Happy New Year! [Closed]

Prydania

Það er alltaf sólríkt í Býkonsviði
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Pronouns
He/His/Him
TNP Nation
Prydania
Discord
lordgigaice
31 December 2020
06:25 pm
On a Thursday
Saintes, Saintonge


“It’s a little early for the wine, don’t you think pabbi?” Addý asked her father teasingly as she helped set the table.

“Pftt,” Kvasir Öxndal replied as he took a sip, and set the glass down at the head of the table.
“It’s a holiday.”

“Addý, be nice to your father,” Odda called from the kitchen as she checked on the cod.

“Sorry pabbi,” she said with a smile, kissing her father on the cheek as he smiled and sat down to turn on the tv. The coverage of the New Year’s festivities wouldn’t get worthwhile for a few hours, but there was always a good movie on.

“Oh, check on the porcelain, will you?” Odda asked, switching her attention from the cod to the steiktsvínakjöt*.

“Right away Mamma,” Addý replied, though her mind was on more than just porcelain or the food. She was thinking about Thorbjörn. Addý had invited him to the Öxndals for New Year’s, on her own! She hadn’t even cleared it with her mother! She was mostly following her cousin Rúrik’s advice. Her parents, however, had been more than welcoming to the idea.

It made sense in many ways. The Höjsleth siblings and the Öxndals actually knew each other from back in Prydania, and had come to Saintes within a year of each other. They had even been rescued in the same diplomatic van. Thorbjörn spending New Year’s with the Öxndals wasn’t a crazy notion...but that wasn’t why Addý had invited Thorbjörn. She was, after all, following Rúrik’s advice. To pursue her feelings for him. Her parents didn’t know that. Her brother and her sister-in-law didn’t know that. Still though. That’s why she’d done it. And she wondered if Thorbjörn maybe knew it?

Suddenly a knock at the door! It startled her a bit as she was thinking about what she would do when Thorbjörn arrived.

“Addý, get that will you?”

“Yes Mamma!” Addý called back.
“Bro! Nicole!” she said happily as she went to hug her brother Markthór and her sister-in-law Nicole. They alternated between families. Nicole’s family had gotten them last year. This year they got them.

“Hey sis!” Markthór replied, holding a plastic grocery bag.
“Where should I put this? We brought pie!”

Addý looked at her brother as she finished embracing her sister-in-law.
“Mamma is in the kitchen, she’ll tell you what to do with it. It’s...it’s not cherry is it?”

“No,” Nichole laughed.
“I wouldn’t let him do that again.”

“No one lets me have my favourite pie,” Markthór grumbled in faux-outrage as he discarded his winter coat and made his way into the house. Nicole and Addý could hear him greet everyone.

“Hey, need any help with...whatever you’re up doing?” Nicole asked.

“No, it’s ok” Addý replied with a smile.
“It’s nothing. I just have to make sure the porcelain is all ready for tonight. It’s not much. Go on back, I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Oh the porcelain thing! How fun!” Nicole replied before heading back. Addý smiled slightly. It was a Prydanian tradition. You were supposed to take all the chipped porcelain cups and plates from the past year, and you bashed them on the front doors of your friends. It was actually considered a good thing on New Year’s Day if you opened your front door to find lots of shattered porcelain; it meant you had a lot of friends.

So Addý made her way to the small den by the front door. The chipped porcelain from the past year was arranged on a table. It actually wasn’t much- Odda Öxndal only took it out for the rarest of occasions. Which meant less opportunities for it to chip. Just two plates and two cups. She looked around a moment. There wasn’t anyone in this part of the house. She smiled and took a chipped cup and pulled out a handkerchief. She tied it around the cup like a sack, and smashed it as quietly as she could. She winced as she wondered if someone heard that....and no one seemed to. She breathed a sigh of relief and held up the tied handkerchief, containing bits of porcelain. She found her purse by the front door and slipped it in. She had plans for that. Plans that made her heart flutter.

“All the porcelain’s set Mamma,” she said as she walked back into the family room, and then the kitchen. She found her mother and Nichole tending to the cod and steiktsvínakjöt.
“Good, make sure the kransekage* isn’t burning, will you?” Odda said.

“No, they look fine. You could stand to leave them in the over for another ten minutes or so.”

“Good, good,” Odda replied.
“It’s not New Year’s without kransekage.”

“Is there anything else we can do, Odda?” Nichole asked.

“No, no. Everything seems fine. You two should join the boys out there. Relax.”

“If anyone needs to relax, Mamma, it’s you,” Addý replied with a smile.

“Trust me I’ll have time to relax on my own terms. Go, go. The both of you,” she said with a smile.

Addý and Nichole made their way to the living room. Kvasir and Markthór were watching chess.
Pabbi’s choice, Addý thought to herself. Kvasir wasn’t a chess player himself, but he’d taken to watching it since the family had come to Saintes. He said he found it comforting.

“Did you see King Tobias’ speech?” Markthór asked as Addý and Nichole sat down on the second couch. That was another Prydanian tradition back home. The Prydanian monarch gave a New Year’s address at six o’clock pm every year. It was a tradition that went back aways, and had come back after the Civil War. Of course Prydania was two hours ahead of Saintonge. So that had happened nearly two and a half hours ago.

“Yes” Kvasir replied. “Did you?” he asked his son.

“I caught the end of it. It seemed nice though.”

“He’s a good young man, I think,” Kvasir nodded before pointing to the tv.
“This guy’s getting too aggressive.”

