A/N: Yoohoo! I'm back! And boy, does it feel good…sooo, how have you lovelies been? I have been caught up in mundane affairs and besides, my muse must have gone on a holiday trip to the moon and lost the spaceship. Anyway, here's another chapter on the life of our favourite gods. Hope you love it as much as you loved the last three…
Disclaimer: All characters of the movie 'Thor' belong solely to Marvel Comics. I just own the story.
-oOxOo-
Not flesh of my flesh
Nor bone of my bone,
But still miraculously
My own.
Never forget
For a single minute:
You didn't grow under my heart
But in it.
-Unknown
-oOxOo-
Rights and Duties
'Hold still,' scolded Frigga for the umpteenth time, as she tried to comb Thor's hair into some sort of semblance.
Thor, being Thor, was forever restless. It was not in him to stand still for more than a few seconds before dashing off to find another mischief. His spirit was as free as the Northern wind, and as full of vitality as a newborn colt. He was always running about, chasing mirth and frolic in all he did. He never entered a room, recalled Frigga – he rushed in, at once commanding the attention of the people within.
But this morning was a special occasion and he was more excited than usual. Even Loki, who was the very epitome of calm stillness, could be seen fidgeting and pacing her room. For today, after numerous days of coaxing and cajoling on the boys' part, Odin had agreed to take them on a tour to the famous weapons' vault.
Thor made another attempt to turn his head towards the chamber doors.
'If you do that one more time, I'm going to break my promise about not cutting your hair,' threatened Frigga. He went stock-still at once.
Loki snickered, earning a glare from his brother.
For some unknown reason, Thor had got it in his head to keep his hair long like his father and his grandfather. It was an old custom, back in the days of Borr, for courtiers to wear their hair long. But it had all been in the past. Nowadays, nobody bothered. All the children had small haircuts, except for Thor. His hair had already grown up to his neck. And he showed no inclination towards shortening it.
Frigga smoothed one last strand of his golden hair and laid down her brush. Then she proceeded to straighten his collars with sharp tugs.
'Mother, don't!' said Thor, scowling. He did not like being fussed over. 'I'm looking fine.'
'No you're not – and don't you dare roll your eyes on me again!' Frigga gave a final tug and looked him over. 'There. Now you look fine.'
With an excited whoop, Thor took off for the chamber doors, dragging an equally thrilled Loki behind him.
'Thank you, Mother!' they chorused back as they headed towards the Throne Room. She could hear them chattering and giggling excitedly all the way down the passage.
Frigga turned to Nyela, her handmaid, who had been rearranging her royal kirtles in the wardrobe – and laughed in relief. Nyela returned her smile with one of her own.
'They can be a handful,' she remarked, picking up a midnight blue kirtle and admiring the needlework.
'Oh yes,' sighed Frigga, walking towards her dresser, 'especially my eldest.'
Nyela shook her head, hers lips quirking at the corners. The Queen was indeed a wonderful mother. She watched as her mistress combed and twisted the strands of her golden hair and secured them expertly with a silver clip.
Frigga caught her staring at her in the mirror and smiled. Nyela blushed.
'What is it, dear?' the Queen asked.
'Don't you find it tiring sometimes?' she blurted out. Then her eyes went wide at her own impertinence. 'I'm so sorry, Your Majesty. I should not have spoken out of turn,' she stammered.
Frigga waved away her apologies. 'It is alright, Nyela. Yes – sometimes parenting can be tiring. But when at the end of the day, you look at the upturned face of your child and see the immense love and trust for you reflected there, you forget all the tiredness, all the worries and irritation and can only marvel at the glory of parenthood.' She paused, giving her handmaid a warm look. 'You are young, sweetheart – and find it all so confusing. But some day, when you have a child of your own, you'll understand what I'm saying now.'
Nyela bowed her head and blushed.
'Now bring my flower basket and then you are free for the day.'
-oOxOo-
The weapons' vault was larger and more magnificent than Loki could have ever imagined. He couldn't help but turn his head every which way, trying to get a glimpse of all the splendor that it held in store. As the gigantic doors to the second weapons' chamber swung shut with a thud behind them, Loki peeked at his brother around the imposing figure of his father. They were climbing down a set of sweeping stairs that led to the heart of these magnificent chambers.
Thor caught his eyes and gave a gleeful smirk. He was as excited as Loki.
They came to a stop facing another ornate door at the foot of the staircase.
