Kristurjól inn Prydansk | Christmas in Prydania

[Prydania]

Hark! how the bells, sweet silver bells
All seem to say "Throw cares away."
Christmas is here, bringing good cheer
To young and old, meek and the bold
Ding, dong, ding, dong, that is their song
With joyful ring, all caroling
One seems to hear, words of good cheer
From ev'rywhere, filling the air
Oh, how they pound, raising the sound
O'er hill and dale, telling their tale
Joyf'ly they ring, while people sing
Songs of good cheer, christmas is here
Merry, merry, merry, merry Christmas
Merry, merry, merry, merry Christmas
On-on they send, on without end
Their joyful tone to ev'ry home

25 December 2022
9:24 am
On a Sunday
Býkonsviði, Prydania

Alycia yanked the green and white santa hat off of Tobias as he looked up at her from his desk with a faux sad look.

"My hat!" he said sounding wounded.

"You're not wearing that on tv," she teased as a RÚV tv crew set up around them.

"Why not?" Tobias replied with a smile. He was wearing a green sweater with a white collared shirt poking out from under it, worn because it matched the hat.

"You know why," she teased before kissing him on the forehead. He smiled, and like clockwork a RÚV production assistant was there to wipe away the mark of Aly's lipstick.

"Pabbi!" Baldr and Hael said as they ran in.

"My boys," he said with a grin. He got out of his chair to hug them both.

"You go with Maminka, ok?"

The two nodded and Aly took their small hands.
"Have a good speech darling. She had an infant daughter to get to.

"I won't be long," he said with a grin. He was expected to give a speech every Christmas. Two actually. And that two had become three.
He was expected to give a speech at the Christmas services on Christmas Eve in Býkonsviði. Which he did. But earlier he'd attended Christmas Eve survives in Korovka, Korova. A little known fact was that the Laurenist Church of Korova was actually a "branch" or the Prydanian Laurenist Church. So Tobias was the head of that one too. And he felt he should appear there as well, this year.

So as he sipped water he wondered if he'd written a good speech for the national broadcast? His third in twenty-four hours. And just as he was getting ready he felt a pull on his khakis. He tensed up, a remnant of the war, but smiled seeing a two year old Baldr.

"For luck Pabbi," he said holding something. Tobias reached down and took it in his palm. It was a grey rock. He smiled. It looked... familiar. He couldn't figure out where, but he'd seen it before and it filled him with warmth.

"Luck, huh?"

"Uh-huh!" Baldr replied smiling and giggling before he ran back to Aly and Hael. Tobias smiled and slipped the grey stone into his pocket as the RÚV cameras went live.

"Hello," he said warmly.
"I was thinking a lot about the birth of Kristur. Hardly an original idea for today I know," he chuckled softly.
"But we must remember that when Mary and Joseph were travelling through the countryside and needed a place to stay, the inn they came upon was full. But the innkeeper..." Tobias smiled and shook his head.

"Do you think that the innkeeper knew that the mother of the Messiah was at his doorstep? No. He just saw a couple in need. And so he made what room he could in a manger. I think people take the wrong lesson from this story."

Tobias paused and looked down for a moment and then back into the camera.
"People think it's some deeply symbolic thing that the saviour of mankind was born in lowly manger. But it wasn't that it was lowly that's important. No, what's important was that a man saw his fellow man in need and did what he could. Maybe it wasn't much... but he gave an expecting mother and father without a roof a place to bring their child into the world. It doesn't matter that the child was Jesús, what matters is the act."

He shrugged and chuckled.
"I admit I had my struggles with faith for a lot of my life. Maybe for those who have kept faith close to your hearts all of your lives this is obvious, but to me I still find wonder in it. And how can I not? I look around. I see Churches all over our realm. Five years ago they were in disrepair or used as monuments to tyranny. Now... now they not only once more host the faithful, but once more they house the cold and hungry. They take in the needy. They once more fulfil their purpose. Kindness to their fellow man. Like the innkeeper in Iraelia over two-thousand years ago."