Markthór sighed. He actually played chess recreationally, unlike his father. And yet he found watching it dreadfully boring.
“Yeah he probably is...but pabbi, there’s gotta be an action movie on?”

“We JUST watched one the other night,” Nicole chuckled as she lightly slapped her husband on the arm.
“Let your father watch chess.”

Kvasir chuckled and looked over to his daughter.
“What do you think?” he asked.

Addý smiled. She was the youngest, but had always been the best shot when she was a little girl in Prydania. And her trouble learning Santonian upon arriving in Saintes meant her father had grown extra protective of her. She was equal parts his little girl who could kick butt and his daughter he had to protect.
“I don’t know pabbi. Mark looks like he’s going to melt into the couch if you don’t find something with an explosion soon.”

Markthór gave his sister an exaggerated eye roll before Addý looked over at the kitchen. The smells from the various foods were getting stronger. Dinner would be ready soon. She smiled a bit, but felt a tinge of nerves as her heart began to race. Thorbjörn would be arriving past midnight. It was hours away… and yet she couldn’t stop thinking about it. God she was a hopeless romantic.
“Hey, it’s too late now, he’s coming over,” she told herself. Indeed. Now all she had to do was force herself to follow her cousin’s advice all the way through.



*steiktsvínakjöt= a Prydanian dish, crispy fried pork belly
*kransekage= a buttery ring-shaped cake, a Prydanian New Year’s tradition
 
31 December 2020
11:55 pm
On a Thursday
Saintes, Saintonge


Thorbjörn Höjsleth walked up the tidy two-lane tree-lined street, trying to find the address. 1448 Rue de Plaqueminier.

Thorbjörn was in unfamiliar territory. He lived two arrondissements over, in the fifteenth. He was in the genteel part of the left-bank thirteenth arrondissement, in the borough of Châteauroux. This neighbourhood called Saint-Tobie was way different from his home in Caulaincourt. Where Thorbjörn came from, in Caulaincourt, majority of the dwellings were composed of government-built complexes of low-rise apartment buildings and townhouse-style council houses for the lower-middle classes, the lower classes, and the refugees like them.

Saint-Tobie, on the other hand, had more greenery, more parks, and larger houses. The houses in this neighbourhood were composed of detached houses with small gardens or lawns. Some shared driveways, but many had their own small plots of greenery. This was probably a better-off part of the arrondissement. He didn’t know the Öxndals were this well-off.

At least the chances of him being recognised are lower than in Caulaincourt. Saint-Tobie and Châteauroux are in a different National Assembly district, and these people were not his constituents. Still, Thorbjörn wondered whether there were a lot of Prydanians like the Öxndals in this area. It would be very fitting if there were. The district was named after the neighbourhood’s small parish church whose patron saint was Saint Tobias I of Prydania. He knew because he passed by the church, which was directly opposite the métro station of the same name. Thorbjörn had to take the subway - he had no car.

The amount of walking he had to do meant that many of the people in this neighborhood probably had cars. After alighting from the subway and three bus stops, he found himself on the street where Öxndals lived.

Thorbjörn put on his red-and-white varsity jacket from the school he used to teach in. It was cold, but not Prydanian-levels of cold. He would need more covering to keep warm if he was in Prydania. His white-and-red varsity jacket matched with the red-and-white plaid long-sleeved button-down shirt he was wearing. Underneath that was a white-and-red ringer T-shirt. A lot of red and white. Prydanian tradition states that red and white is a lucky colour combination that one should wear for the New Year. Lucky red and white, just like the flag of Prydania.

Thorbjörn was here because Addý Öxndal invited him to be the ‘first-foot’ in their house for the New Year. It was another Prydanian tradition, the Santonians don’t have it. In Prydania, the first person to enter the home of a household on New Year's Day was seen as a bringer of good fortune for the coming year. Prydanians preferred fair-skinned blond-haired men to be the first-foot into their houses; it was believed that they brought more luck. That was why his blond-haired National Assembly friend Brice-Kentigern Ardisson, despite being a Santonian, had been invited multiple times by many of his constituents to be the first-foot in their houses. Brice-Kentigern’s district neighboured Thorbjörn’s and also had a lot of people of Prydanian descent. So during New Year’s, Brice-Kentigern had an increasingly-lengthening list of houses to drop by at the stroke of midnight. Brice-Kentigern must’ve been very good in bringing luck - because if the household deems the previous year to be good, they will invite the same ‘first-foot’ to their house again for the next year.

Thorbjörn wondered why Addý selected him to be the ‘first-foot’ in their house. He wasn’t blond-haired, he had chestnut hair. He won’t be that as good as a bringer of luck than a blond guy. That was why the Prydanian Thorbjörn gets less invites than the Santonian Brice-Kentigern.

That was another thing - one could not refuse the invite; refusal was considered to be an extremely unlucky thing to do. In central Prydania, where Thorbjörn came from, if someone refused the invite to be the ‘first-foot’ in somebody else’s house, all of that year’s bad luck that was supposed to come to that household will instead go to the person who refused the invite. So people wouldn’t dare refuse an invite.

Not that he would decline it. Thorbjörn was either going to be alone or be a hangers-on to other people’s New Year celebrations. The Höjsleths had spent Christmas together - the first since he was released from the hospital after his stabbing. Now his sisters would be celebrating with their guys. His older sister Kristin was with her fiancé and his family for New Year’s; and his oldest sister Gudrún was with her husband’s. Thorbjörn was very much free to attend others’ celebrations.

