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So much grabbing, groping, peeking, twittering, chatting.

"Yes, Herryk is a draugr. He does not remember where he came from. Herryk has fought a few battles -- he is undead so he does not remem -- oh no, not a wife no no --"

Herryk cast Freya a look that fairly begged for rescue. He had never in his life had to deal with so many questions, so many grabbing, rubbing hands.

"Herryk is not single, and he is very serious when he says that he is Freya's boilfriend." Fearing it would be rude to rip himself away from the ghouls, Herryk cleared his throat and slowly started creeping towards Freya. Maybe if he just ... held her hand, they would get the picture.

Once they were safely out of ear shot of Sif, Hel looked back at Mot, grimacing.

Her expression said she was sorry, but she just couldn’t get the words to come out of her mouth at the moment, and her gaze shifted back to the front as she pulled the reaper into the kitchen. As soon as they entered, a whole slew of different aromas filled the air. It was dinner time, obviously, and laid out on a rather long and large table were multiple dishes and plates just filled with food. It looks like they were preparing to feed a small army…well…they were! That’s not what had Hel’s attention though, no, it was an older valkyrie who was hovering over quite a few cast iron pots with a ladle in hand.

“Ah, Mama!” The ghoul called out, releasing Mot’s wrist now as she dashed over to the valkyrie at the stoves. Said valkyrie turned around, and it was apparent who all the sisters were clones of. Valdis, Freya and Hel’s mother, was grinning from ear to ear as she held her arms open wide, enveloping her youngest in a tight hug. “Ah! There yeh are, Hel! I was wonderin’ when yeh and yehr sister would show! So good to see yeh again!”

Where as before, Sif had turned a cold blue gaze on Mot, when Valdis looked over to the cowboil, it was a blue gaze full of warmth. “Ah! Yeh brought yehr friend!” She released her daughter, and immediately started to head towards Mot in ground eating strides. He would be given no warning as he found himself wrapped in the older Valkyrie’s arms, more or less squished against her and her bosom. She held him tightly for a long moment before releasing him, and a hand came to rest on his shoulder as she looked down at him, dismayed. “My goodness! Boil, yehr like a bird! Doesn’ yer mama feed yeh?” Where as before Sif was mocking, Valdis was saying this much like a mother would over their child. With warmth and all the doting affection of a very motherly figure. She poked Mot in the ribs. “Ah, tha’ will not do!” She then planted her hand on his shoulder, and guided him over to the table. “I was waitin’ on the others, but yeh go ahead and start, bird boil! Yeh needs it!”

--

Everything seemed to grow quiet again, especially as the sisters laid off for now after that outburst. It wasn’t because they were afraid of Freya, oh no…it was because Sif was standing in front of the doorway, arms crossed, and at complete attention to what just transpired. Oh ho…this was way more interesting than Hel and her scrarecrow.

The corners of Sif’s lips pulled upwards as she looked down at Freya with a tilt of her head. “…Ah…what’s this I hear, dearest Freya? Your…beau?” Sif cooed. “Oh my…you sure do move swiftly, my dearest younger sisters and ah…you know…” A finger came up to tap her chin. “Why my dear sister…” Her tone was sweet, too sweet. “Your beau very much reminds me of father…how quaint ~”

Herryk bit back the smile brought on by Freya's outburst. It didn't matter that she'd immediately slapped her hands against her mouth -- what had mattered was that she'd said it.

As they approached the older ghoul, Herryk gave pause. It was almost a relief that Sif wasn't fawning all over him. Despite that, there was something about her words that struck a wrong chord with Herryk.

He couldn't tell if that was supposed to be an insult or not.

Part of him thought it was -- the way she said it, her tone of voice. The other part of him wondered why she would have anything terrible to say about her own father. Herryk did what he thought would be considered polite. After all, it was important for him to make a good impression.

"Herryk thanks Freya's sister." Those words were paired with a brilliant smile, far too brilliant to be anything but genuine.

Hel was honestly relieved that her mother was taking to Mot so well. At least someone was. The fact that her mother insisted on trying to feed him was a very good indicator that she liked him! Valdis didn’t offer the food she worked hard to prepare to someone she thought undeserving. Unfortuantely…Hel knew this was not a good situation for Mot. His pleading look did not go unnoticed, and the reaper gave him a reassuring grin.

No worries!

The youngest valkyrie started to move over to him, when she stumbled as the whole house shook.

Uh oh.

Valdis gave Mot’s shoulder a firm, affectionate squeeze as she looked up at the floor above them. “Ah! There’s yehr father! I was wonderin’ where tha lazy bones was.” She watched as her husband came into the kitchen, not at all phased by the way his voice boomed or how all her kitchen supplies shook, rattled, and nearly rolled. Nope. This was the norm in the Brynhildr house hold.

While it was the norm, Hel looked like she was on the verge of a panic attack now.

The youngest valkyrie simply looked horrified as her father addressed Mot as a tooth pick, and then proceeded to pick him up and try to use him as one. Hel flipped her lid. Hel leapt up and over the table, flapping her wings wildly to get that extra bit of height. “NO!” She shrieked, her arms outstretch as she lunged for Odin. “HE’S NOT A TOOTHPICK!” Hel collided with her father, though it did absolutely nothing make him stagger, but he could find his youngest daughter attached to his face like a face-nomming alien. Hel wrapped her arms tightly around Odin’s head, wailing “Put him down right now!”

Valdis, still, looked rather unalarmed, though she did give a loud and hearty laugh at these antics. “Oi, dear, put the poor boil down, yeah? I needs to make him plump, then maybe yeh won’ mistake him for a toothpick!”