"It doesn't matter if it's a place to stay or some food in a collection... charity for the needy is what underpins our society. We aren't judged by how much money we have, or our possessions when we meet God, but how much we made the world a better place. I think a lot about that, the story of the innkeeper. I hope everyone who needed help this Christmas was met by someone willing to provide some kindness."

Tobias smiled wild.
"And I hope everyone was able to be with family and friends. In fact I have a wife and children to get to, and I shan't take up anymore of your time, my fellow Prydanians. Merry Christmas. And God bless."

 

[Prydania]

25 December 2022
9:36 am
On a Sunday
Býkonsviði, Prydania

Þorfinnur turned the volume on the tv down as the King's speech ended. Valfríður was ready to start the day long process of preparing a massive Christmas dinner for both sides of the family plus guests, but there was something important to do. She winked at her husband as he tended to Eyríkur before sitting next to Styrbjörn by the Christmas tree.

"Did you like your presents, bud?" he asked.

"Já!!" the three year old proclaimed. Þorfinnur felt a bit of sadness come over him. He really wanted his brother to be her, to see his nephew. But he knew he was... looking down. He grinned.

"You're going to tell Grandpabbi and Grandmamma thank you, right?"

Styrbjörn nodded and Þorfinnur leaned in close to his son.
"What if," he said with a sly smile, "there were more presents coming?"

The three year old's eyes went wide and winked.
"Pabbi knows someone really important."

He took his phone out of this pocket and sent a quick text. And pretty soon... a knock on the door!

"I wonder who that is," Elina asked her grandson with a smile as she answered the door.
"Oh my!"

Styrbjörn's blue eyes went as wide as they could when he saw who came in.

"Sank Nikulás!" he proclaimed as a man with a thick white beard, dressed in a green cloak and jacket, lined in white fur, and carrying a staff of mistletoe. He looked over at Styrbjörn and then Eyríkur.

"Oh my! Is this Styrbjörn and Eyríkur Granseth's house?"

Þorfinnur, his wife, his mother, and father all smiled at each other as Þorfinnur winked at his friend Eðvar Mordt. He and Eðvar ran away to join the FRE together. They'd fought together. Eðvar helped him deal with his brother's execution at the hands of the Syndies. If there was one man he loved like a brother, it was Eðvar. And he winked back at Þorfinnur before turning his attention to Styrbjörn. It was hard for him too. He'd been Þorfinnur's friend since they were kids. He knew the original Styrbjörn... and seeing Þor's son... he smiled as the three year old jumped up and down.

"Já, já, this is the right house Sank Nikulás!"

"Well then, Styrbjörn!" Sank Nikulás said as he pulled in a sack and grabbed a few wrapped boxes out.
"I'm very sorry I couldn't deliver all of these last night. But you see sometimes the North Pole Postal Service runs a bit behind! Thankfully your Pabbi is a good friend of mine."

"You know Sank Nikulás Pabbi?" Styrbjörn asked his father. Þorfinnur smiled wide and nodded.
"Oh we've been friends a long time!"
That wasn't untrue!

"But Sank Nikulás why didn't you come down the chimney?"

Eðvar looked over at the roaring fireplace and smirked under the fake beard.
"Well you see that's just for Christmas Eve so I don't wake anyone up with knocks at the door. But for the day it's just polite to use the front door, isn't it?"

Styrbjörn smiled and nodded, and Þorfinnur nodded to the presents.
"Go on and open them for you and your brother!"

Styrbjörn eagerly ripped into the presents. Two Spilvel sets and a set of baby clothes for Eyríkur. Styrbjörn was blown away by the Spilvel spaceship sets.

