Thoughts at the End of a Day

Recorded: March 2, 2014
Characters: Frigga, Odin
Location: Asgard Palace - Odin and Frigga's Chamber
Summary: The King and Queen talk about events of the day, and their concern with one son in particular.


It has been a long day of sitting on the Grand Throne and hearing nobles make their cases. Frigga has retired to the royal bedchamber for the time being and wanders barefoot across the bear skin rugs until she finds her way to the balcony. The moon shines brightly in the clear sky over Asgard, and the queen leans on the balcony railing to observe how moonlight casts a serene glow over the palace garden. She still wears her green gown, etched with Nordic patterns in gold thread, but she has let her endless curls fall away from the mountain they previously formed on the top of her head. At any moment, her maidens will be called to help her into her evening wear but for now, the All-Mother of Asgard enjoys a moment of silent reflection, and a goblet of wine.

While she attended to affairs of state, Odin was handling his own. He still oversees much of the training that goes on with their men and while he did make an effort to try and get to the throne room to help her with holding Court, the winds were not in such favor this day.

The lightly muted steps of the All-Father enter the room, the lighter armor that he wears amongst the palace added with the swirl of cloak that falls behind his movements. Gungnir is not in hand, nor is his helm. Though finding Frigga standing there so, he pauses just outside the balcony arch, his single blue eye watching her.

For all rights — he deserved her ire. And under his own moments of reflection since their last deeper conversation, he has his faults but he is not a stupid man. He is luckier beyond anything he would admit. If it weren't for damn stubbornness. "Frigga." He greets in a lighter tone — almost not wanting to interrupt her reflection.

The Queen of Asgard tears her gaze away from the serenity of the garden to offer her husband a tired smile. "The House of Sten continues to raise the issue of the House of Harn's sheep grazing so close to their land. They have walls between them, and yet they would rather see one's herd slaughtered or the other's crops burned to the ground before they give quarter." She sighs away the trivial matters that still linger on her mind and turns to wander back indoors.

"Petty." Odin's features shift in a mild frown. Some of the nobles pull worse antics than their boys do. And that is saying something. As she moves within, Odin shifts his step to be out of her way. He turns as she passes, or if she lingers nearby, a hand will lightly grace the small of her back. "What counsel did you give them?"

Frigga lets one hand lightly flick at the air and slap against her thigh. "The same as I have always done. As there is now a wall between them, their quarrel has no ground. Harn's sheep have not tasted Sten's barley in many seasons. If they are still offended by their neighbors then they may look to other acres for comfort." She lets loose a more comforted sigh at the feeling of his hand. "Both houses have supplied the people of Asgard with much, and I do not know why they have such difficulty celebrating their mutual contributions."

"They are much like children trying to outdo one another. One cannot be content with being equal in recognition, they must be greater." Though by tone, Odin is more annoyed than pleased at such venture. "Where they cannot recognize their importance as smaller pieces to a larger whole is their own foolheart." Fingers shift against the small of her back in that light, comforting touch before drawing away. He is still in armor, and this must be remedied.

Over to the rack that holds Gungnir and his helm at the moment, he begins working the buckles at his bracers, removing them first to settle on the stand. Idle movements that he has done so many times before. "They will either realize and become stronger or work themselves into ruin pitting against each other. If it becomes further hostile, it may be best to force them both to relocate."

Frigga moves for the table where her wine jug rests, returning her goblet to its side. "They lay equal claim to the best fields in our kingdom. That they argue over it is no surprise to either of us, but as long as they keep to their own acres, I see no reason to displace them. There are more important matters than the offense of two landowners."

"If their squabble effects the pull and yield to the people — it is well to mind it." Odin states in return, but he allows it to lie. Breastplate is next — pauldrons. Cloak. Though he isn't moving particularly fast. There is no need. Once dressed down to the simplier shirt beneath, trousers and boots, he turns once again to face her. "Did I interrupt your drink, my queen?"

