls. If you'd really like to go all out like a Viking, paint your face in the still-warm blood, or drink a little bit of it. Otherwise, enjoy freshly seared chunks of goat as it bastes over the bonfire.

Have fun, drink, fight, and remember to make your ancestors proud!

Comments

[northerndragon]

[He sees her taking some of the cheese, and looks even more pleased.]

They had me try different cheeses in the shop, because I didn't know the name of what I wanted. I chose one that reminded me of the cheese we had at Winterfell before I went to the Wall.

["Do you like it?" is implicit in that, but he doesn't actually ask her. There are places where their tastes are different, and places where they converge, and he suspects it would take him a while to get used to the food in Essos. He knows that some of his favorite Westerosi foods are still a little bit unusual to her palate.]

We ate a lot of blood sausage at the Wall, and onion stew, and the Free Folk favor fermented goat's milk. It's not so different. If you're riding all day or you're out in the cold, you need hearty fare.

[jelmazmo]

( The look on his face has her heart doing backflips in her chest, and she takes a bite, tiny and delicate with a nip of her teeth. Its taste is different, more nutty and sharp and sweet all at once on her tongue than she's ever been used to. When she's swallowed it, she smiles back at him. )

The fare seems very rich at Winterfell; I like it very much.

( Yes, she does; and she'll follow that up with crumbling some over a piece of goat meat, tender and savoury; and then consuming it in short order. No hesitation in her now, likely to his amusement. )

Indeed. There were times—where we had less, and sometimes had to eat less desirable things. Both before and during my time with the Dothraki.

[northerndragon]

[And now he has some goat, and tries a bite of it big enough that no one would know he was only trying it if they hadn't seen him arrive. It's a little like beef, a little like mutton, and quite good, sacrifice or not.]

I used to wheedle cakes out of Gage when I was a boy. But he's not there now. [Because the Boltons or the Ironborn killed him: Jon isn't sure which.] Still, the cook who is there is quite as good. I don't know where my sister found her.

[His tone changes, becomes contemplative.]

I know I thought I had it very hard when I was young. But I had a family, and we had a cook. I didn't think then that it was more than most people had... more than a princess might have, even. What was your favorite thing, among the Dothraki, or before that?

[It's a feast, and he doesn't want her to think of eating rats or dogs if she'd rather think of something else.]

[jelmazmo]

( Nearby, there's a place where they might sit, and she nods toward it before heading in that direction herself. Once they're ensconced, she tips her head, regarding him thoughtfully between bites of goat and cheese. She takes a long draught of the mead he's brought, and sighs, obviously content with the taste. )

What sort of cakes? I'll learn how to make them for you. ( She's completely serious, and softens her expression. ) Then she did well. All of you have had to live in one form of exile or another for some years now; it's a difficult thing.

( And the rest of their country had been too busy fighting among themselves for the sake of a chair to see what had happened and lend aid. Jon's family had been innocent, she knows now. It hadn't been a truth she'd known while Viserys had been alive. Someone should have done something. She would have, had she been able to sail sooner.

They're all just children really, Olenna had said, and she hadn't been at all wrong. )

The sea, ( She says, quietly. ) I loved and hated it; hated, because it separated me from home. Loved, because it made me feel free. And the stories the sailors told! I became fond of the songs and tales after that. But also—sometimes, the Western market in Vaes Dothrak would smell like spices they use for cooking in the Free Cities. I'd think it smelled 'like home.'

[northerndragon]

Oh, oatcakes, [he chuckles]. They had little bits of dried fruit, apple and orange, or sometimes they had blackberries... don't think those were dried.

Does anything here in Riverview smell like that? I've had things that are almost the same, but never quite. I don't know if it's how they grew, or what they were fed on... well, meat is about the same, all those chickens we were having.

[Sometimes it feels like they've eaten every damn chicken in the Quarantine.]

But the sea... do you know, when I came down to you at Dragonstone, that was only the second time I'd ever sailed? The first time was up to Hardhome from Eastwatch.

[And that, again, is something that prompts a contemplative moment.]

I'm sorry. It was the first time I saw him. Never mind that.

On Dragonstone, I liked to look out at the sea. I'd never had the chance before, and it was warmer than where I'd come from. I hadn't been anywhere that warm since I was seventeen.

What I mean is that the sea brought us to each other.

[Notably, it had not been warm... but it had been comfortably chilly, instead of bitterly cold.]

[jelmazmo]

I'll learn. I think I can make eggs and bacon now, and stew. ( No more chickens for them, she means; though his jest about them makes her laugh. Now she knows what fruit he'll like; not only her own preference. ) Mm. Again, sometimes while we're at the market.

