They come up to the small eatery; several tables are set outside under an awning, despite the cold. "Table for two?" he asks the attendant. "Of cousre, sir," she beams. "Inside or out? We've got a nice fire inside, but some folks like the fresh air out here, and to watch the festivities. We've got plenty o' hot drinks to keep you toasty." Turning to Immalaine, he asks. "Inside or out?"
Immalaine shivers a bit, but looks around again. "I reckon out here's good 'nough. If I'm too cold, I can always hide under yer cloak!" She grins and chuckles, leaning against Rastellion happily, who raises an eyebrow at this. "Not that I'd mind... but isn't the cloak we just got you warm enough?" He smiles over at the attendant, waiting on them. "Outside, then... perhaps something set back a bit from the street though." He indicates a spot in one corner. "Certainly, sir," says the server, and leads the way.
Settling onto the bench next to Rastellion, Immalaine looks around at people wandering by. "Tell me, dear, what are ye thinkin'," she says, turning to Rast and seeing his face creased in concentration.
Rastellion blinks. "What? Oh, nothing really. Just what that fellow said. Made me wonder how..." He breaks off as a server comes up. "Hello sir, lady. We've got herbed lamb stew today, with fresh bread and winter greens, or, if you prefer, a thick vegetable soup and roast chicken. I'd suggest the lamb, meself, though the soup's good too, if you like winter squash. An', of course, we've got the winterberry ale, cold or mulled." Rastellion leans back on his bench slightly. "Seems everyone here's proud of the ale..." he begins. "Oh, aye sir, it's what we're known for! Why we've had orders come in from as far as the Iron Hills for our ale. Made from our local winter wheat and fresh-picked winterberries. Soon as the festival's over, whole town'll be turning to harvesting the berries and preparing casks for next year's crop!" Rastellion nods slowly. "So, what'll it be?" the waitress asks. He turns to Immalaine and gestures for her to order first. Immalaine thinks about the options carefully, before turning to look up at the server. "I think the vegetable soup sounds good. An' a mulled ale ..." Finishing her order, she turns back to Rastellion.
Rastellion looks back to the young woman. "Stew for me, please. Mulled ale as well." She nods and smiles, "That'll be a silver each for the food, plus another 3 for the two ales." Rastellion blinks. "That much for the ale?" The server smiles. "Of course! It is our specialty. Folks from distant lands send for it special!" Rastellion chuckles, "Okay, okay, so you said. That'll be fine." The girl nods and hurries inside with their order. He shakes his head slightly, watching her go. "It really is all about the drink," he mutters. "Ought to call it Ale-home, not Winter-home..."
A brief giggle escapes her lips, hearing his muttered comment, and she gives him a quick jab in the side with her elbow. "We should be more fair t' them. After all, other than th' festival, they have t' have something they can make coin on during the rest o' the year." Rastellion sighs. "I know. Just ... can't shake the feeling I'm a sheep being fleeced. My pa would've turned right round and gone back t' Bree. You've no idea how hard it it t' get coin out of him! Like pullin' a warg's teeth!" He chuckles and makes a throwing-away gesture, as if trying to push away the family habits of frugal living. "Still, we're here to relax and enjoy."
Leaning up, she kisses Rastellion on the check, before settling closer to him. She leans her head on his shoulder and sighs contentedly as she waits for the food t' arrive. "Well, jus' think. When we get back, I can cook e'ery night fer ye, an' then ye'll be savin' coin ... not spendin' it." Rastellion chuckles. "Oh, don't worry. I've got the coin. It's the feeling fleeced I mind more than the paying." He chuckles. "Guess I just prefer t' be the one doing the fleecing!.. Ah!" He breaks off as the server returns with their food. She looks apologetic. "If you want refills on the ale, you'd best say so now... seems the keg's running low. New one should've been here by now." She shakes her head. "You'd not believe how quickly we go through the stuff during the festival!" Immalaine watches as the server sets their food in front of them, eying her soup in anticipation, as she turns to look at her mug of ale. "Mebbe /he/ might," she says to the server, "But I'm thinkin' this'll be plenty fer me." She smiles at the woman in thanks, before picking up her spoon to stir her meal.
Rastellion shakes his head. "I'll be fine with just the one." He gives the waitress a friendly smile. "How much do you go through?" he asks, casually. "Oh, least a keg a week ... two, when it's been busy, like these last few days." She grins. "Folks appreciate quality, after all. My pa, he works down at the distillery - well, most families here've got someone in the business, one way or t'other, and... oh!" A patron down the way is waving to catch her attention. "But listen to me, nattering away when I've got work t' do. You enjoy the food, now, let me know if you're needin' anything." And she scurries off.
