Words for Wednesday :: Thora & Gylfi 10

Finally I got myself pried away from gardening, Tour de France and other chores and projects and finished the next chapter in my continuing story of Thora and Gylfi. The Words were:

Fish
Kettle
Black
Human
Cloister
Serene
     And/or
Flagstone
Quarry
Bush
Rowan
Finnish
Mango

I continue where I left off, using the words in the order they were given as usual - only not mango. It did not fit in.

 Some days later, Gylfi was out fishing. He did not use any magic, but still he caught enough fish for dinner and some more, he gutted them and returned home.
Thora had been working in the garden, tending the early greens and encouraging them to grow, at the same time discouraging the aphids and other pests from eating their edibles and instead eating those that Thora and Gylfi regarded as weeds. She picked some early greens and flowers and herbs. Potatoes were still to be had in the root cellar, as were various cabbages and other roots. Soon the potatoes were simmering, and the other greens cleaned and cut. She buttered a huge pan and spread the roots and greens in it. Then she filled the herbs and spices in a glass, cut them with her scissors and added salt. This she would sprinkle over the fish before consigning them to the oven. She also filled the kettle with fresh water; black tea to warm them both after a day spent in the still cool Icelandic spring was a luxury they did not want to do without, they were human after all, and the warmth spell demanded much mental energy to maintain.  

While she waited for Gylfi to return home, she said her evening devotions. She looked at the photo of the cloister from the former Carmelite monastery in Elsinore. That place exuded a serene, almost holy atmosphere even from the old black and white photo. She wanted to go there again soon. The flagstones in the photo caught her eyes. A legend told that if you stayed in the cloister on a night where the moon was full, Kirstin Munk, the morganatic wife of king Christian IV, was supposed to appear where the light of the full moon fell on a certain flagstone.
Thora did not believe this to be true. But the old monastery held a fascination to her. She was awakened from her wool-gatherings by her owl, Brúnleita, that landed on the window sill with a small bird in it's sharp claws. Thora rose, and gently asked Brúnleta to let go of her quarry.
Protesting, but knowing that Thora was the master, the owl let go of the still fighting bird. Thora held it carefully and examined it with eyes and magic. Miraculously it had only a few punctures to the skin, nothing internal was damaged, only squeezed a bit. Thora gently placed the small bird in a bush under a huge rowan tree and put a protecting spell on it. The spell would wear off, but now it stood a chance.
Thora gave Brúnleita one of the savoury biscuits she kept for this purpose, and told her not to bring birds into the house. "If you must catch birds, eat them before you come here," she said sternly. The owl hooted softly and flew off to the rowan tree to sulk and eat her biscuit. Thora laughed to herself. She suspected the owl of deliberately bringing in an unharmed bird now and then to get the treats.
The phone rang, and as Thora picked it up and said: "Hello, Thora speaking," a lot of statics and a jumble of words followed. For a second Thora was about to hang up, then she recognised Taavi's voice and the Finnish word for hello. She quickly pulled out her wand and cast the language spell, hoping it would work through the telephone as well. It did, and Taavi told Thora that he and Tähti were on their way to the portal in Turku.

"Great," Thora said. "Have you decided to brave the portals alone?"
---
"Yes, fine! Just wait in the cave and I or Gylfi will be there -- See you! - Bye."

... to be continued