Fireworks started to light up the Saintes night. Thorbjörn looked up and saw the display that was probably being launched from the Île de la Cité as part of the Santonian New Year’s revelry. He looked at his watch. It was now midnight - 2021 had started.

Many Santonians were now probably gathered at the Île de la Cité for the New Year’s Eve Mass and the King’s and the Pope’s New Year addresses. Thorbjörn chuckled. The Santonians had less clunky New Year’s traditions. The Prydanians had men shuffling between houses, wearing the flag colours, and breaking porcelain.

The sight of the broken plates and cups at the front door actually clued Thorbjörn to the house he was looking for. Must be a Prydanian household. He then checked the house number. 1448. This was the Öxndal house.

He checked his bag of gifts to ensure he had everything in there. According to tradition, the ‘first-foot’ should bring ‘lucky gifts’ to the household. The list of ‘lucky gifts’ was quirky and extensive - it could be coal, coins, saffron buns, books, alcohol (though Santonian wine was not acceptable), cheese (Santonian cheese is acceptable), or that certain Santonian tonic drink called Adaptogène (and only that brand). Thorbjörn suspected that the last two were local takes on the Prydanian tradition, an influence the Prydanians took from their adopted country. That Santonian wine is forbidden was kind of amusing. Thorbjörn brought brennivín - he never liked the strong stuff, but his hosts might like it. Together with it, Thorbjörn brought a lump of coal, saffron buns from his favourite Caulaincourt Prydanian bakery, a ten-livre commemorative gold coin, two wheels of Coulommiers cheese, a bottle of Adaptogène, and the book Von fyrir Prydansk by Helle-Steinbjörg Grönlund. He brought seven gifts. Just to cover all the bases.

The broken porcelain crunched beneath Thorbjörn’s boots as he stood in front of the Öxndals’ front door. He was about to knock when he remembered that Gudrún gave him a chipped porcelain plate to smash at the front door. Thorbjörn took it out of his bag and banged it against the front door, shattering it into pieces. It was going to be his doorbell.



Von fyrir Prydansk = "Hope for Prydania"
 
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1 January 2021
12:01 am
On a Friday
Saintes, Saintonge


The Öxndals had spent the evening earlier conversing with their relatives back in Prydania. Rúrik, Víf, Júlíeta, and little Týr had called them up around 9:55 pm Saintes time. Prydania was two hours ahead, and so it was the perfect way to celebrate as one huge family, before the Saintes-located Öxndals ushered in their own New Year’s in two hours.

“I’m going to strangle Rúrik for having such a cute kid” Markthór sighed as he and Addý were alone in the kitchen.

Addý chuckled. She knew Nichole had wanted to start a family, and seeing their cousin’s son when they visited Prydania back in November had only raised the issue again.

“I really don't know why you're worried,” Addý shrugged.
“You both make good money. You could totally raise a kid.”

“I'm on the road too much,” Markthór replied with a shake of his head.

“Pfft” Addý replied.
“Basketball season isn't year round. And you won't be playing forever. You’ll have plenty of time to be an awesome dad.”

“You think I’d be an awesome dad?” Markthór asked, sounding genuinely touched to hear that from his sister.

I know you will be, bro” she said with a smile, before hearing her father in the other room.
“Right now though, you need to save Nichole from Pabbi’s jokes.”

“Oh man, yeah” Markthór chuckled as he made his way back into the family room.

Addý finished up in the kitchen. She had insisted her mother take a break and had turned down the offer of help from Nichole. She got along very well with her sister-in-law but she wanted some quiet, to help with her nerves. She had finished up her tasks at hand just as the countdown began…

“Dix…
neuf…
huit…
sept…
six…
cinq…
quatre…
trois…
deux…
un…
bonne année!”


The tv exclaimed the new year as they all hugged each other as fireworks went off and revelry filled the air. Addý smiled but kept an ear out and casually made her way to a short hallway that led to the family room from the front doorway...and then she heard it. It was a soft smash of porcelain! It could be any Prydanian friend of theirs but given what time it was…

She rushed to the door, opening it as a stray firework went off in the distance.

“Thorbjörn!” she exclaimed as she opened the door, smiling wide enough to challenge the fireworks for radiance.

“Gleðilegt nýtt ár!” Thorbjörn greeted, with a big smile on his face. “May the new year bring good luck and prosperity to his household!” He uttered the traditional greeting announced by first-footers. He then stepped into the Öxndal house. “There. I am the first foot in this house. I hope I brought enough luck.”

“You coming is enough luck for us,” Addý commented obliquely, giving Thorbjörn a hug. “Thank you for coming.” Addý realised what she did and broke off the embrace. She blushed a bit. “I… uh.. Come in!”

By this time, the rest of the Öxndals were also at the door to greet their visitor. “I’m glad you could make it, Thorbjörn,” Kvasir Öxndal remarked. “We are honoured to have a deputy of the Santonian National Assembly in this house!”

It was Thorbjörn’s turn to blush. “Aw, Uncle Kvasir… I’m always happy to see you and your family. Thank you for the opportunity to spend the New Year’s here.” He remembered the gifts. He took out the basket of New Year’s gifts from his tote bag and handed it to them. The basket was wrapped in clear red plastic, held in place by a bow made of red and white ribbons. “And as your first-footer, I brought lucky gifts for you and your family!”

Odda Öxndal took the gift basket. “Oh, Thorbjörn, thank you, this is so sweet…” She peered at the contents of the basket. “And a lot of them too!” She passed the basket to her daughter-in-law.

