"Sif! Come to mummy! Yes, come on, come on- oh my god, you're amazing!" Elizabeth laughed, spinning the grinning toddler around before hugging her tight. Across the tavern, there were various cheers and applauds, before Gormund at the bar called for the bets.
"House wins!"
A customer protested, "C'mon Gormund! The kid managed to walk ten steps! I bet on that!"
Gormund snorted, "No you didn't, Alfrid – you bet on ten steps and then a fall! The little 'un clearly didn't fall!" There were jeers from others as Alfrid glared and shouted an expletive at the bar-tender.
Elizabeth meanwhile, laughed at their antics, before kissing Sif's forehead. "My little raven – I can't believe how fast you're growing up, even with Iðunn's apples." She spoke wistfully, before the little girl started to squirm, wanting down. Putting her back on the tavern floor, she crouched down, watching as she toddled over to the nearest child, who caught her before she fell. They, then another few children then proceeded to make it a game, having Sif walk between them, catching her when she fell. To Elizabeth, it was still amazing how mature some of the children were. At times, it was like talking to another adult, but at others, like she was trying to talk grown-up to a baby. When responsibility was thrust on them, the children of Asgard could be trusted.
Satisfied she was safe, she stood up straight and went up to the bar, sipping an ale as a what looked to be half a platoon of soldiers came in – but they weren't soldiers, she suddenly realised with a burst of anger as she saw Odin in the middle of them, his bastard son Tyr by his side. Royal Guards. She looked to Sif, but the children were still keeping her occupied – they would for at least another two hours. Her human mind still went at the same pace, oddly enough, so time wasn't as short to her as it was to others. Children's attention-spans on Asgard were much greater than Earth children's.
Turning away from the crowd, she downed her ale, flipping one of her sickles onto the bar. "Give me something good." Usually she only paid with knuts, and even they were 'expensive currency' in Asgard. Gormund took the sickle, noting the weight and consistency with an impressed face, before handing her the best he had – and then handing Odin the dregs. Immediately eyes were on her.
"You." The King motioned to her. "Heimdall's sister." He glanced around, seeing Sif toddling to a child with a giggle. "Is that the young Sif, aye?"
"Indeed," she replied coldly, sipping whatever Gormund had given her, and instantly stopping, eyes wide. This is… She looked at Gormund sharply, "How did you get this?"
Gormund instantly got a blank face, shaking his head. "Father's secret recipe, milady-"
"Bullshit! This is Firewhiskey! I haven't had this in decades – and you're selling this at what I gave you?" Elizabeth gave a disbelieving shake of her head. "For the sake of your business, I won't say another thing about it, but really? Just one of my silver coins gets me a tankard?"
"You're the richest client I have," Gormund said nervously, glancing at Odin's inch of firewhiskey, "It would get you five."
"Wow," she immediately muttered, "No, I'm going to say something." She rummaged around her coin pouch, taking out eight galleons. "This is how much a third of this stuff is worth, Gormund. You're ripping yourself off." She put her money back, before looking to Odin. "Any reason the King of Asgard is visiting my favourite spot?"
Tyr sat up straight at her words, about to berate her most likely, when Odin put a hand to his chest, eyes following the flight of Morgan as she suddenly fluttered to drop on Elizabeth's shoulder. Elizabeth looked to her companion with a smile, stroking her feathers softly.
"What news have you got for me, Morgan?" She asked softly, before the three-eyed raven looked her in the eye, sending her a series of images, leading to a seaside cliff, a large, large part of which that had fallen into the sea, making a cove and island large enough to fit five Buckingham Palace's. "Lovely. You have excellent taste. You have already talked to Heimdall about builders?" Another image, of shell of a manse, ten times the size in both literal size and rooms themselves to Tom's would-be home, if his father had accepted him. Builders had already left, everything ready for decoration that could easily be done with magic. Elizabeth smiled. "How long have you been working on that, my pretty?" An image of Sif's thirtieth birthday flickered on the edge of her consciousness. "Oh, Morgan, you're amazing – I knew Iðunn was right about you!" She laughed softly, rubbing her forehead lightly against her beak. The raven cawed, nipping her ear in a dreadfully familiar movement, reminding her of one white-winged companion who could never join her, before fluttering away across to where Sif and the children played, Demon already waiting there with them all.