"I'll help you build them," Þorfinnur said with a grin. He had grown up playing with Spilvel with his brother. And now... now he'd play with it with his son.
"You were a good boy! You deserved it!" Sank Nikulás replied.
"You're going to keep being good, right?"

"Já!" Styrbjörn smiled.

"Good boy!"

"What do you say, to Sank Nikulás?" Valfríður asked in a kind yet motherly way.

"Danke Sank Nikulás!" Styrbjörn proclaimed looking up with a wide gaze and grin.

Eðvar smiled and ruffled the three year old's hair and hugged Þorfinnur.

"You have a good one bro," he whispered.

"You too," Þorfinnur whispered.
"Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas."

Þorfinnur smiled, watching his friend in the guise of Sank Nikulás depart. His son ecstatic over some extra presents. His youngest unaware of what was happening but laughing, his wife and parents... he looked up.

"Thank you Styrbjörn," he said to his brother. Smiling.

 

[Prydania]

25 December 2022
10:02 am
On a Sunday
Darrow, Prydania

Laurids Hummel sipped hot chocolate as he casually enjoyed a stroll down the docks of his hometown. They were bustling with food stands, decorations, carollers.

"I miss this," he said as the cold, salty wind blew in off the Auburn Coast.

"You don't spend time at the docks in Býkonsviði?" his father Ottar asked.

"Nah. It's not the same anyway."

"I'm happy you're home," Dagheiður replied, hugging her son's arm. Laurids leaned into his mamma and smiled. It wasn't often he got to come home. He was in charge of the Royal family's personal security after all. But His Majesty always gave him Christmas and New Year's off.

"I'm happy to be home mamma," he answered.

"You know we don't see enough of you," Ottar added with a smirk. Laurids sighed.

"You could always visit me in Býkonsviði," he said as the three turned up Darrow's bustling marketplace.
"I can get you a tour of Absalonhöll, the Haraldvirki... Pabbi, I could get you and Mamma to meet the King."

"That's not how I raised you," Ottar smirked.
"Using your position for personal favours."

Laurids chuckled. Because he knew his father was mostly kidding... but also serious enough that he knew if he did introduce him to the King he'd be dreadfully apologetic for his son's actions.

Dagheiður just chuckled.
"I'm so proud of you. My son, protects the King, Queen, Princes, and Princess. You don't need to call in favours."

"Alright, alright!" Laurids laughed.
"God forbid I do anything of the sort! But you could still visit me you know."

"Maybe, when I'm not so busy."

"Work still good Pabbi?"

"Better than ever," Ottar answered with a wide grin. There was a certain relief in how he said it that Laurids recognized. For years during the Syndicalist regime he worked on their vehicles in exchange for not being harassed. Now that they were gone his father could go back to working on fishing boat engines like he always liked. No dealing with scum to survive. And as if to emphasize that point...

"I feel like I'm ten years younger!"

"You certainly do," Dagheiður added, giving her husband a wink. Ottar winked back and Laurids caught it.

"Eeew no! It's Christmas!"

Ottar and Dagheiður chuckled though as they made their way down Darrow's festive Christmas market.

 

[Prydania]

25 December 2022
11:05 am
On a Sunday
Markarfljot, Prydania

Matthea threw a snowball at Tjörvi, and he dramatically fell into a snowbank along the side of the road. No one seemed to mind. It was Christmas! Kids were out with their parents, sledding and running to the local outdoor rink in the park with skates to play some pond hockey... and the sound of celebration was everywhere as the town's square was a buzz with Christmas cheer.

"You know just because you're a footballer," Matthea said with a smile.
"Doesn't mean you need to milk it!" she added as she stood over him. Tjörvi looked up and laughed as his girlfriend reached out to pull him out of the snow bank.

"I wasn't milking anything! You have a strong arm!" be proclaimed before wrapping his arm around her shoulder. He was naturally protective of her. And she cuddled up against him as he led her through the market. They had no plans. They had a room at the local inn and right now they were just taking in the sights.

