pin_up_girl (pin_up_girl) wrote in olympian_rewind, @ 2009-12-03 22:46:00 |
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Entry tags: | erato, npc, valentine ames |
Who: Val and Jarrod (cameo by Mr Gobbler)
What: Domestic Talk
Where: Their Kitchen
When: The Day before Thanksgiving
Warnings: none
Valentine hummed softly to herself, stirring a pot as she prepared a few things for her Thanksgiving dishes. It was a wonderful holiday for her--maybe not full of sex but definitely full of love. She wanted to cook that warm feeling into her food.
Jarrod sat nearby in the doorway between kitchen and hall connecting kitchen to the rest of the house. But he was not alone. Oh no, he sat staring at the turkey that was staring at him. It shook its head and made a series of sounds and he replied the only way he could, “Gobble gobble to you, too.”
"Don't tease the turkey, hon," Val chided, a smile playing over her features. She lifted her spoon to taste, quirked her lips and reached for her pepper mill. "When are you going to...uh...dispatch Mr. Gobbler?"
“Early in the morning of. I'm good at butchering. It doesn't take that long,” Jarrod easily answered as he pulled himself up to his feet and strolled over to her. In one fluid motion, he slipped his arms around and pressed a kiss to her cheek, “What did I tell you about naming him?”
"Ugh. Now I need to get up extra early to brine him," Val whined, leaning her cheek in to receive his kiss. "Calling him 'the Turkey' feels too impersonal. I mean we've fed him for days. I'm just glad the kids are too young to need us to explain his sudden absence."
“If they were older they would be helping.” Jarrod grinned, the image of him and the three children at age four gathered around a turkey almost flickered in his bright green eyes. One of the children had an axe... He was already proud. “I'll handle everything with, Mr. Gobbler. You're doing plenty as is.”
"Yeah, I almost feel like I'm overcooking, but then...I remember Herakles will be there," Val laughed fondly, taking another spoonful. "Taste this."
“If you plan on overcooking for Christmas, too, cook pies. We never have enough pies at Ridgekeep.” Jarrod tasted the spoonful and thought about it for a second, “You could probably put a little more salt in it.”
Val took another taste and nodded in agreement. She sprinkled in kosher salt. "It'll be nice to see snow again." Nothing wrong with warm weather, of course, but a change of climate could be fun. "And pies are easy. Have you seen my collection of preserves?"
Jarrod nodded, “Yeah. I've seen them as I shovel them into my mouth for midnight snacks.”
Val laughed at that, setting her spoon down to give her husband a tight hug. "Sneaky man...are you excited for the dinner party?"
He shrugged a little, “I didn't think it was a dinner party...”
"Well not the stuffy kind," Val replied, shrugging her shoulders right back. "But it's a dinner get together." She ran a finger over one of his ears.
“Stop that.” Jarrod didn't say it tickled a little, but that was only because he didn't want to admit to it. Instead, he turned his head and lightly kissed her finger, “Good. That means I don't need to dress up at all.”
"Right," Val nodded. She'd be wearing a dress on the nicer side of things, but then she didn't get out enough to play dress up these days. "Thank you by the way."
She wouldn't be thanking him when he was putting on the flannel shirt and the overalls, but he smiled for now, “Thanking me for what?”
"For staying here for Thanksgiving," Val shrugged, pushing a piece of hair back over her ear. "I know you and your family are very close."
“I'll drag you to mine for plenty of holidays. Thanksgiving isn't a real holiday for us anyway...” Jarrod began to tug her forward against his body as he walked backwards until he could finally lean back against a counter. “We just like the excuse to feast and drink and that act being patrotic.”
"Like we're so American," Val muttered, rolling her eyes. She let herself be tugged closer, but she cast one woeful glance over her shoulder at the cooking. It could simmer for awhile, she supposed. "We just like excuses to eat until we puke."
Jarrod tried to distract her away from worrying about that pot. She had paid enough attention to it already. She didn't see him worrying so much about the turkey that was aimlessly wandering around now. Gently, he traced the side of her face, bringing her eyes back to him, “Now that I think about it, my family is pretty American. Vikings are the second Americans after the Natives here.”
"You're also in early Irish history, so...Happy Saint Patrick's day when that comes around," Val offered, a smile quirking at the corners of her cheeks even as she was caught in his gaze. "So. What are you thankful for? We should practice our answers before anyone asks."
“Oh, we love St. Patrick's Day. Any excuse for public beer drinking.” He laughed a little and then closed his eyes, casually stroking her hair as he settled back more to think. “Can I still get away with being thankful for not losing by sense of self when I was a captive or is that too long ago?”
"I think that's fine," Val murmured, resting her ear against his chest. "I'm grateful for it..." She wouldn't have been able to cultivate her family without Freyr. She was glad that he was still himself.