"You are a Sorceress," Tyr grit his teeth. Elizabeth met his eyes.
"Indeed I am. If you wish to employ my services for your personal gain, I am now situated at Sakkavbar, an island within a cove just off the East side of the Sea of Jord." She smirked, wiggling her fingers, causing his dark red hair to turn a pleasant shade of blonde. "Be warned though, I don't like self-righteousness. Reminds me too much of some old acquaintances." She met Odin's eyes directly, smirk disappearing as Tyr noticed his change in colouring.
Odin narrowed his eyes, "Sakkavbar, you say? I must pay you a visit in the next decade."
Elizabeth plastered a fake smile on her face, somehow making it seem sincere, before inclining her head politely, "Thank-you, Your Majesty. There would be no higher honour. If you wish to bring the young Princes too, I can assure you that the wards are…adequate, when it comes to protecting young ones." Unwillingly, her eyes slipped to her daughter, staying there momentarily before going back to Odin.
"What is your name?" He suddenly barked, downing the small amount of firewhiskey he had in his tankard. He looked to Gormund, who blinked in surprise, looked to Elizabeth.
"Milady…?"
Elizabeth gave Gormund a small apologetic smile before looking back at Odin. "Give me a name, and I shall wear it as one would. Unfortunate as it is, I have no wish to divulge my true identity."
Odin stood at her words, eyes fiery, "Then I will name you Sága, of Sakkavbar."
Elizabeth's eyes gained a light in them, "And so I will be. Saria! Ronan!" She called, not letting their eyes part until her kneazle-leopard's had slunk over to her, standing and looking to Sif. Going over, she ignored the still-angered Tyr and the silent Odin, pushing past the Royal Guard to the group of children who played with Sif, Demon and Morag. Demon immediately started flying around her head, awakening and poking fun at the fairies that tied themselves in her hair as Morag cawed and fluttered to her shoulder as she picked up Sif.
"My apologies, children, but Sif and I have to go now." She smiled at them all, before waving, Sif copying her adorably. "Fang, come out from under the table now." She crouched, whispering encouragingly despite it being useless, looking at the table nearby, grinning as the deaf but growing Malamute came bounding out, tongue lolling as he joined the calm and demure Saria and Ronan. She hummed in amusement, before glancing back at Gormund, ignoring Odin. She tossed him her pouch of galleons, sickles and knuts.
"Here. Get your wife that necklace she was eyeing, and Gorgandr what he needs to properly take care of that snake he's keeping in the pitcher," she winked as he gaped at the contents of the pouch, speechless. Laughing, she waved her hand, causing smoke to billow around them before she apparated them to the cove, in front of the house that was already being covered in snow from the nearby mountain range.
"Home sweet home," she murmured, knowing she'd have to go back for their belongings and the remaining fairies at Heimdall's Observatory soon. Upon appearing, her feline companions immediately stalked forward prowling around in snow-covered grassed that grew in the sand outside their new home, Fang letting out a short series of barks before going straight for the water. Elizabeth immediately groaned, using magic to redirect him to a snow drift near the side of the house, which she knew from Morgan covered a dog kennel. Then, making sure there was a warming spell covering Sif before she started, Elizabeth shut her eyes, pushing out her magic. It was simple to set temporary wards, but she'd have to make more permanent ones soon.