Frigga shakes her head and moves her arm in another throwaway gesture. "There is much on my mind as of late. I am sure you are aware of it in your own way." She drifts to a fainting couch near an ever-burning fireplace and settles close to the flame, focusing on its dancing light. "Heimdall sounded the Gjallerhorn today but it was a falsehood. A denizen of Muspelheim somehow breached the Bifrost, but the Sentry ended him, and saw no others seeking to follow. While I do wonder if their ilk are getting restless, I am more thoughtful about our sons' reaction to the perceived alarm." The All-Mother glances over her shoulder at her husband. "I had them all in court, you know. Discussing matters. When the sound was raised, Tyr did well to rally them, but their individual zeal…" She huffs lightly, expressing her frustration. "It was hardly there for some. Barely there for others. If it had been a true emergency, their speed of action would have ended us all."

Steps cross towards the couch, though he stands behind it, resting his hands on the edge as he looks over her and into the fire in thought. "Many are growing restless. Even Jotunheim stirs." Odin's head dips a fraction in pensive thought at that, his expression grim. "In the hopes of my stepping back would allow them more room to unite, it seems a false whim."

Those aged features draw further into a frown as his thoughts continue. "I shall make myself more available to you, to them and the Court. For their tempering needs guidance."

"They must learn to follow the guidance they have been given," Frigga rebuts. "Long have I wondered when will come the day when you and I may take comfort in the fact that the Nine Realms will be taken care of in our absence." Her brow furrows as she thinks of her adopted son's homeland. "I have turned my eye to Jotunheim since spending time there thinking myself one of their people." The All-Mother lifts her gaze to find Odin's. "My king, I think it is soon time that we broker new deals with Laufey. We should seek the betterment of their kind, so that they may finally know peace with ours. I have a plan for how this may be done."

Even with her rebuttal, Odin seems far from put off from his chosen course. He has been far too quiet in the eyes of the court and this must change. He cannot be seen as a weakling, even while they groom their sons to care for the realms for when it is time.

"Laufey is rare a dealing man. The brokered agreement of last was barely held and broken by children." Odin frowns. Though as she mentions a plan, his blue eye lowers to her. "I will hear it."

Frigga gestures to nothing in particular. "It is not to be enacted yet, but it will involve his son and ours: Loki. I know you took him in your care purely out of obligation, but I see an opportunity to communicate with the Jotuns through him. I have put it in his mind that when the time is right, he is to be an ambassador for Asgard to Jotunheim. He is the son of the two worlds, and it is his duty to bridge them together." She pauses briefly, but does not hesitate to speak her next words. "Also, as he is an ally to Asgard and heir to the Jotunheim throne, he would be an ideal candidate to supersede Laufey, should the need arise to depose him."

"An Ambassadorial role would suit him. It may also offer to answer questions that plague him. He is a far too curious boy at times." Odin exhales a slow breath, his gaze lifting from her to settle upon the licking flames of the firelight. "He was born to be a King and destined to die as a babe. If only he would realize his fortune and focus less on discord." A pause. "He listens to you far better than I."

Frigga nods. "He does, though as of late I have been required to speak harshly to him to gain his understanding." She sighs and rises from her seat. "I worry that he feels too displaced by the presence of your sons. Thor was so confident that they could all be united under one roof, but…" The ill thought is left to linger as the queen moves for the room's entrance. "I must shed this gown and my burdens of the day. I will be in the bathing room with my maidens."

"Harshness is about the only thing he understands at times." Though there is a flicker of burning flame in his blue orb. He's had to show rage and fury to the God of Mischief more than once to get him to listen. Though he does not seem surprised at the mention of Loki feeling displaced. "I will await you." He bids in light dismissal, turning to step onto the balcony that she had graced when he first arrived. Hands go to rest on the banister as he looks over the darkened night, expression pensive—but thoughts his own.

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