“Oh good, because that really is the start of my happy little life here. Then you got me my sunlight in Greg... Teddy... um...” Jarrod let out a heavy sigh and shook his head. Name changes made telling stories much more complicated. “Herakles' basement.”
Valentine nodded, hugging onto her husband's shoulders. She supposed even then she knew that Freyr would be important in her life. She had seen him come through something so horrible and come out the other side stronger than ever, and she wanted to be that way--to be able to grow from what the last few years had dealt her. "I'm thankful for your influence on my life. You're my rock. So I guess it's related."
He nodded. It was related. It was all related. Every step of their relationship together had been marked with challenge – a choice between despair or victory. Smiling a bit more, he kissed her forehead. “I'm thankful that we've found this much victory.”
"We are a damn successful couple," Val noted with a grin, pressing a kiss to his mouth before tugging herself away to stir her pots. "It's a good thing we have triplets. If we got out more often, people would be super jealous."
“Part of me is a little surprised we only had three...” Shrugging a little, he turned and went to the fridge to fetch a soda, “But then I look at them and see how they're just condensed bundles of awesome and it all makes sense.”
"Right. They've got the coolness of about twenty babies," Val nodded, taking one of her sauces off of the stove. "And singing sessions have been going so well."
How did all they have was diet soda? He rummaged all the more in the fridge now, moving juice and milk and everything else. Why? It's not like they had to worry about their weight. Jarrod sighed a little and grabbed the diet Mountain Dew. He was pretty sure the 'diet' on the label was a lie anyway and then turned to her with a small smile, “Oh? Did they figure out how to follow your directions?”
Val frowned a bit, shrugging her shoulders. "They're getting there. They're still better at singing along with me or copying me than they are at watching my hands." That didn't surprise her--children had wandering attention spans. "They're singing on their own now. I caught them doing it once or twice. It's so lovely."
“Sing-a-longs are just more fun.” Jarrod took a heavy gulp from the can and then put it aside in favor of putting his arms around her waist. “You should teach them how to sing an a-round song. They would be good at it with the three of them.”
"Yes that's true...they'd never be lonely that way either. When all my sisters are together and we sing...it's just..." There really weren't words for it. Her heart felt cold and achey just remembering it.
Now it was his turn to frown a bit and he wrapped his arms tighter around her, holding her close to him. His voice hushed as he whispered in her ear, “It's okay...”
"It's not, but I'll be okay," she murmured, leaning against him for strength. "I just wish...that I felt better about the sisters that I have here. We're living such separate lives these days. Maybe I should be doing more to reach out to them...”
“Well,” He began as he returned to gently stroking her hair, “Maybe you all can have a party or something together. Get together, have some food, sing... You know, all that stuff.”
"Not a terrible idea," Val murmured, glancing in his direction. "You always give the best advice." She smiled, pulling away to hunch over her stove. "I should be done really soon...y'know after all this prep for tomorrow, I think we can just order in dinner tonight."
“I figured that was plan from the start. In fact, every Thanksgiving I've had, I've had takeout the night before so...” He shrugged. Traditions continue on without any effort from him. He looked down only to see the turkey looking up at him and with a laugh, he crouched down to be eye level with it. “I always wonder if the animals know...”
"Mr. Gobbler seems like the naive type," Val commented, taking another pot off the stove. She started to pull out contained to spoon her preparations into. "We'll have to make sure he has a good night tonight."
“Yeah. He is giving his life. That does mean he deserves the honor of the good final night.” Of course, Jarrod wasn't especially sure what a turkey would like for its last night on Earth. Then a thought occurred to him. “Remind me to call my sister. Birds are sacred to her. Maybe she'd know something good to do.”
"Okay. I'll remind you," Val murmured, turning off the rest of the heat on the stove and the oven. "Done. Everything just needs to settle...I am such a domestic champion."
“Yup. Queen of the house, conqueror of all its ills.” From anyone else, that might have sounded sarcastic, but from him it wasn't it. He meant it with full honor and praise and his tone ensured there would be no misunderstanding. With a pat to the turkey's head, he nudged it along and stood up once more, “Want to go outside now and lay out in the sun as a family?”
"Yes, that sounds great. Get the kids ready while I clean up a bit, okay?" She turned to peck another kiss on his lips before getting a rag to wipe everything down with.
“I think you may have an addiction with cleaning, but okay.” It was a bad addiction to have with living with him. All he did was track dirt into the house. But with another laugh he went off to grab the triplets. Hopefully they would be up from their nap.
"It's not an addiction, it's practical!" She called after him, shaking her head as she wiped the cooking grime from the stove. This was one of her absolute favorite times of year, and in spite of how out of touch she felt with her Greek family, the holiday was made better by how thankful she felt for the little family she had made on her own.
Summary: Val reflects on her family over cooking, and she and her husband share what they are thankful for.