“Random stuff in here,” Nichole chuckled.

“Those are traditional Prydanian New Year’s gifts that could be brought in by first-footers,” Odda explained. “Usually they bring just one, but Thorbjörn brought a lot.”

“I figured why restrict ourselves to just one when I could bring them all?” Thorbjörn replied.

“They have meaning as well,” Odda continued her explanation. This was the first time the Öxndals had a first-foot in their house in some time, they stopped that tradition a long time ago. They only re-started it now because Addý wanted it. So Markthór and Addý were not familiar with the gifting traditions.

“Yes,” Thorbjörn pointed to each of the contents of the basket. “Coal represents warmth and love for the upcoming year. The coin for wealth; the book for knowledge. The bread is for food; cheese is for the comforts of life. The tonic is for good health for the new year. The alcohol represents joy and happiness.”

“Looks like you did research,” Markthór joked.

“Of course,” Thorbjörn grinned. “I don’t want to bring the wrong gifts or the unlucky gifts.”

“Anyway,” Odda interrupted the discussion, “the cold wind is blowing in. Thorbjörn, come join us in the New Year’s meal!”
 
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Markthór followed his family and Thorbjörn back in, hanging back.

He had nothing against Thorbjörn- he always got along with him well enough. And he wouldn't have even seen anything odd with him spending the New Year's with his family.
What was making him curious was the first footer tradition. He had memories of his family doing it back in Prydania. And even for a few years after they came to Saintes but that had stopped. Just one of those things that faded away. Then Addý had asked about doing it this year- with Thorbjörn.

It could have just been a bit of fun to incorporate him into the family's celebrations but...it just caught his eye was all.

"Hey honey" he said to Nicole as they stood in the hallway between the front door and the living room, "has Addý mentioned anything about New Year's?"

"Umm..." Nicole thought.
"Well we've mostly been coordinating on what to bring, so nothing odd but she's seemed nervous about it. More than usual. Why do you ask?"

"Nothing, nothing, just curious" he said with a grin.

The two emerged back into the living room and made their way to the dinner table where everyone was getting seated, the tv in the background showing the celebration in downtown Saintes with the volume lowered.

Addý had slipped the handkerchief full of the remnants of smashed porcelain out of her purse and placed it on her thigh as she took a seat next to Thorbjörn. She went to speak, but nerves caught her. Instead it was Nichole who broke the silence as Kvasir and Odda went into the kitchen.

"So Thorbjörn, what's it like serving in the National Assembly? You're the first politician I've ever actually met!"

"Hehe" Thorbjörn chucked nervously.
"It's not really glamorous, and you're always bound to make at least a few passionate people angry, even if you stand by your ideals."

Nicole nodded, not wanting to press on to see if that was a reference to his stabbing. He was out, seemingly in good shape, and this should be a celebratory time. No need to bring that up.

"Well you've stood up for what you believe and no one can take that from you" Addý replied.
"I think that's special."

"Curiouser and curiouser" Markthór thought, observing his sister.

"Thank you" Thorbjörn replied with a warm smile.
"So..." he added, wanting to change the subject from his job, "what are you working on at CP Publishing?"

"I'm working on something my bro would like actually, a visual guide to sports."

"Did you get a picture of me for the basketball section?" Markthór asked.

"No, I'm sorry" Addý replied with faux pity as she teased her brother.
"They're using stock images. No royalties."

"Basketball is going well then?" Thorbjörn asked.

"Still playing" Markthór replied with a smile.
"And not slowing down yet! In fact I just signed a new contract."

"Yeah I saw something about that" Thorbjörn replied, "a no-something clause?"

"No trade clause" Markthór nodded.
"ARS Saintes can't trade me unless I agree to it. It's a huge relief. I now know I won't be shipped across the country over night. I'm settled."

"Yep" Nichole added.
"Settled. Stable."

Addý chuckled. She really was pushing for a kid. It also made her remember her cousin Rúrik. And what he'd said. He'd just...asked a girl he liked out. They had a family now. And if he could do that after all he'd been through then...

"So Thorbjörn. I think you'd really be into a side project I'm working on. Hopefully I'll be able to dedicate more time to it when the sports book is finished."

"What is it?" Thorbjörn asked, sounding excited. That was encouraging to Addý's ears.

"A book on heraldry from all over. Royal houses from all over the world down to local family crests from...God...it's go to to be all of Northern Meterra, Gothis, and Craviter at least. And that's just for the hyper detailed stuff. It's very extensive."

"That's really cool!" Thorbjörn replied. He'd always found that stuff fascinating. And if he had a book on it- one his friend worked on no less- then...

"Happy New Year...again!" Kvasir joked as he and Odda emerged from the kitchen. Kvasir was holding a plate of steiktsvínakjöt while Odda was bringing in the cod.

"I've always wondered why it's a Prydanian tradition to eat cod on New Year's?" Nichole asked.

"You and me both" Markthór replied.
"I guess it's to remind us to start the New Year off right with a steak the next day!"

"That's why your mother made steiktsvínakjöt too," Kvasir said in a no-nonsense tone, causing Addý and Thorbjörn to exchange smiles.

"I was never good at saying grace" Kvasir said as he and Odda took their seats.
"My brother was always better at that than I was. So I'll just say thank you God, for delivering us all safely to a new year in good health, and a thank you for Thorbjörn as our first foot. So let's get to it! I haven't eaten all day!"

