Post by devilinthedetails on Dec 5, 2021 7:33:57 GMT 10
Title: Winter Mischief
Rating: PG-13 for references to alcohol.
For: Kypriotha
Prompt: SOTL gang shenanigans, either as pages/squires or adults.
Summary: Alanna, her friends, and the mischief created by using dinner trays as sleds. Set during Alanna’s time as a page.
Notes: Happy Holidays, Kypriotha! I hope that you will find this story festive and fun!
Winter Mischief
“Firetop.” Gary tapped Alanna on the shoulder as they, Raoul, Alex, and Jon joined the long line waiting for food in the dining hall the pages and squires shared. “You’ve never gone sledding on a dinner tray before, have you?”
Gary’s jest seemed strangely inspired by the pile of wooden meal trays they were approaching as the line made its slow progress forward when more pages and squires were served heaping platters of sliced pork and smoking bowls of hearty vegetable and barley soup.
“A dinner tray as a sled.” Alanna rolled her eyes. “Very funny joke, Gary, but I’m not dumb enough to fall for it. I didn’t arrive at the palace yesterday, after all.”
“Such a derisive and dismissive attitude betrays a functional fixedness truly lamentable in one so young.” Gary heaved the long-suffering sigh he often offered when others proved less enlightened than him, a not uncommon occurrence.
“Functional fixedness?” echoed a bewildered Alanna, who noted inwardly with some frustration that Gary’s massive vocabulary had once again resulted in his words being transformed into gibberish as far as she was concerned.
“An unfortunate inability to realize that something known to have a particular use might also be drawn on to perform other functions.” Gary shook his head as if still mourning her small-mindedness. “As I said, it is sad to see such a stubborn lack of creativity in one as young as you, Alan.”
“A dinner tray as a sled.” Alanna snorted like an irritable horse. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”
“It’s the first snowfall of the season,” chimed in Raoul in a rather sing-song voice, snatching up a tray and stowing it beneath his shirt. “We should celebrate by introducing young Trebond to the noble art of sledding downhill on a dinner tray.”
The first snowfall of the year had made the always high-energy Raoul and Gary even more spirited than ever. Wilder than the boars in the Royal Forest. Alanna couldn’t understand why the snow excited them so. Whenever the snow fell heavy, wet, and cold from the mackerel gray sky, Alanna longed to retreat beneath a mound of cozy blankets and find a crackling fireplace to curl into a chair beside. The very last thing she could imagine wanting to do was going sledding and getting even colder and wetter from the snow blowing all over her.
“I don’t want to go sledding now.” Alanna placed her hands on her hips. “I’m not wearing a hat, gloves, or a winter cloak. I’ll freeze like ice out there, you big oaf!”
“Nonsense.” Alex too had stolen a tray and hidden it under his clothes. “Are you from the northern mountains or not?”
“I’m from the northern mountains, but that doesn’t mean I have winter in my blood,” snapped Alanna. “I’m not a haMinch!”
“Come now.” Jon had plainly lost patience with the debate as he grabbed a tray and stowed it beneath his shirt. “Don’t make me issue a royal command to make you sled with us.”
“Fine, but if I turn into an ice statue it’s all your fault!” Alanna fixed Jon with her most burning amethyst glare to emphasize her unwillingness to be swallowed up in this latest folly of her friends before picking out her own tray and allowing the boys to drag her out of the dining hall.
With much merry laughter, whooping, and backslapping from Gary and Raoul, the group ran down the palace’s stone corridors and out onto the snow-covered palace grounds. In the silver moon and starlight, the snow shone like crystals and crunched like broken glass beneath their booted footsteps as they crossed to a hill that sloped down to the frozen bank of the River Olorun spread below them.
Despite her initial reluctance to join her friends in this insanity, now that she was outside and gazing down the hill, remembering how she had giggled and shrieked with childish glee as she and Thom rode and raced their sleds in Trebond, Alanna threw her tray onto the snow and jumped on it with an eagerness that astonished even herself.
Snow whirled around her as she saw her friends hopping onto their trays and gliding down the hill on all sides of her.
Given their shorter, more slender builds, Alanna and Alex were the first ones to reach the bottom of the hill.
