Cozy Christmas Night

This was all still very new to Brynjar, being in a relationship, loving and being loved by someone. It wasn't a bad feeling in the slightest, but Brynjar was still filled with uncertainty. Happiness and uncertainty. And though Noel had been good to him and had been able to calm his guilt there was still a voice in Brynjar's mind, that told him he didn't deserve this happiness.
It had been almost a month, since Brynjar and Noel had confirmed their feelings to each other and had agreed to try and be in a relationship. Thus far it had been pleasant, and they were taking things slow for Brynjar's sake. He himself was aware that he had issues with his mental health, and without Noel's help Brynjar wouldn't be as well as he was now.

The two were spending Christmas at Noel's house, a cozy, warm cottage that made Brynjar think about home. He was borrowing Noel's kitchen and making some traditional Norwegian Christmas foods. Noel was the god of this season, Brynjar hoped he'd enjoy them.
Brynjar had just finished making the fattigmann cookies, and he had a small fish dish in the oven. Brynjar enjoyed this, doing something for Noel, quite literally. Brynjar turned his head to look at Noel, wherever he was, and smiled slightly.
"I finished making the dessert, would you like to taste? Although you probably aren't supposed to eat dessert first."

Christmas had never been especially close to Brynjar's heart, for a long time it had been just a day among others. But as he looked around in Noel's house, looked at his beloved, for the first time Brynjar could feel what others probably called Christmas spirit.
In a way Noel was that exact spirit given form, and Brynjar smiled gently as the man came to his side. Lately Brynjar often just looked at Noel with that smile on his face, a smile he had never directed at anyone else. A smile that contained all the affection Brynjar felt towards Noel.

"I won't argue with you on that. After all, it...would be nice if you tasted these sooner rather than later."
Brynjar answered, and took the mulled wine with a thank you and picked up one of the cookies himself. Instinctively, without realizing, Brynjar moved a bit closer to Noel as he looked down on the cookie, slightly worried.
"It's been a long time since...I last made these. So I can't make promises about the taste."

Mulled wine was the one thing was Brynjar had always enjoyed about Christmas, it was a drink of memories from his childhood when a lot less refined version had been served at their table. Before Brynjar had been sent to serve Thor. And he had drunk it with his brothers in arms on cold winter nights when a battle had reached a temporary seize. Those were the nice moments among countless bad ones.
And all the good and bad moments rose to his mind when Brynjar sipped the drink, and had a sad small smile on his face for a brief moment. Noel's hand on his arm made Brynjar reel back and he set down his own mulled wine glass to give the man's hand a small squeeze.

It was a relief Noel thought the cookies were delicious, and Brynjar bit into his own. Brynjar's cookie was a less well fried, he had a preference for them.
"Cardamom, and just a sprinkle of cinnamon. That's...how I learned to do it, the more traditional version."
It was how Brynjar's mother had made it, though Brynjar hadn't learned from her. Men didn't cook or bake in those times. Brynjar had learned from his descendants upon his visit to Norway, the family recipe was still alive.
"There is...a secret ingredient. Can you taste it?"
Brynjar asked, and looked at Noel curiously.

Even though Brynjar felt sad, it was bittersweet sorrow mixed with the happiness he was feeling in this moment. And on the second sip of mulled wine Brynjar's smile didn't have sadness in it anymore and he directed it at Noel.
"This is delicious."

Brynjar was surprised Noel got so close to guessing it right on his first try, and he nodded a bit.
"Close. I added small amount of lemon peel and juice. A friend taught it to me."

"Thank you. My friend was...quite the baker."
She had passed away just few years after Brynjar had enrolled into university in Norway, breast cancer. She had been a fellow student at the college Brynjar had attended. It had been the first genuine loss Brynjar had experienced after being freed from ice.

"I...cannot say I have. But making them with you...sounds delightful."
Brynjar smiled gently at Noel, learning baking from the man sounded wonderful. And learning new things was something Brynjar greatly enjoyed.
"I can teach you how to make more traditional Norwegian pastries. If you want."