Thorbjörn and Addý picked up their conversation about the heraldry book, which turned into a discussion about history...which evolved into a discussion about literature.

"How have you not read Painting the Fog?" Addý asked with a friendly smile.
"It's a classic!"

"That's the problem" Thorbjörn replied.
"Everyone was telling me 'oh you should read this!' I just decided not to!"

"So you're a literary rebel?" Addý asked as she leaned on her elbow just a bit.

"Maybe" Thorbjörn replied. He was smiling, but he was also feeling a bit nervous. Was she flirting with him? He could never tell...and what if he tried to reciprocate and was wrong?

"Well I'm getting you a copy for your birthday" Addý replied.
"Then you'll have to read it because you never know when I'll ask you 'hey how are you liking Painting the Fog?'"

"Drat, that sounds like the perfect plan" Thorbjörn replied before crunching down on a piece of steiktsvínakjöt.

Fireworks could still be heard when dinner was wrapping up.

"I have an idea" Kvasir said, getting up.
"Let's have the kransekage on the couches. The windows over there will give us a great view of the fireworks."

Each person took a plate with a kransekage cake on it to the living room, rearranging a few couches and chairs so they could watch the fireworks from the windows.

Kvasir and Odda snuggled up, and Markthór was holding Nichole.

Addý had barely spent a moment sitting down when she stood.
"Hey, I'm just going to put some dishes away. Thorbjörn could you help me?"

"Um sure" he replied. He was about to offer his assistance anyway. It was polite and maybe he could get a better read on Addý?

The two picked up some plates and entered the kitchen. Thorbjörn had just set the plates down in the sink when he heard Addý behind him.

"Hey Thorbjörn?"

He turned, seeing her with a tied up handkerchief containing something in her hand.

"Happy New Year" she said, her voice shaking as she handed it to him...
 
It felt like a pressure cooker. The entire dinner after Thorbjörn had arrived. Addý had found herself a bundle of nerves. It was cruel. If Thorbjörn had just been a guest she’d have been able to converse with him without a problem. Liking him though? That made her nervous. And the plan she had...that made it almost impossible. It felt like just talking about anything was a struggle when, if she didn’t have these feelings, it would have been easy. She was an outgoing sort. Conversation wasn’t supposed to be difficult for her! And yet here it was.

“Damnit, Rúrik,” she thought to yourself.
“You had to go convince me I could do this.”

She considered not doing it though. Sure, she’d talked herself into it. Sure, she’d crushed that porcelain cup. Thorbjörn didn’t know any of that though! She could just give in to her nervousness, her fear, and just not do what she was planning. That thought, though it was causing a hole to open in her stomach, was comforting. And then…

“No,” she told herself. It was when Thorbjörn chuckled at her joke about getting him a copy of Painting the Fog. Something about the way he chuckled. It just made her smile. And so she felt like she was in a pressure cooker again. Only now...now she knew what to do. Focus. That’s all. Focus on what she’d told herself she would do.

Asking Thorbjörn to help with the dishes was the key. To get him alone, just the two of them. And it felt like her jaw wanted to be melded shut as she asked the words. Her heart raced when he said yes, because now… well she’d have to do it now. It was now or never. Doubt, fear, anxiety… it all swam in her head, in her stomach, until a moment of clarity. She could do it. Just one act. That’s all it would take. The previous white noise in her head was still there, but pushed to the back of her skull in this moment of clarity.

Thorbjörn set some plates down in the sink, and Addý did it.

“Hey Thorbjörn?”

He turned, seeing her with a tied up handkerchief in her hand.

"Happy New Year," she said, her voice shaking as she handed it to him. Her heart was pounding. This was it.

Thorbjörn looked a bit surprised.
“What’s this?” he said as he took the handkerchief and began to untie it. The shattered remains of a porcelain cup were inside. Addý looked on nervously. And then…

“What’s this?” Thorbjörn asked again. He knew of the Prydanian tradition of breaking chipped porcelain on the doorsteps of your friends, but it was never given as a gift.

Addý felt her insides...freeze? Was that the right word? It was hard to tell. It wasn’t relief and elation, or the crushing sadness of a broken heart. Her nerves, her feelings, just sort of froze.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“Why’d you give me a smashed cup? Are we washing this too?” Thorbjörn asked with a chuckle, before he thought he clued in. She must have meant to smash it on his front door, but since she couldn’t make it she was giving it to him!
“Oh! I get it. Well you could have gone to my place if you wanted to sma…”

“It’s because I like you,” Addý said, almost blurting it out. Indeed, she was so nervous she switched between Santonian and Prydanian involuntarily. C'est parce que að mér líkar við þig.

Thorbjörn felt his heart pound. He felt like it was just the two of them. Like they were both just… here. In this space. And this space was all there was. He didn’t even notice Addý switching between languages.

The two were around the same age. Just a year apart. He was near inconsolable when that Santonian van had picked them up. His brother was gone. His big brother… and there was this scared girl there too. The same one standing right across from him right now.

They’d played together at the diplomatic compound. Neither fully grasped what had happened to them or their families or the world around them, but they helped each other cope just through companionship, in the way children do; uncomplicated friendship.

What Addý had just said hit him because… he’d always felt the same way. Actually, he’d almost asked her out when they were both in university, when his older sister Kristin found out that Markthór and his family are in Saintes too. Fear had gripped him too tightly that day though, and he’d never approach being brave enough to ask again. And now here she was…

“You...you like me?” he asked softly, feeling his arms going a bit limp.

