The Most Wonderful Time of the Year? open

"Hm... perhaps something simple, like peace or being at peace?"

"I think a combination of Iris' and White Lilies' would represent that, as it means good news and purity respectfully" I said after a moment "Not sure if they have one specifically for peace."

"Yeah, I can't really remember off the top of my head if there is one that stands for peace," I agreed meekly.

"If you want, we could always ask?" I responded easily.

"Ask?" I echoed. "I guess. I just thought for some reason they'd have some here, because it's a peaceful place, so peaceful flowers."

"One does not always need a flower to represent something. The old Vikings of the past once had a god for almost anything. Sometimes, there just... 'is'..." A voice spoke up, and he walked around the courner with a decent portion of food for each of us balanced on a tray. "Worry not about the meanings of things. I rather worry about how to CHANGE the things." He chuckled, tousling my hair as he set the tray down. "Like our rambunctious little boy here. Still trying to remove all the 'evil' from him, years later." He teased, getting me to laugh as well.

"That makes sense. But I'm just the person who likes certain things to be constant, to have a solid meanjng... but people are always going to change, it's quite strange."

"Try not to contain what is not meant to be contained, my dear. If you spend too much time trying to pin down and hold the waterfall of things around you and make them stay as they are, you will miss the things that pass you by." He responded, breaking his chopsticks with a slight bow and prayer, one i followed suit with out of respect.

I mimicked the actions of the others before turning my focus to the meal. "It can be pretty hard to let go though...of the stability of certain things, i mean."

"Understandable. But depending on a few things to stay the same forever can lead to disaster, if one of those things were to disappear entirely." He responded once he had finished chewing his current bite

"Yeah...like I said, pretty hard to let go. This stuff is pretty good," I said, pointing to the food.

"It should be, I've been cooking this meal for the past 10 years." He chuckled in response, with me shaking my head. "How you dont get sick of it.... is beyond me...."

"Well, if you love it enough, you never get sick of it. It's like having coffee every morning. How did you make this, if you don't mind me asking?"

"By cooking it. we pre-prepared it in advance. Basically, we throw it over a fire, then after its done we remove it." He responded in amusement

I pouted slightly. "Booo, that wasn't what I meant, I wanted to know ingredients and stuff..."

"It's simple rice, with Thyme, Rosemary, salt, rice, and some lemon juice. Cooked over oak wood." He smiled wide, a toothy grin on his face now.

"Oh, I see," I said, nodding. "...I didn't react that strangely..."

"No, he is just a crazy old man that enjoys teasing and messing with younger people." I smiled, causing the man to laugh with a nod

"Oh, great, so basically my dad..." I said, rolling my eyes in an overly dramatic manner.

"Just wait. He gets worse. The puns alone have been known to kill men after repeated exposure." I said smoothly, laughing at the look of mock hurt on his face.

"Oh? Is that so? I'd probably kill to hear a good one."

"Alright. Did you ever hear about the emotional wedding? Even the cake was in Tiers." The monk smiled, causing me to groan in annoyance. "I swear, these are just as bad as dad jokes..."

"But your reactions are pretty funny..." I said, grinning at his expense.

"What do you tell robbers? Nothing, they take things literally." He continued, causing an almost pained groan of annoyance from me

I stifled a giggle. "Uh oh, seems like someone can't handle the pun storm."