That settles the matter then, doesn't it? No more chicken, at least not every night. I'll learn to make approximations of what I grew up eating in Essos. And maybe you and I can work together on things you were fond of as a boy at Winterfell.

( It will bring them closer, if that's possible. She thinks it is; she's still learning things about him, and learning to reveal more to him in turn about her life. )

I didn't— ( Ah. Her expression fluctuates, her feelings on that abomination briefly clashing sharply with the otherwise good humour they foster together now. After taking a deep breath, she swallows the anger mention of him evokes in her. ) Hush. I'd still like to hear of that journey, what came before. Your time at the Wall.

I believe it did, too. Sometimes I would catch sight of you and watch when i thought you weren't looking. You are as beautiful a view as the sea.

( To her, they're inextricably linked. ) If I'd known someone like you existed in Westeros, I'd have been sorely tempted to sail sooner.

( Not play at being Queen in Meereen. Though doing so taught her much, and she ultimately has no regrets. )

[northerndragon]

[He nods amiably about the cooking -- something for them both to look forward to, and he'll find a way to repay her, too -- but when she says she wants to hear more about his time at the Wall, his expression becomes more complicated.]

I'm not sure you'll like my stories of my time at the Wall. I don't mind telling you, but I don't think you'll get any joy of them.

It's better in one way that you didn't sail sooner. I would have been stuck there. I wouldn't have been able to watch you on Dragonstone the way you watched me. -- I did, you know. Used to stand there wishing I would never have to stop.

[jelmazmo]

Maybe not. ( Her hand finds his, fingers threading with his. ) But your time there helped shape who you are. I would hear it.

There's little joy to be found in the events of my life either. But I'll relate them to you.

( So that he's not at all the only one of them putting himself out there. Her hand squeezes his, and a hot flush rises from her collarbone all the way into her cheeks. )

Somehow, I believe our paths would have crossed one way or another. I've never felt like this. Even that first day, I was drawn to you in a way I've never been to anyone. And you don't have to stop watching me here, nor I you. Here—

( She tugs him toward the fire, toward the throng. ) Dance with me.

[northerndragon]

[He lets her pull him towards the fire.

He's never danced much, and it's been quite a while, but it's clear they won't have to work hard to acquit themselves well here.]

All right, I'll tell you a story of the Wall. The food was what we could get -- what the Northern Lords could send to us and what we could put together ourselves. And it was usually terrible. We had a cook who did what he can, and the Lord Commander's food is usually better, but still... Your first stew was much better than the average day's ration.

[He chuckles.]

And I could watch you cook it all day.

[jelmazmo]

( No, they really won't. She's never learned the proper styles of Westerosi dancing; but she's certainly spent years observing the lack of inhibition and attention to rhtyhm among the Dothraki dancers.

And these here are lacking in both. Comparatively, Dany feels much more confident. )

Were you still growing when you were first there? Your friends? ( She knows that struggle, truly. Her nose wrinkles, and she smiles at him. ) There's going to be further attempts. We had to worry where our next meal would come from often when I was a girl. Unless we were guests at some magister or lord or other's manse.

Neither of us are ever going to have to worry about that again.

( She moves to the beat of the drums, more gracefully than she'd have expected herself to. Over her shoulder, she grins at him. )

Would anything be cooked if I were watching you watching me? I never tire of looking at you.

[northerndragon]

I was seventeen, a man grown.

[He moves, surprisingly graceful for a man who would ordinarily prefer not to dance. But he's lithe, good with a sword, and it's not so different.]

Except for my beard. That took a while to come in.

[He knows she faced significant privation as a young girl, and it troubles him, and the truth is, there's a chance they will have to worry about it again... at home, in winter, or here, if Riverview ever suffers from famine or disease. This is a night for celebration, though, so he doesn't mention it.]

Nothing would be cooked if we were watching each other. That's why we've been eating so much chicken, love.

But with us always determined to feed each other, we might get by.

[He means that in the larger sense, as well as the more specific one related to this line of conversation.]

[jelmazmo]

I would've been sixteen then, just learning to ride a horse. Every part of me was sore for weeks from that.

( This is far too pleasant an occasion to mention being sold, or the rape that had comprised her wedding night. Or the better part of her marriage.

Instead, she gracefully comes back to him, tugging at his hand to follow her. )

Worth waiting for, though. I like your beard.

( When they've drawn closer to each other, she brushes the tip of her nose against it, sighing deeply. She doesn't mention a lack of food either. )

Mm, that's more than true enough. But I've been growing tired of it; I'll need to prepare meals in advance, then.

If we want to have the energy to keep watching each other and more, we'll find a way.

( Necessity being the motivation for invention, along with its mother. )