“I...I just told you that,” Addý replied with wide blue eyes as she felt her heart pounding in her chest. She had no idea what he’d say… the torture was waiting. Even a half a second… a half a second of not knowing of it was rejection or something much more was torturous.

“I’ve…” he gulped. Even saying it, now that he knew how she felt, it just seemed surreal.
“I feel the same way Addý.”

That fireworks were actually exploding in the background didn’t really matter to either. They were each in their own shared world. Quite possibly the same shared world they had when the two of them would comfort each other with play as children. Now, both returning to it, grown.

“Oh my God,” she said, a wave of relief washing over her.
“You… you do?”

“For a while,” Thorbjörn said with a nod.
“I’ve just…” he stopped mid sentence as Addý hugged him tight.

“Shhh,” she said softly.
“Later...we’ll talk later…”

Thorbjörn smiled meekly and nodded, his eyes filling with joyous tears as he held her. Fireworks exploded in the distance, but they could have been exploding a world away. He just kissed the top of her head, holding her back. Embracing each other in the earliest moments of 2021.




OOC Note: Thanks to @Kyle to helping me with some background info and wording!
 
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“I think…” Addý said softly as Thorbjörn held her, “that we should head back out there.” She had no idea how long they’d been hugging. She was just lost in this warm, happy, blissful feeling and didn’t know if they’d been holding each other for two minutes or ten.

“Um yeah,” Thorbjörn said with a nervous chuckle. It wasn’t just other people out there...it was Addý’s family. He began to blush as he asked a very important question.
“Do we go out there like...this...or do we wait to tell them?”

“It’s New Year’s,” Addý said with a soft smile before resting her head against his shoulder, “let’s just go out there. They can ask their millions of questions in the morning.”

“And if they ask them now?”

“Leave it up to me,” she said, kissing him on the lips. She took his hand, and began to lead him out of the kitchen.

Thorbjörn felt his heart begin to race now. He’d lost himself in the moment in the kitchen but now...God, it was her family! He just breathed deep. Addý, for all of her nerves, seemed confident. If she was...then he could be.

She led him to the opposite end of the couch where Nicole and Markthór were sitting, and sat down next to Thorbjörn, leaning into him. Thorbjörn smiled, nervously wrapping his arms around her before breathing deep and relaxing. She relaxed too, leaning her head against his chest. They sat there for a few moments as Nicole, Markthór, Kvasir, and Odda didn’t immediately notice. It was a brief few moments, but enough for both Addý and Thorbjörn to relax. And then…

“What’s this?” Nicole asked as he turned to her side seeing the two cuddled up together. She was a bit taken aback at first, if only because she wasn’t expecting it. Thorbjörn smiled softly and Addý just winked at her sister-in-law. Markthór turned though, and had a more animated reaction.

“Whow,” he said with his eyes going wide. Thorbjörn gulped. Markthór was a pro basketball player. He was tall, and strong. He didn’t think he’d get beaten up over this but...well...you never knew. Addý, however, just smiled at her brother.

“It’s New Year’s, Mark. Let’s talk about it tomorrow, ok?”

Markthór looked over at his sister, and then Thorbjörn, about to say something when his parents turned around.

“Talk about what?” Odda asked before seeing Thorbjörn and her daughter together.
“Oh...oh, since when did you two get together?”

“It um...just happened,” Thorbjörn said nervously, but felt his nerves relax a bit when Odda smiled.

“That’s lovely,” she remarked. Kvasir looked on, giving them a soft smile, even as he contemplated what he saw. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Thorbjörn but…

“I mean you two are just…” Markthór began.

“Yeah,” Thorbjörn replied, mustering a confident nod.

“Come on Mark, I said tomorrow,” Addý insisted.

“Yes, tomorrow,” Nicole interjected, “leave the love birds alone for tonight,” she added as she gave Addý a wink.

Thorbjörn’s hand gently squeezed Addý’s as they each bore the brunt of curious and inquisitive stares, but soon Odda was up and in the kitchen.

“Mamma we put the dishes away…” Addý called out from the couch, only for Odda to emerge with some plates wrapped in foil.

“For you, Thorbjörn. Some fish and kransekage, for later,” she said placing it all on a small table from the door.

“You really don’t have to…” Thorbjörn began before Odda waved him off. Markthór went for his phone as Nicole discreetly slapped it away.

The rest of the night was nice, quiet. Odda, Kvasir, Markthór, and Nicole respected the new couple’s wishes and didn’t press the matter. Even if they all desperately wanted to.
Markthór was shocked.
Nicole was pleasantly surprised and wanted to know where this came from.
Odda had always found Thorbjörn polite, bright, and well mannered and was ecstatic that her daughter was with him.
And Kvasir...Kvasir had things he wished to say, but wouldn’t ruin the night with them.

They all just sat, watching the fireworks.

“I bet you have the day off tomorrow...er, today,” Addý said softly.

“Yep, national holiday. Do you?” he asked.

“Yep,” Addý remarked.
“Look...I don’t wanna rush but...maybe we could go to either my place or your place? After we’re done here?”

“Why not here?” Kvasir replied, overhearing them. Addý blushed, deeply at that because it was, on the surface, a good suggestion. She didn’t have a car. Thorbjörn didn’t have a car.

“We have a spare room after all,” Kvasir added. Thorbjörn blushed himself, and Addý sighed.

“Thank you Pabbi, but we’re fine. I don’t think we want to put you and Mamma out.”