--

Sif tilted her head in Herryk’s direction, looking him over, once again, calculating. The expression her on face said that wasn’t suppose to be a compliment, but I’ll take your gratitude anyways. “You are welcome, Herryk.” Sif returned, sliding her gaze back over to Freya. It was delightful to see her try and counter…only to not.

The older valkyrie’s brow twitched at the nickname, but still, her composure remained flawless. “Well…I suppose there is comfort in familiarity, eh, sister?” At the rumbles and the sounds that mimicked an earthquake, Sif turned her attention back to the inside. “…Dinner must be ready ~ Shall we?” The older valkyrie turned with a flourish, her snow white wings snapping behind her as she sauntered back into the cottage. Immediately after, a line of gaggling sisters followed, one giving Herryk’s a** a firm slap.

Herryk had moved to the side to allow the train of valkyries pass by. He stiffened when one reached forth to land a slap against his a**. Well, that hadn't been ... okay, it had been terrible, Herryk wasn't going to lie, but the sight of Freya being so fiercely possessive had boosted Herryk's ego.

It was plain to see that being so touchy-feely was something pretty normal in the Brynhildr home.

"Is Freya okay?" The words were a softly mumbled whisper. It would be interesting to see how the rest of the evening played out. Herryk wasn't sure if he felt eager or terrified (or a mixture of both) to meet Freya's father, but from the screeching and shrieking coming from inside the house, Herryk doubted that he had it half as bad as Mot did.

Odin roared with laughter, and as did Valdis as well when Mot oh so boldly started making proclamations. “Oh no, yeh got’s it wrong, Raven bird boil! We’ll put meat on yehr bones so that yeh do not blow away with the next gust, eh?” The mother chuckled, and once Mot was dropped she came over to help the cowboil back to his feet, reaching up to ruffle his hair. “Papa is quite a silly bumpkin, eh? But ‘ere.” She guided Mot right back to the table again, this time in a seat that would be furthest away from Odin. “This is where Hel sits, anyways. Now eat, Raven bird boil, eat!”

As if that wasn’t good enough, Valdis then started to scoop some things onto the reaper’s plate for him to get him started, but shifted her attention once Freya and Herryk entered. She ruffled Mot’s hair once more, and then brightened once more at the sight of the two. “Freya!” She called merrily, “Now all meh daughters are in the kitchen!” She just seemed to be cooing this, and then shifted her attention over to Herryk. “Ah, our other guest!” Much like with Mot, she went up to the large boil and just pulled him into a tight hug. “Welcome, welcome! So glad yeh could make it! It warms meh to see more friendly faces amongst us.” She then planted a hand on the draugr’s shoulder and guided him right over to the table as well. Despite the fact he was like fifty Mots combined, Valdis still felt the need to get him on his way to stuffing his face as well. “’Ere yeh are.” She showed him to a seat at the table. “Please, help yehself! There is plenty!” Valdis planted her hands on her hips, and watched with pride as the rest of her daughters started to seat themselves.

Sif took her usual spot near the head of the table besides where Odin would usually sit, just watching everything that was going on with that usual calculating gaze as she poured herself some cider. As for the other sisters…? Well, Freya might want to stop being a daddy’s ghoul…because they were rapidly claiming and fighting for the spots next to Herryk.

Hel was immediately relieved when Mot was dropped, but she was still feeling rather exasperated, to be sure. She socked her father once more in the side of the head in frustration (though it was terribly uneffective), and allowed herself to be hugged. “No, I will not use my teeth, papa! That is a terrible idea and it shouldn’t apply to my friend!” The youngest valkyrie huffed, though now she did return the hug, wrapping her arms tightly around Odin’s head before releasing him. As Freya finally made her entrance, Hel wiggled out of his grasp, landing on the floor with a thud. She was still shaking a bit from the outburst, but quickly scrambled to claim a seat back next to Mot before the table filled up. Thank goodness all the sisters were still fighting over Herryk right now.

Once in her seat, she looked over at the cowboil wide eyed. “Are you alright?”

Well, Freya's father certainly was a giant of a man. Herryk felt nearly dwarfed by the behemoth, but it was interesting to see the dynamics of the family. Herryk was content enough to linger along the outskirts until Valdis caught sight of him. Herryk beamed at Freya's mother. There was only one thing troubling Herryk, and it wasn't the sisters fawning over him, nor was it the giant of a father whose attention was currently on Freya. No, it was the food.

All of the food.

Herryk, being undead, did not really have an urge to eat. Herryk also did not have an urge to upset the family and their generosity. In fact, aside from the bite of lobster that Herryk had eat --- maybe that was not such a proper train of thought.

"Herryk thanks mother of Freya and Hel," he dipped his head, politely dodging the grappling and groping hands of the herd of sisters.

While everyone was busy settling into their seats Hel quickly reached across Mot for his plate, switching it with her empty one. The lost look on the cowboil’s face didn’t go unnoticed and true to how he thought well, yeah, she was feeling bad. She offered him a tentative, reassuring smile, though she muttered something under her breath that sounded like “terrible fibber”, and then chuckled a bit. “Ah…yes…thank you?”

Once everyone started settling, Valdis clapped her hands. “Alright all of yehs, start eating! Our guest traveled a long way and need to replenish their strength, and we all ‘ave a big day ahead of us tomorrow, eh? Eat, eat!” The mother valkyrie took her seat beside her husband then, and then the table was a free for all of grabbing hands and shifting plates and bowls.

Sif, had been quiet while everyone was getting settled for dinner (and that was never a good thing). Eventually her icy blue gaze settled on Freya. “…So, my dear younger sister…” She drawled, “You must be improving in leaps and bounds in strength at the Academy….yes?”