When she opened her eyes again, Morgan informed her twenty-two minutes had passed, and she felt happy she'd set the warming charms on Sif as she found the baby sleeping against her chest, having buried under her white wool-knit scarf, which went surprisingly well with her Asgardian dress for the day – a dark grey, knee-length shift with no sleeves, knee-high boots, a wrist-watch tempered to Asgardian time and a belt around her waist with the sheathed Sword of Gryffindor. In Asgard, the Sword was merely a short blade, a knife at most, but with the basilisk venom and magic-channelling properties, it was useful when she wanted to cast area-wide spells. Elizabeth had learnt to use it over the last fifty years, and was hoping to teach Sif when she was old enough.
Sif herself was always dressed in the same at this stage in her childhood, wearing a white dress with sandals, with a protective rune-bracelet on her right wrist. Elizabeth had made it just a decade past, to protect her from wild beasts and from getting hit accidentally by weapons if she ever decided to go walkies with anyone looking after her and ran into a bare blade.
Happy with the temporary wards, Elizabeth started to walk forwards, the doors to her mansion opening with barely a flick of her wrist, showing off the tall entrance hall, the spiralling wooden staircase clearly reaching every level, that had its own corridor slash balcony that went around three walls of the square, the empty one having a tall, stained glass window depicting Hogwarts over the Black Lake, something that made her stop and stare for some time before Demon snapped her out of it when he tried physically tugging at the fairies in her hair.
"Stop that," she warned in a low voice, before waving her arm, decorating the walls a pleasant shade of Gryffindor red, with silver white accents and a plain white ceiling, the stone floor smoothing out and mimicking white, black-flecked marble, the stairs swiftly changing to match the floor as Elizabeth realised the wood didn't quite fit. Then came all the little bits of furniture, and decorations, leaving space for things that would come from her own shrunken belongings. After about a dozen hours, going through each room, she was done, making a note to either get a staff or create some kind of golem crew that could maintain the home – and it would be their home. Elizabeth would miss Earth – hell, she missed Jotunheim sometimes – but Asgard was one of the only places where she could blend in easily, without protest, and with their longevity…
"I made quite a fool of myself earlier, didn't I?" She looked down at Saria, who glanced up at her with an expressionless face – but her eyes showed her sad agreement. "He just quite annoys me. Though I'm sure it'll take some time for the message to sink in, maybe the end of the war and having not one but two sons will change him…" Elizabeth sighed, before quietly asking the fairies to leave her hair as she started taking the braid out, feeling stretched to the end of her tether at the moment as she sat on her newly-conjured chaise lounge. Sif was playing quietly on the floor with Demon and the now-inside Fang, the fireplace casting their shadows across the room, as well as a wall of heat that was greatly appreciated.
…though not quite as much by Saria and Ronan, the latter of which who yowled pitifully as she increased the flames.
"Oh do quiet down," she muttered, blasting a set of cooling charms in their direction, increasing it to their preferred temperature of minus twenty degrees Celsius. Luckily, due to it being magical in nature, and directed towards the kneazle-leopard's, Elizabeth didn't feel the frigidness that would surround them otherwise as they sat in front of her like posh dogs, or house-cats, as it were.
Settling down in the chaise lounge, Elizabeth settled down for a short nap, when Sif giggled out of the blue.
"Mama."
Elizabeth's eyes shot open.
"Mama, mama, mama-"
Hot tears pooled in her eyes as she looked over at her baby-girl, who was bouncing up and down, sitting up on the animal fur rug, grinning at her. Wiping at her eyes, Elizabeth hurriedly got off the chaise lounge, hurrying to where Sif sat, kneeling in front of her, watching her treasure babble the same word over and over again.
"Mama?" Sif blinked, before Elizabeth sniffed, picking her up, hugging her tight to her chest, feeling a sudden pang of loss for Loptr. She never got to see him walk, or say his first word. Elizabeth didn't even know if he was alive, and she couldn't bear to ask Heimdall. "Mama, Mama, Mama..."
She took solace in Sif, knowing she'd never have to be separated from her like she was her brother.
"My treasure, my raven…"