“We?” Kvasir replied with a raised eyebrow. He’d spent the last fifteen years building a life for himself and his family in Saintes, but deep down he was still a farmboy from central Prydania. With all of the conservative weariness that entailed.

“Yes, Pabbi,” Addý replied. Kvasir wasn’t sure how to react to this, honestly. His daughter had been difficult when it came to her past boyfriends. They never tended to stick around long. For the first time she seemed genuinely happy to be with someone. It wasn’t the teenaged puppy love or the rebelliousness that had defined past relationships of her’s. And Kvasir was at a bit of a loss for how to deal with it. It was Odda who stepped in.

“You won’t be putting anyone out…”

“Mamma…” Addý began to insist before her mother continued.

“But you’re both adults. Lord knows we can’t tell you what to do,” she said with a smile. Kvasir grunted a bit.

The two kept holding hands as everyone migrated to the front door. There was still a sense of awkwardness as people had stuff they wanted to say, but weren’t saying it. Odda insisted on giving Thorbjörn a hug though, as Markthór gave him a pat on the shoulder.

“I don’t wanna get into anything too deep,” Markthór began, before his wife playfully whacked his arm.

“Then don’t, and mind your business,” Nicole remarked.

“Heh,” Markthór chuckled.
“But you’re a good guy,” he said to Thorbjörn.

“Thanks, I...I appreciate that,” Thorbjörn said nervously.

Toutes nos félicitations*,” Nicole added to Addý, knowing they’d talk later.

“It was an honour to have a member of the National Assembly in my home,” Kvasir said as he shook Thorbjörn’s hand.
“And...well...I suppose we’ll all talk about this later,” he said with a smile.

Thorbjörn gulped and felt like he needed to say something here.
“I’m...I really do care for Addý and I want to do right by her,” he said.

Kvasir nodded and was about to reply when Addý interrupted.
“Leave him alone, Pabbi, you’ll all get your les potins* later.”

Everyone said their goodbyes as Markthór and Nicole and Addý and Thorbjörn each went off into the night of Saintes...and the new year.




Kvasir and Odda

“He’s a nice boy,” Odda remarked.
“Especially given Addý’s other boyfriends through the years. I hope it works out.”

“He is,” Kvasir nodded.
“And an upstanding member of the community. Bright, nice, smart, a good career ahead of him. I even hear he speaks with King Tobias in Prydania on occasion.”

“So why are you so down on him?” Odda asked, knowing her husband well enough to see what he really meant.

“It’s not him I have a problem with,” Kvasir replied.
“It’s the people who will hound him. And my lítilstúlka* if she’s with him.”

“Addý’s a grown woman,” Odda replied.
“She can make her own decisions. Now come, let’s get to bed.”

Kvasir nodded, his concerns not fully calmed.




Markthór and Nicole

“What are you doing?” Nicole asked as Markthór pulled out his phone.

“I’m doing what you wouldn’t let me down in the living room. I’m texting Rúrik about this! This is big news!”

Mon amour*, it’s two thirty in the morning in Prydania. He’s probably asleep.”

“Then he’ll see it in the morning!” Markthór replied eagerly as he hit “SEND.”

Nicole chuckled.
“I think you were going to give poor Thorbjörn a heart attack.”

“What?” Markthór asked.
“I’m not mad at him! He’s a good dude. I’m just surprised is all. I didn’t know Addý and him were into each other.”

“Yes, but you’re big and strong, and you’ve always scared off her potential boyfriends. Even back in high school. No one wanted to get beat up by you!”

“Hehe,” Markthór smirked.
“Well, what can I say? I didn’t mean to do that.”

“I know,” Nicole replied.
“But maybe give Thorbjörn a tour of the stadium? Let him know it’s all good.”

“He works for the government,” Markthór replied.
“He doesn’t need me to get him a tour of the stadium.”

“No, he doesn’t, but the gesture would be nice,” Nicole said with a smile.

“Yeah, it would,” Markthór conceded as he took his wife’s hand before wrapping his arm around her shoulder and holding her close as they walked home, down the street.




Addý and Thorbjörn

“So…” Thorbjörn said, as they walked in the opposite direction of Nicole and Markthór. They’d mostly done that for privacy.
“My place or your place?”

“Mamma gave you food,” Addý replied.
“And it would be terribly rude if you didn’t go back to your place immediately and put it in the fridge,” she added with a smile.

“My place isn’t as nice as this neighbourhood,” he said with a chuckle.

“I don’t care, because you’ll be there. That’s the important part,” Addý said with a smile.
“Besides, I grew up in Luzerne. I’m not some posh girl who will faint at the sight of an improperly trimmed hedgerow,” she said with a smirk.

“Alright,” Thorbjörn said with a grin.
“My place it is.” He felt nervous saying that. Like...to definitively say it was a big deal, and he could feel his heart pounding. Addý grinned, letting her fingers get entangled with his, as he waved down a cab. She leaned into Thorbjörn after they both got in. Smiling as he wrapped his arm around his shoulder.

He really didn’t know what he was doing. His heart was racing a mile a minute, but he was happy. And seeing her happy...it just made him braver as he tried to figure it all out. He gave his address and the cab started up.

Celebrations were still ongoing through the city. It was 2021 after all. What a way to start the New Year.