A fact Raoul obviously noticed and resented for he called, words carrying in the wind as he continued his downhill slide, “No fair! We can’t all be as small as Alan and Alex!”
Affronted by Raoul’s assessment of their sizes, Alanna and Alex rolled snowballs and pelted him with them as his sled came to a halt at the base of the hill.
Gary’s arrival at the bottom of the hill was punctuated by a crash as he slammed into a snowbank.
“Only downside to using trays as sleds is their limited steering,” commented Gary with a cheeriness and broad smile that suggested he was undaunted by his collision with the snowbank.
They climbed up the hill and sled down it again five more times until Alanna wasn’t the only one shivering.
“Let’s head to the kitchens,” Jon said as they trudged up the hill after their final sledding descent, cheeks flushed holly-red and teeth chattering from the cold wind whipping off the icy expanse of the Olorun. “I’m sure that I’ll be able to charm the cooks into giving us something warm to eat and drink.”
In the kitchens, which were wonderfully warm from the fires blazing beneath spits of meat spun by kitchen boys and tureens of stew stirred by kitchen maids, Jon was indeed able to charm the cooks into serving him and his friends venison pies hot from the oven washed down by mugs of cider spiced with cinnamon, nutmeg imported at great expense from the Copper Isles.
The crust of Alanna’s venison pie was delightfully flaky and the dark ale gravy studded with chunks of venison, carrots, mushrooms, and onions was decadently rich. She savored every bite of her pie and luxuriated in every sip of her cider that heated her from top to toe.
Once she had finished her pie and cider, Alanna exchanged farewells with her friends and returned to her quarters, where a Coram who had apparently just come back from a shift of sentry duty on the palace walls eyed her with suspicion.
“Tell me ye weren’t getting yer nose into trouble again,” grunted Coram, tweaking her nose as if she were still a toddling little girl.
“I wasn’t getting into trouble,” Alanna piped with more exaggerated innocence than honesty.
“Ye’ll put me in an early grave, lass,” growled Coram, and Alanna deftly dodged the swipe he aimed at her ear. “Now, where did I put me wineskin? I need a drink.”
Rating: PG-13 for references to alcohol.
For: Kypriotha
Prompt: SOTL gang shenanigans, either as pages/squires or adults.
Summary: Alanna, her friends, and the mischief created by using dinner trays as sleds. Set during Alanna’s time as a page.
Notes: Happy Holidays, Kypriotha! I hope that you will find this story festive and fun!
Winter Mischief
“Firetop.” Gary tapped Alanna on the shoulder as they, Raoul, Alex, and Jon joined the long line waiting for food in the dining hall the pages and squires shared. “You’ve never gone sledding on a dinner tray before, have you?”
Gary’s jest seemed strangely inspired by the pile of wooden meal trays they were approaching as the line made its slow progress forward when more pages and squires were served heaping platters of sliced pork and smoking bowls of hearty vegetable and barley soup.
“A dinner tray as a sled.” Alanna rolled her eyes. “Very funny joke, Gary, but I’m not dumb enough to fall for it. I didn’t arrive at the palace yesterday, after all.”
“Such a derisive and dismissive attitude betrays a functional fixedness truly lamentable in one so young.” Gary heaved the long-suffering sigh he often offered when others proved less enlightened than him, a not uncommon occurrence.
“Functional fixedness?” echoed a bewildered Alanna, who noted inwardly with some frustration that Gary’s massive vocabulary had once again resulted in his words being transformed into gibberish as far as she was concerned.
“An unfortunate inability to realize that something known to have a particular use might also be drawn on to perform other functions.” Gary shook his head as if still mourning her small-mindedness. “As I said, it is sad to see such a stubborn lack of creativity in one as young as you, Alan.”
“A dinner tray as a sled.” Alanna snorted like an irritable horse. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”
“It’s the first snowfall of the season,” chimed in Raoul in a rather sing-song voice, snatching up a tray and stowing it beneath his shirt. “We should celebrate by introducing young Trebond to the noble art of sledding downhill on a dinner tray.”