As Immalaine listened to the woman prattle on, she had begun eating the thick vegetable soup, the herbs and various root vegetables mixing well with the flavor of the squash. Nodding, one could almost hear her mind work as she tried to figure out how it had been made. Between bites, she turns to Rastellion to see what he thought of his stew, only to see him just picking at it, distracted, his lips moving silently. Eventually he takes a bite or two, but almost seems oblivious to the fact that he's eating. Immalaine sets her spoon down, a crease forming in her brow as she bites her lip and worries that Rastellion is more upset about the large amount of coin he'd spent than he let on. She lifts the warm ale and takes a sip, then stares into the mug, her frown deepening. "This mug tastes ... different ... from th' last one we had at th' theatre." She turned, offering Rast her mug, to taste himself. "Hm?" He takes the proffered mug and tries a sip. "Hm, maybe. Probably just the mulling spices. Almost seems a shame to treat expensive ale that way..." He trails off again, then asks, apparently at random. "Your pa made applejack, right? Like Pierson said? Took a lot of apples, didn't it?"
Immalaine looks at him, wondering where he was going with the sudden change of topic, but shrugs and nods. "It did take a fair 'mount o' apples t' make up a batch o' it, though I don't recall 'xactly how much. Only that it seemed like it was an awful lot." Rastellion nods slowly. "Same with th' moonshine my pa used t' make out in the shed. Must be the same with ale, too." He looks around the village. "Waitress said they went through one or two kegs a week during festival. An' they're hardly the only eatery. Not t' mention the theatre and other such places." He turns to look at her. "How do they make so much, then. You saw th' fields when we were out throwin' snowballs and gatherin' for the snowman." His frown deepens. "How're you going to get all these barrels o' ale from that. Berries, sure, you saw how th' hillsides are covered with those bushes; there'd be enough. But the wheat..." Immalaine looks around the town, as she ponders the question. Th' berries had been fairly plenty on the ground around the town, but being the winter, there was not a field to be seen beneath the thick blanketing of snow on the ground. "They could be havin' it brought from ways, but that would cost plenty, an' th' wheat would not be fresh 'nough to make anything decent wit', by th' time it arrived here. Or, mebbe they stock up afore the festival starts, durin' th' planting season? But, if that were th' way o' it, then they'd have t' keep th' wheat somewhere. That much wheat wouldn't be layin' 'bout, fer th' critters would get t' it afore it could be mashed into anything drinkable." She turns to Rastellion, and looks at him as she mindlessly takes a bite. Rastellion muses. "Hmm, could be." He shrugs and digs into his stew. "Well, not our problem - other than payin' for the ale, that is." He chuckles and takes several quick bites. "Least th' food's good," he mumbles around a mouthful.
Immalaine nods and turns back to her soup, as the two eat in comfortable silence. Soon, she looks down, the bowl almost empty and pushes it away, leaning back to stretch. As she does so, a small pipe catches her eye, laying on the ground near the table. She grins and taps Rast on the shoulder, pointing down to it. "Mebbe we can use that fer the snowman we're buildin'" she says to him. Rastellion looks over, then grins and scoops it up. "More use than just lyin' there in the snow," he agrees, handing it to her. He looks up toward the winter sky. "Best we get back to that, too .. .fellow said judging would be before dusks, an' th' days are short now!”
Taking the pipe, she taps out the snow, and whatever else was in it, onto the ground nearby, before adding it to the rest of the items she had for the snowman. She pauses to look up at the sky and nods. "We should get back out and build this soon. An' I 'magine we'll have t' get back t' our rooms before long as well, else we'll be lookin' fer a warm spot t' sleep tonight!" Rastellion laughs. "Yes, whatever else we do, let's not cross our landlady... She's cross enough as 'tis!" He stands and offers her a hand up. Immalaine takes his hand, standing, before gathering the items up in her arms. "She's sure a fiesty one, she is." she says, grinning at him.
Rastellion looks at their collection. "Dare say we'll be able to make a snowman out of those.. but let's look around a bit more. See if we can find something truly special t' make yours stand out in the field." Immalaine looks down at everything they had gathered for the snowman, then looks back up at Rastellion curiously. "Somethin' special ye say? But what sort o' something?" she closes her eyes briefly, trying to think of something, shaking her head as she ponders. Rastellion loops his arm in Immalaine's starts strolling down the street. "Well, let's look around and see what catches our eyes." He glances over at her. "I saw a cobbler's shop there near the theatre, and I'm betting you'd like some new boots to go with your cloak, hm?..."
(Credits and love go to Rastellion, who provided the voice of the male characters in this story. *Blows kisses to Rastellion and grins widely*)