*Toutes nos félicitations- Congratulations
*les potins- gossip
*lítilstúlka- little girl
*Mon amour- My love

OOC Notes: Approved with permission of @Kyle, who also helped with some ideas
 
9 January 2021
4:19 pm
On a Saturday
Saintes, Saintonge


Kvasir turned off the television as his daughter arrived, walking into the kitchen.
"Can I get you anything?" he asked.
"No, I'm good pabbi," Addý replied as she sat down at the dinner table. She was unsure why her father had requested she come by. He wanted to speak to her, but said it he wanted to do it in person. She was worried...it must be serious. She was wondering if maybe he or her mother was sick? She sat eagerly as her father returned from the kitchen with a glass of water, sitting next to her.

"So what's up?" she said, blushing. That came off too eager. She didn't want to show her father any disrespect. Kvasir, however, didn't seem put out.

"I just wanted to talk," Kvasir replied with a smile.

"Well is everyone ok?" Addý asked, sounding worried.

"Everyone's fine," Kvasir said.
"Just fine and dandy."

"Fine and dandy?" Addý replied, chuckling softly.

"Yep," Kvasir replied.
"What I wanted to talk about though, was Thorbjörn."

Addý raised an eyebrow.
"What about my boyfriend?" she asked cautiously.

"Oh boyfriend," Kvasir replied.
"It's serious then."

"Umhm," Addý replied with an assured look.

"I'm worried," Kvasir replied.
"I don't want you to get into something you're not prepared for."

Addý rolled her eyes.
"I'm not a kid anymore, pabbi. I don't need your help with my dating life."

"This isn't about your dating life," Kvasir replied, his tone getting more serious.
"Thorbjörn's a politician and..."

"Thorbjörn is one of us," Addý said, interrupting her father.
"Almost literally. He's from home! Come on pabbi, you babysat him back in Kiojaleit!"

"Yes, and now he's a politician," Kvasir replied.
"A politician is bad enough. Getting dragged through the mud every election cycle? Are you willing to go through that? To have people poking into your life at every opportunity?"

"Yes," Addý replied rather insistently.

"Are you prepared to deal with the attention Thorbjörn will get though?" Kvasir asked.
"The Radical Party will make him a target. Every xenophobe in the country- thanks to social media- will come after him. Every name, insult, derogatory term."

"I don't care, pabbi," Addý replied.

"No, you do," Kvasir shot back.
"I've seen how active you are on Twitcher. You care."

Addý blushed, but didn't let it detour her.
"So what? Let angry people online say what they want. I won't let them decide who I love."

"And what about children?"

"You've already got me married with kids?" Addý asked.

"Well let's think about it," Kvasir replied.
"Say you two get married. Are you willing to let your children endure the attacks, the insults, that will get thrown at them?"

Addý blushed.
"Pabbi, please..."

"I mean it," Kvasir said. He didn't sound angry or insistent. His tone was steady.
"I love you, elskan*," he said with a smile.
"And I will love my barnabörn* too. It will hurt, if I see them ridiculed by xenophobes who only do it to make themselves feel big, and to attack their parents."

Addý sat silently for a moment, looking at her hands on the table. And then she spoke, not looking up.
"It's not your decision...even if it hurts, it's not your decision on whether or not I am ok with that..."

"Agreed," Kvasir replied.
"But are you ok with it?"

Addý looked up at her father and nodded.
"Yes. I love Thorbjörn. We can't let bad people keep us from beautiful things like love."

"That's poetic. It's nice to see my tuition went to good use."

Addý chuckled softly before continuing.
"But I mean it. People like that come after Thorbjörn because he speaks up. He stands up for our community. You, me, everyone. What kind of person would I be if, when he told me he loved me, I refused to stand by him? For him?"

Part of Kvasir wanted to tell her she was being naive, but another part of him could only smile as he looked into his daughter's eyes. And saw how sincere her words were.

"I love Thorbjörn, and he loves me," Addý added.
"I'll stand by him. I'll help him take all of the hate, and fight for him, if I need to."

"I don't know if my heart can take it," Kvasir said with a soft smile.
"If I see you attacked like that..."

"Pabbi, I love you, but it's not your choice. You need to trust that I know what I'm doing, and strong enough to take it."

Kvasir sighed. He was protective of his daughter. He had been since they came to Saintonge and she had trouble learning the language and fitting in. She had learnt, thanks to her brother, and had grown into a creative and confident young woman, but on a certain level...he felt he needed to protect her.
He nodded....
"Please be careful," he said with a meek grin.

"I will pabbi," Addý replied.
"And you would like Thorbjörn," she added with a smile.

"I do," Kvasir replied.
"I just...worry."

"You don't need to..."

"No, I do. I'll always worry. You'll understand when you have children."

"Pabbi please..." Addý said, chuckling with a blush.

"Come here," Kvasir replied, hugging her. She leaned into him, resting her head on her father's shoulder.

"Thank you," she said softly. Kvasir kissed her on the head and let go.

"So long as you understand what it is you're getting into, I will manage."

"I understand exactly what I'm getting into. Love."

Kvasir laughed softly and stood.
"Your mother will be back soon. Markthór and Nicole are coming over for dinner. Would you like to join us?"

"I...um...." Addý blushed.
"Thorbjörn and I have a date planned."

Kvasir chuckled as Addý stood.
"Well have a good time then. And be safe."

"Of course," Addý replied as she hugged her father.
"And thank you, again."

"Love you, elskan."

"Love you pabbi."

Kvasir saw her out and breathed deep.
He wasn't sure how this conversation was going to go, but he was sure that it ended in a good way. His daughter was happy. What else could he ask for?



*elskan- darling
*barnabörn- grandchildren
 
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