The first snowfall of the year had made the always high-energy Raoul and Gary even more spirited than ever. Wilder than the boars in the Royal Forest. Alanna couldn’t understand why the snow excited them so. Whenever the snow fell heavy, wet, and cold from the mackerel gray sky, Alanna longed to retreat beneath a mound of cozy blankets and find a crackling fireplace to curl into a chair beside. The very last thing she could imagine wanting to do was going sledding and getting even colder and wetter from the snow blowing all over her.
“I don’t want to go sledding now.” Alanna placed her hands on her hips. “I’m not wearing a hat, gloves, or a winter cloak. I’ll freeze like ice out there, you big oaf!”
“Nonsense.” Alex too had stolen a tray and hidden it under his clothes. “Are you from the northern mountains or not?”
“I’m from the northern mountains, but that doesn’t mean I have winter in my blood,” snapped Alanna. “I’m not a haMinch!”
“Come now.” Jon had plainly lost patience with the debate as he grabbed a tray and stowed it beneath his shirt. “Don’t make me issue a royal command to make you sled with us.”
“Fine, but if I turn into an ice statue it’s all your fault!” Alanna fixed Jon with her most burning amethyst glare to emphasize her unwillingness to be swallowed up in this latest folly of her friends before picking out her own tray and allowing the boys to drag her out of the dining hall.
With much merry laughter, whooping, and backslapping from Gary and Raoul, the group ran down the palace’s stone corridors and out onto the snow-covered palace grounds. In the silver moon and starlight, the snow shone like crystals and crunched like broken glass beneath their booted footsteps as they crossed to a hill that sloped down to the frozen bank of the River Olorun spread below them.
Despite her initial reluctance to join her friends in this insanity, now that she was outside and gazing down the hill, remembering how she had giggled and shrieked with childish glee as she and Thom rode and raced their sleds in Trebond, Alanna threw her tray onto the snow and jumped on it with an eagerness that astonished even herself.
Snow whirled around her as she saw her friends hopping onto their trays and gliding down the hill on all sides of her.
Given their shorter, more slender builds, Alanna and Alex were the first ones to reach the bottom of the hill.
A fact Raoul obviously noticed and resented for he called, words carrying in the wind as he continued his downhill slide, “No fair! We can’t all be as small as Alan and Alex!”
Affronted by Raoul’s assessment of their sizes, Alanna and Alex rolled snowballs and pelted him with them as his sled came to a halt at the base of the hill.
Gary’s arrival at the bottom of the hill was punctuated by a crash as he slammed into a snowbank.
“Only downside to using trays as sleds is their limited steering,” commented Gary with a cheeriness and broad smile that suggested he was undaunted by his collision with the snowbank.
They climbed up the hill and sled down it again five more times until Alanna wasn’t the only one shivering.
“Let’s head to the kitchens,” Jon said as they trudged up the hill after their final sledding descent, cheeks flushed holly-red and teeth chattering from the cold wind whipping off the icy expanse of the Olorun. “I’m sure that I’ll be able to charm the cooks into giving us something warm to eat and drink.”
In the kitchens, which were wonderfully warm from the fires blazing beneath spits of meat spun by kitchen boys and tureens of stew stirred by kitchen maids, Jon was indeed able to charm the cooks into serving him and his friends venison pies hot from the oven washed down by mugs of cider spiced with cinnamon, nutmeg imported at great expense from the Copper Isles.
The crust of Alanna’s venison pie was delightfully flaky and the dark ale gravy studded with chunks of venison, carrots, mushrooms, and onions was decadently rich. She savored every bite of her pie and luxuriated in every sip of her cider that heated her from top to toe.
Once she had finished her pie and cider, Alanna exchanged farewells with her friends and returned to her quarters, where a Coram who had apparently just come back from a shift of sentry duty on the palace walls eyed her with suspicion.
“Tell me ye weren’t getting yer nose into trouble again,” grunted Coram, tweaking her nose as if she were still a toddling little girl.
“I wasn’t getting into trouble,” Alanna piped with more exaggerated innocence than honesty.
“Ye’ll put me in an early grave, lass,” growled Coram, and Alanna deftly dodged the swipe he aimed at her ear. “Now, where did I put me wineskin? I need a drink.”