"Is it like you remember love?" Matthea asked.

"Hm?"

"Your hometown."

"Já kinda of," Tjörvi answered.
"But it's also different. In a good way. There's more stuff here," he said as they looked around the market. Indeed... even behind the Christmas cheer there was more life in the marketplace than he ever remembered.

"So where will you take me for lunch?" she asked teasingly.
"There's a really good steiktsvínakjöt and fish place, actually. They have the best fried potatoes I swear to God."

"Better than your Auntie's?"

Tjörvi blushed and chuckled.
"Please don't tattle on me," he said with a goofy smile.

"Never!" Matthea said with a wide smile.

They were here alone. It was Tjörvi's hometown. But his sister Ásthildur and his Aunt Anselma were back in Saintonge with the kids and Ásthi's husband Léopold-Christophe's family for Christmas.

So Tjörvi had taken the Christmas leave granted to him by AJSTC to take his girlfriend to his hometown. Just the two of them. It wasn't even Matthea's. She was from the Heartlands. Not Austurland. But she was eager to go back to Prydania for a visit. Like him she missed home.

Tjörvi led her down the street to his favourite lunch place and then... he stopped. He looked down the road. There was townhouse in a row of them.

The one he was looking at wasn't any different. And two kids played outside with what looked like their pabbi.

Tjörvi didn't know them. But he knew the house. It was his house. Where he lived with his mamma and pabbi and big sister. Where he dented the fireplace grate by kicking footballs into it as a kid...

It was also where his life was shattered. Where Syndicalist People's Militia murdered his parents.

Where he lost his sister.

Where they took him... and put him in that camp... he blushed but he smiled.

Because despite all of that... he saw a house. His house. With a fresh coat of paint. A woman came out to beckon her husband and sons inside. A house... once more housing a loving family.

And that... that made him feel good.

"Merry Christmas Mamma, Merry Christmas Pabbi," he said softly, half to himself, before looking back at Matthea. He had tears in her eyes, but he was smiling.

And it didn't matter. They both knew they could cry in front of each other.

She hugged him tight. And he took one more look at his old house before leading the love of his life to the best steiktsvínakjöt and potatoes in the world.

 

[Prydania]

25 December 2022
6:03 pm
On a Sunday
Skapta, Prydania

It was already dark and the snow was falling lightly at Sea-Hi's Famous Skandan Food. The red light of the sign illuminated the parking lot with a warm glow.

The chatter in the restaurant was low but lively. It was empty save for the few Shaddaist families in Skapta.

In fact Sólimann Ravn was just coming back to his table with his wife Rebekka and son Nik from visiting with a friend and his family.

"Issak says hello," Sólimann said, sitting down as Let it Snow began to play. It just added to the hygge- warm feeling. The interior of this place was peak 70s. The kicker was that the owners had gotten a big loan to renovate the business after the War... and used it to preserve the classic look.

It the right move. Skapta was a smallish town but Sea-Hi's was the best Skandan food this side of Callise. The place was a G-damn national treasure.

"I know," Nik said as his father sat.
"I remember two minutes ago when he came over here."

"Smart aleck," Sólimann said with a smirk as his son smiled. Rebekka stifled a chuckle as Nik munched on a spring roll. It was nice. The last of the Yirhet’kel candles were lit and now it was time for a proper Shaddaist Christmas tradition- Skandan food.

"This song was written by a Prydanian Shaddaist," Sólimann said as he nibbled on some spareribs.

"Oh I know," Nik replied as he sipped some Toki's.

"A song by a Prydanian Shaddaist, sung by a Predico-Santonian, in Prydanian! Isn't that something!" Sólimann added.

"It's something alright," Nik chuckled. He knew how to be when his father got to this. And nibbled on some more appetizers.

"So," Rebekka spoke up.
"How's the Army?"

Nik shrugged.
"Army's the Army you know. I'm in line with a promotion."

