Father to Sons

Recorded: March 5, 2014
Characters: Frigga, Loki, Odin, Vidar (NPC)
Location: Asgard Palace - Western Balcony
Summary: Odin has words with Loki and Vidar, then heads for dinner with Frigga and an unexpected guest.


It is well into the day and the light of daylight is still strong and warm across Asgard. Though the beautiful day is offset by the brooding Allfather that has taken to haunting the western balcony. Hands are set to the banister, his blue eye cast over the bustling city below in silence. Hermod was dismissed not too long ago and he hasn't summoned anyone else yet—doesn't mean he can't be happened upon all the same.

Loki steps into the corridor, wearing his formal tunic and leggings, his hair held back by thin braids. He folds his hands behind his back casually as he approaches the Allfather. He stands several yards back for a few moments, then draws in a deep breath and begins his approach. "Father, I seek an audience with you."

The ponderous and uncertain path of Vidar Odinson has taken him on an extended circuit of the castle; an unfortunate case of unfamiliarity rather than any desire to explore the surroundings. Everything here was too tame, civil and easy. It was unpleasant. "I was summoned." He bellows from behind Loki, the latter falling under his expansive shadow as he nears then begins to loom in the background. "I know not why."

Hearing the voice, there is a faint growl under his breath. He is already in a sour mood—and now here comes the cause. "Vidar, come." Odin gestures to the spanse and seating nearby, though he himself still stands. Only then, he turns to face Loki and the harsh glower is still there as he looks upon the trickster son. "Speak."

Loki drops his hands to his sides and sets his shoulders, looking at Odin with confidence and not allowing himself to be intimidated this time. "I have given a map of the pathways to mother. There is a matter I wish to discuss with you. I do not seek your permission, only your acknowledgement of my task so you are aware of it. I am going back to Midgard to join the team Thor has joined."

Vidar does as he is instructed, moving away from Odin and Loki to lean his bulk against the rail. He reaches up to remove the horned helm and drop it on the stone beside himself with a dull clank. His heavy jaw is set with scarring, dark hair cropped close to his brow. The eyes that observe the audience are a deep and familiar blue shared by most of the Sons of Odin, scuffed with a primitive twinkle.

"I know not he fine details of magic for I am a man." Vidar growls, reaching up to rub his hair into better condition. "Were I a creature more interested in avoiding glory, I would seize what I could by assisting in the sealing of these damned portals before fleeing to those fragile lands."

So Loki is being confident. And lying. Its perhaps a good thing he doesn't have Gungnir in his hand at the moment. Odin may be old and weathered, but it doesn't slow him by much. Steps are quick, large hand lifting to grab Loki by the throat and turn to slam his back against the wall of the curved balcony area none too gently. Vidar is widely ignored at the moment, but only for his ire being focused upon the Jotun son.

There is a low, dangerous growl to his voice as he narrows that one eye on the dark haired boy. "You continue to lie to me. And I bet that map is far from all inclusive." Though the fire of his tone is the brewing storm that threatens something far worse if Loki pushes him. "Thor has joined no such affinities on Midgard."

Loki reaches up to the large hand that holds his throat, trying to pry it loose so he can breathe. He winces when he's slammed against the wall, feet scuffing on the floor. "I'm not lying~" he chokes out, "I thought Thor joined the Avengers." He struggles to draw in breath, his eyes looking at Vidar as if pleading for help. "The map is complete. She burned it."

"If he would put his life on the line is there issue in his quest?" Vidar asks Odin, replying to Loki's silent plea with the closest to mercy the vengeful god can muster. He pushes himself from the edge with a grunt, tilting his head to peer down at the strangled Loki with a raptor's glare. "He is the weakest of us, father. If there is a group of mortals that may help him purge that weakness, then it is with that team he belongs." Vidar replies, searching for Loki's eyes with a dark frown. "Our eyes will all fall upon him in the realm of man. Every sin a strike against, every honor a boon to his name."

"If I find out otherwise, you will not survive the following meet. Treason will be met with a swift hand." Odin glares at Loki, his hand tightening for that fraction of a moment to make his point until he suddenly releases him. It is likely by Frigga's grace that he is as lenient as he may be in this moment. There is a small fraction of a nod given to Vidar, even while his blue eye remains firm on Loki. "Join this group if that is your wish."

Loki drops down to his knees, coughing and gasping, holding his throat. When he finally finds his voice, he stands up and straightens out his tunic. "I am not weak, I am simply stronger in other areas. You are physically strong and I am mentally strong, using magic rather than strength. Doubt me if you both will, but I will succeed. You wish for me to become ambassador to Jotunheim and become their King? I will succeed in that goal as well. But have care how you speak. Should you continue to push me, you may not find it peace you receive when I take the throne from Laufey. Good day, father. Vidar." He turns on his heel and storms back down the corridor in anger, hands balled into fists at his sides.

"It is no coincidence that our other mages are women." Vidar responds, flashing a sharp grin in Loki's wake and stomping towards Odin's side. Though he knows the situation is tense, Vidar continues to push tricksters buttons. Anger is good. Revenge will toughen Loki until he is firm and unyielding. Once the trickster wanders from sight Vidar brings his eyes back down to the Allfather. "Centuries have passed since last we spoke. How doest thou fare, father?"

As Vidar stomps toward Odin, he may find the floor beneath his feet suddenly extremely slippery. Loki heard that.
Loki disappears in a puff of dark green and black smoke.

The quips between the boys he hardly intervenes. Sons of Odin should be able to stick up for themselves and not need their father to coddle them. And so he doesn't. Odin tilts a frown at Loki's back, but there is little else said. Turning away, he steps back towards the banister—either not noticing or caring about Vidar's briefly slick predicament. "Depends on the day." His lips press thin. "He is a constant source of headache and creates more mess and discord than he aids." Odin grouses. "And you?"

