Winter Solstice
“You do not have winter in Asgard?” Atlanta asks, perhaps noticing how I mull over “winter foods.”
I shake my head.
“Have you ever visited another place while it is wintertime?”
I nod.
“Did they fear winter?”
I shake my head, more hesitantly.
“Do they have winter festivities or meals?”
I nod, fighting an urge to squirm – whether from discomfort or embarrassment of my perfectly valid distaste of winter, I do not care.
“Did you enjoy your time there?”
I nod again, reluctantly, recalling the shenanigans that my child self and Thor’s got embroiled in Vanaheim, when Mother brought us there during wintertime to visit with Grandfather Njord. And how we revelled in the different ambience, temperature, clothing, games, foods, beverages…!
“It was winter solstice,” I reveal, unable to dam the flood of sweet memories of when everything was much simpler and more innocent, when Thor had much more time to spend with me instead of his friends, when he was much more perceptive and… loving. “My brother and I ate so many winterberries that we got sick for a whole day. But we did that again the next day, only to vomit on our grandfather during the solstice rite.”