"Oh?" his father asked.

"Já, Captain. How about that? Captain Ravn."

"Your uncle would have told you get into politics."

"Well maybe I'll do that when I make General," Nik chuckled.

"I'm so proud of you, sweetie," Rebekka said as rubbed her son's hand.
"I guess that means you impressed someone in Ducrijeka!"

Nik blushed a bit.
"More than one person I think," he said thinking back to the Essalanean soldier he found himself in a trist with.

"So!" Sólimann declared.
"Captain! What does that mean?"

"It means," Nik continued as he ate before a friendly voice spoke over him.

"Doctor Ravn!"

"Herra Leilani!"

Sólimann leaned back in his chair and shook the hand of the old Skandan man who had owned Sea-Hi's seemingly forever, wearing his customary golden sports jacket while working.
Haoa Leilani's Skandan accent was mostly subdued after so long in Prydania.

"It's always great to see you, having a happy holidays?"

"Delightful," Sólimann replied.

"And you Rebekka, how are you?"

"Oh just lovely. I have my son in so what's there to complain about?" she asked with a smile.
"How's Kahekili?"

"Ag!" Haoa waves dismissively.
"She's sick. Just a cold but better safe than sorry."

"Oh I'm so sorry to hear about that. Please give her my regards."

"Of course, of course," Haoa replied before turning to Nik.

"So good to have you around again!"

Nik was about to speak when Sólimann spoke for him.

"My son, Herra Leilani! He's going to be a Captain!"

"Oh! Congratulations!"

"Danke," Nik said with a grin.

"You know the deal! Military gets half off."

Nik smirked. He'd known this man most of his life which is why he felt comfortable saying what he was about to say.

"There's a Skandan place in Býkonsviði where military eats free."

"What place?" Haoa asked.

"Saitó Express."

"Ah, Akau Ulani's place."

"Já."

"Free's about what you should be paying for that stuff," Haoa said with a nod and a smirk. Nik chuckled "it's not like home."

"Nope. Best Skandan food on Craviter, and I'll stand by it! Anyway, happy holidays to everyone!"

"Happy holidays!" the Ravns said as Haoa made his way to the next table.

Nik bobbed his head a bit to the Christmas music, the hygge, or coziness, of the restaurant a nice contrast to the dark and snow outside.

"So Captain! What does a Captain do?" Sólimann asked. Nik chuckled. You could put his father in a coma for a hundred years and he'd still remember to follow up with the last question he had on his mind.

"I'd either be second in command or command of a company. It depends," he explained as he ate.
"If it's a small company, you know. 80 soldiers or so, I'll probably be in charge. But I might be second in command if it's a bigger one."

Rebekka nodded and Sólimann just looked on intently, curiously.

"How big can companies get?"

"Two hundred and fifty," Nik said with a nod as he ate.

"Ah ok," Sólimann nodded. He'd been very unsure about his son's decision to pursue a career in the army, but he seemed to be doing ok for himself.

"And this whole meshigna, this whole reorganization, you part of that?"

"Já," Nik nodded.
"Everyone is."

"And it's going well?"

"The new recruits are coming along! Most are into it! That's good."

"I was hearing some people say it will be good for younger people. Get some military discipline in them and help with the national defence."

Nik smirked. "I heard some people say" was his dad's way of saying "I was wrong and I'm changing my mind."

"Well Abba, it helped me."

Sólimann nodded with a smile. He'd been against his son joining the FRE. Now... now he'd seen he was wrong.

"Já it did... so! What's going on with the Lakers?"

Nik grinned. Alaterva's hockey team. Defending Western Conference Champions starting the season off sluggish. It meant he'd survived the interrogation portion of the family dinner.

So he eagerly got into why the Lakers' usually string goaltending had gone to hell, as the Shaddaist families in Sea-Hi's Famous Skandan Food echoed softly against the dark snowfall of Christmas night.