"Were it not for his antics we fortunate few may find lapses in vigilance. We should thank him for the chaos he breathes into our lives; then, we should break his jaw and shatter his knees so that he may hobble back a stronger man." Vidar rumbles, baring the sharper edges of his teeth in a predatory smile. "Well. The others are strong of arm and spirit. I enjoy their camaraderie; when I do not train with them, I help the peasants break the land for crops and herd their great beasts."

Odin grunts halfheartedly under his breath, though the jaw breaking comment does draw a rumbled laugh from the aging All Father. "You do well for yourself, Vadir. I would expect no less." He concedes with a sense of approval. He would expect hard work from any of his sons. Honor and virtue have their own way with every man.

Vidar grinds the words through his head with a chew of his teeth. "A man does what he can." He replies, reaching overhead to draw the uru staff and twirl it before his eyes. "When I was but a child, you gifted this staff upon me so that I would avenge my mother's murder. That tribe has been slain; torn from the rustic patch of earth from whence they burrowed. Men, women, children. Gone." He recounts, face drawn dour in reflection. A rough smile returns to him as he returns it to the Allfather. "A fraction of the storm clings to the heart of the weapon. I return it to the lord of Asgard with my thanks."

At the moment, Odin stands at the railing, casting an eye out across the bustling day of Asgard that draws into the later afternoon. He is without helm, nor Gungnir. Having spoken with a few of his sons throughout the day. There might even be a vague imprint where Loki was pinned against the wall not too long ago. "And was revenge as sweet as you had hoped?" He does not accept it back just yet.

The pole remains extended towards Odin, though his chin dips as his eyes study the masonry of the firm floor beneath them. "No." He replies simply. Quietly. When his chin lifts again there is a fire burning behind those shimmering blue eyes and a hungry, toothy grin clenched along his brutal features. "T'was far sweeter than ever I could imagine."

"What sweetness do you speak of," the All-Mother wonders aloud as she emerges from the entrance to the balcony. The queen never fails to dress as though she were an ornate fixture to the palace's overall decor, and her flowing robe of bronze is no exception. Two maidens hang back in the hallway while she takes a few steps forward, smiling at her king though her eyes wonder if she should leave Odin and Vidar to their conversation.

Odin turns his eye to Vidar to watch him for the space of a few heartbeats. "I expected no less from you." Though only then does he lift a hand to accept the staff. As Frigga arrives, his free hand is held out to her in invitation. "A gift of long past come to fruition."

Apt prediction. Vidar turns at a feminine voice and bends knee with a grunt. He still may tower over the woman but he does his best to bow below. "When vengeance strikes true, my queen." He growls low, mirth palpable through his ursine voice.

Frigga moves to stand at Odin's side and nods to Vidar's attempted bow. "Ah. Just vengeance can be savored much like a well-cooked meal." She observes the distant sun's position. "Which we may all be due for, if like me you have not yet partaken."

"That should be remedied." Odin himself missed last meal with being fairly busy. Well. Mood had more to do with it than anything. He has been sour since Frigga told him about the portals. Though mood is improving ever so slowly. "Join us." This, extended to Vadir.

"As you wish." Vidar replies, pressing into his knee with a palm and striking a quickened pace towards the great hall. His intent is to provide the space Odin and Frigga may desire for any intimate conversation; he accomplishes this by vanishing around a dark corridor. Only the lumbering thud of his heavy bootsteps betray his distance and position.

Frigga's brow lifts high as she observes Vidar's eager rush. "You would think he had smelled the roasting stag from this distance," she comments, then looks up at Odin with an amused smirk.

"You would think he was Hermod." Odin chimes in mild amusement. Though a small shake of his head given, he offers Frigga his arm in polite escort none the less. "Loki came by earlier." A small gesture given to the slight indention on the wall. You can imagine how that went.

Frigga links her arm in Odin's and leans into him briefly, then glances at the damage to the balcony wall. "Was that completely necessary," she wonders aloud as they start walking together. The maidens wait at the entrance to the balcony, giving their king and queen some distance before following.

"He wasn't harmed." Just scared. With the lean against him, Odin draws her that slight bit closer. "He felt the need to lie of Thor joining a team on Midgard. Loki aims to join this group himself."

Frigga furrows her brow at this information. "A team? Thor would hardly have time for that where he is now. Unless he means to have joined some mortal band of warriors to test his diminished strength." She shakes her head and huffs. "Why would Loki even consider such a thing? I have already told him where his future lies. He must be our ambassador to Jotunheim. That he continues to avoid this duty and focus his attention elsewhere is vexing."

"I have allowed it. If he can manage to find worth and responsibility, then it would be better for him for when the time comes for him to become the Ambassador." Odin announces in a smooth tone, his attention where they are walking, though a brief glance is cast aside at her. "He seeks approval and purpose. If he fails at this, there is little hope for else."
From afar, Stephen pokes.

Frigga purses her lips and seems indifferent to the idea. "I trust the wisdom of my king," she states in sighed resolve. "If it will help him find his worth, then so be it. That is all I wish for him." As they continue towards the stair well, a guard approaches them.

"Your majesties. The Sorcerer Supreme has requested an audience with the All-Mother."

Frigga looks surprised, but no less pleased by this news. "See him to the dining hall. We will join him momentarily." She turns her bright smile to Odin. "We owe much to the Sorcerer Supreme for his aid to me when Fafnir remained unseen. Let us repay his kindness however we can."

There is a sage nod that Odin gives to Frigga's earlier words, though as the guard approaches, his attention shifts. As Frigga beats him to the command, his lips quirk ever so slightly at the corner. "I will hear him." He relents.

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