"I named this place Asvera for a reason," Thor answers, which might be side-stepping the question a little, but it's hard to speak of such things and he does not want to admit that he's not as healed as he'd like. "It's been a place for our people to put down new roots and begin growing again. There have been a dozen new babies in the last year," he adds, and it's something he can truly take heart in, knowing that future generations are still being born even after the cataclysms that nearly destroyed the entire people. Even adding one more number to the village population sign is a cause for celebration, these days.
Thor begins walking again, slipping out from under Loki's hand casually as he turns to point out where the village goats are kept. Not small, bony things like Earth tends to raise, but good strong Vanir stock, large enough to rival a good sized pony, with healthy curling horns and ruggedly shaggy fur. "Most of the milk in the village comes from our own herds now. Gyda Elofsdottir makes cheese and soap from it, too. It's not quite enough to sell to outsiders but I'm told the human tourists will want it, once that starts up again. We might need to expand even further onto the mainland if we want a bigger herd, they'll eat everything on the islands if we don't." He chuckles at the thought, and points out a church to their left, a fresh new wooden sign proclaiming it to be the Asvera Administrative Center. "Some of the humans weren't happy about us taking over that one," he admits, and it's still an ongoing dispute so he sounds a little more stressed over this than the matter of the herd. "Something about blasphemy or something like that. But we needed every building we had, when our people arrived, and it had the space, so if they want to back to using it once a week we'll need somewhere else to put our offices." The life of a king is far less glamorous than Odin had made it sound, isn't it?
At last they arrive at the greenhouse. It's a new building, constructed sometime in the past year or so, still faintly smelling of fresh timber on the outside. The green-tinted glass is fogged from inside, drops of moisture hinting at the warmth within, and Thor leads the way into the garden, and its riot of green. Neat rows of plant beds run wild with color, vines and leaves and sprouts grown tall and lush. Most of the plants on one side seem to be vegetables and fruits - tomatoes, beans, carrots, turnips, and onions among others - while the other side hosts a wide variety of herbs - chamomile, dandelions, sage, henbane, and many more. Native bees buzz docilely around the flowers of both, a hand-built hive recessed into one wall with access to inside as well as outside. One plant bed is not quite overgrown yet, a creeping green carpet that may bear cloudberries, in time. To Loki's magical senses, this is a place absolutely steeped in it, fertility magic soaked into the very soil itself after a year of constant tending, the center of power in the little village that radiates outward into the land and seas beyond.
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Thor begins walking again, slipping out from under Loki's hand casually as he turns to point out where the village goats are kept. Not small, bony things like Earth tends to raise, but good strong Vanir stock, large enough to rival a good sized pony, with healthy curling horns and ruggedly shaggy fur. "Most of the milk in the village comes from our own herds now. Gyda Elofsdottir makes cheese and soap from it, too. It's not quite enough to sell to outsiders but I'm told the human tourists will want it, once that starts up again. We might need to expand even further onto the mainland if we want a bigger herd, they'll eat everything on the islands if we don't." He chuckles at the thought, and points out a church to their left, a fresh new wooden sign proclaiming it to be the Asvera Administrative Center. "Some of the humans weren't happy about us taking over that one," he admits, and it's still an ongoing dispute so he sounds a little more stressed over this than the matter of the herd. "Something about blasphemy or something like that. But we needed every building we had, when our people arrived, and it had the space, so if they want to back to using it once a week we'll need somewhere else to put our offices." The life of a king is far less glamorous than Odin had made it sound, isn't it?
At last they arrive at the greenhouse. It's a new building, constructed sometime in the past year or so, still faintly smelling of fresh timber on the outside. The green-tinted glass is fogged from inside, drops of moisture hinting at the warmth within, and Thor leads the way into the garden, and its riot of green. Neat rows of plant beds run wild with color, vines and leaves and sprouts grown tall and lush. Most of the plants on one side seem to be vegetables and fruits - tomatoes, beans, carrots, turnips, and onions among others - while the other side hosts a wide variety of herbs - chamomile, dandelions, sage, henbane, and many more. Native bees buzz docilely around the flowers of both, a hand-built hive recessed into one wall with access to inside as well as outside. One plant bed is not quite overgrown yet, a creeping green carpet that may bear cloudberries, in time. To Loki's magical senses, this is a place absolutely steeped in it, fertility magic soaked into the very soil itself after a year of constant tending, the center of power in the little village that radiates outward into the land and seas beyond.