Odin's Son Has Questions

Recorded: April 15, 2014
Characters: Frigga, Thor
Location: Asgard Palace - Sitting Room
Summary: Thor speaks to Frigga about his birthright.


Another day is ending on Asgard. While some servants rush to finish their chores so they can head home, Frigga has stopped one of her maidens to get a good look at her. The maiden looks paler than normal and is obviously fatigued but was putting on a brave front all day. For her troubles, she's received a brief lecture from the All-Mother on seeing to one's health before seeing to one's duties. "Your well-being is more important than my companionship. Now please, see yourself home and rest as long as you need. Your sisters will do fine without you."

The rest from his extended quest is, for a change, being thoroughly embraced by Thor. He wanders in with casual, comfortable clothing as opposed to his usual, martial garb and just barely scoots past the afflicted maiden upon entry. His gaze lingers long and hard on her exit before he turns to Frigga. "Another is unwell?"

Frigga looks to her son's entrance with a calm smile. "Our people work themselves too hard at times. Even an Asgardian must know his limit, lest we are defeated by our own fatigue." She finds a long couch near the fireplace to sit on and spreads her arms along its back. "I am pleased that you are here now. Have you given up your needless quest to find strength from other sources?"

A somber silence follows Frigga's question as Thor turns a determined face to regard her. "Nay. Though it is true that I have been able to perform extraordinary feats without the aid of Mjolnir, there is but a new calling I have been made aware of."

"Oh?" Frigga gestures to the free space next to her. "Pray, tell me what you've discovered."

Thor draws a deep breath and claims the seat beside Frigga, draping both arms across his knees as he gazes into the stone at his feet. "I met Jord."

A wall of silence builds after Thor's statement. The All-Mother's shoulders become stiff, forcing her to sit up out of her relaxed position. "She made herself known to you," she asks in a whisper that carries equal amounts of surprise and dread.

Thor's golden head rocks into a slow nod. "Aye." He answers, rising to fall back into the wall, still refusing to meet the woman's eyes. "After I had slain those cultists I had attempted to repair the taint which they had visited upon the land. T'was then I found Jord."

Frigga draws in a sharp breath and casts her gaze to the fireplace. "And what did Jord say to renew your sense of purpose?"

"There was much yet untapped within me. I would touch more were I to meditate in the realm of my birth, for I am a prince of two lands." Thor replies, turning an iron stare to study Frigga's gaze thoughtfully. "Father had little to speak of the matter. Were I to be forthright, he had nothing to say of the matter."

"What would you have him say," Frigga wonders as she directs her eyes to his face. "What would you have me say? Did Jord not tell all there was to tell on the matter? Surely she has said enough, or you would not have made her visit known." Though her words are calm, there is a thin edge to her voice that vaguely denotes the soreness of this topic for her.

"I would have him say why. His eye had wandered before and I had discovered it myself. Bragi and Vidar. I know it has been difficult to accept them amongst us, but I had no notion I would be counted among them." Thor explains, gathering himself to his feet and looking down to Frigga with sorrow in his eyes. "Regardless of the blood that flows in my veins you are my mother. I know it well; you have cherished me at your bosom and crafted me into the man I am today. I fear my existence is an affront upon your honor."

Frigga shakes her head rapidly. "No child that I have raised is an affront to me. You are mine, Thor Odinson, and no matter how you came to be, it is I who have earned the right to call you son!" She shakes her head again and calms down, gesturing for him to take his seat again. "Jord is a giver of life. It is her nature to breed the strength of life in all things. She has birthed many gods and goddesses across the Nine Realms, but has been a mother to none of them. She gave your father what I could not, and that is my burden to bear. Do not think for one moment that it should be yours, my son, for such thoughts may darken your destiny." The All-Mother rests against the back of the couch and lets her gaze slip towards the nearest window. "There are far more important things than my honor. I have come to learn that over time."

"I am a tactical advantage and I recognize that." Thor declares, raking his fingers through his hair and collapsing back into the seat. "At times I question father's foresight. I question it even more with this revelation. If Loki was meant to bridge and eventually cement a relationship with Jotunheim, am I not meant to do the same for Midgard?" He poses, exposing his palms helplessly then studying each in turn. "Jord said it is because of her influence that I have been so drawn to the realm. It would explain much."

Frigga nods slowly. "You were meant to be a champion of Midgard, but long ago our king decided to severe ties with that realm." She takes a deep breath and returns her feelings to that deep recess where they've been hidden all this time. "You are also well of age, and our contact with the mortals has been re-established. All gods must do what we are chosen to, and though my heart would pain for you to be away from Asgard for any length of time, I know you owe much attention to the realm of your birth."

The moment feels inappropriate for the usual embrace, marred by something so somber. Thor rises to his feet and places a hand on Frigga's shoulder, offering a warm smile. "I will be their champion, but I will not forsake the kingdom. Nor will I forsake you. I am thankful to have grown beneath you. I hope to leave you with grandchildren to nag and chase after." He says, pinching his eyes into a wider grin. "For now, though, I think I shall retire for the evening and enjoy what sleep I can. Good night, mother."

Thor dips into a reverent bow and turns to stride towards the corridors leading to his bedchamber. There are, truthfully, few questions he has remaining to ask. At this point all he can do is meditate upon the answers he has been given. Perhaps find a maiden to warm his bed, as well.

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