'Now I want you two to pay close attention,' said Odin, turning to the eager boys. 'This chamber is extremely protected not only because they contain valuable artifacts but also because each of them are deadly. I want you both to give me your word that you would not touch anything without my permission and would keep close to me.'
'We give you our word, Father,' Thor spoke on both their behalf as Loki nodded in agreement.
Odin inclined his white head once and gestured to the two Aesir guards to open the final door. The door started swinging open and Loki felt a cold shiver of thrill climb up his spine and swallowed.
This chamber, however, was smaller than the previous ones. It didn't contain wicked looking spears or swords that were cursed and bloodthirsty. In fact, it did not contain anything that resembled a weapon! Loki felt disappointed as he looked over the dozen or more pedestals lined at intervals on either side of the broad marble walkway – each holding strange articles that glowed and swirled, casting a spectrum of colours across the chamber walls.
'But these are not weapons!' complained Thor. 'They are just relics!'
Odin gave a low chuckle, 'Don't judge something by how they look.' He walked up to the nearest pedestal. 'This cup of Birjamah,' he said, pointing to a small cup that seemed to be full of some yellowish green liquid, 'gives the drinker unbound strength and valour. We took it from a great king of Niffleheim, who had wanted to conquer Asgard and rule the Nine Realms with the help of this tiny cup that could convert the weakest of mortals into the fiercest of warriors. Imagine a whole army,' he said, 'drunk with this magical valour and super strength – imagine the havoc they would work upon the enemy.'
Loki's eyes had gone round as coins.
'Would you still call it just a relic?' asked Odin, peering down at his eldest son.
Thor shook his head jerkily and cast an awe-filled glance at the small cup.
Odin beckoned to them as he walked slowly down the aisle, occasionally pointing out a particular relic and explaining its significance. The two boys hung onto his words with mingled curiosity and reverence – and on Loki's part a tiny sliver of apprehension.
'Are all these relics won in wars?' he asked.
Odin smiled grimly, 'Yes. Each of these, except Mjolnir, was won after hard-fought battles – some on grounds as far flung as Jotunheim.'
The two boys drew closer to him at the mention of the dreaded Realm.
They had reached at the end of the aisle and stood facing a small casket. It was placed on a raised plinth in place of honour and seemed to be full of a swirling blue light. It had two handles on its sides that were decorated with intricate vines and leaves. Loki watched fascinated as the blue light became more and more agitated as Odin drew closer to it.
'What is that, Father?' he asked.
'That is an ice-casket,' said Odin. 'Don't draw closer,' he added sharply, as Thor's hand twitched upward, as if to grab the handle, 'when touched by unprotected hands, it gives the person a severe frostbite. Only a Jotun can touch it bare-handed.'
'So-so it's true?' Thor burst out in barely suppressed excitement. 'Mother read us a Midgardian story where this was mentioned. Does it mean Midgardians know everything about us?'
Odin's brows drew closer, 'She read you a story that mentioned the ice-casket? She shouldn't have.' A look of deep unease settled on his face.
'She didn't want to but we insisted. It's not her fault,' Loki defended his mother.
Drawing a heavy breath, Odin turned to the casket again and began, 'Once, mankind accepted a simple truth, that they were not alone in the universe…'
-oOxOo-
'...and then he told us about the cruel Frost Giants and then Thor said when he became king he would hunt and slay them all,' Loki paused to draw a breath. He was on his mother's settee, recounting every detail of the tour to Frigga as she sewed new buttons onto Thor's brand new tunic.
'And how did you feel about his sentiment?' she asked, stopping to regard his face.
Loki shrugged, turning the question in his mind. 'Relieved, I think,' he said finally.
Frigga accidentally pricked her finger, creating a tiny spot of red near the hem of the tunic.
'Father says that though only one of us would be king both of us were born to be one. What does that mean, Mama?'
Clearing her throat, Frigga gave him the best smile she could muster, 'What do you think it means?'
'I don't know,' he started chewing his lips, 'Perhaps it means that age does not define who would be king, but abilities – which means I have as much right to be king as Thor!' he finished, sounding surprised at himself.
The Queen sent her younger son a tremulous smile. Only if it were so, my son, she thought. She kissed his eager upturned face and said, 'You are becoming wiser!' earning a giggle. 'Now run along and find your brother. I need to see if this tunic fits.'
She watched as he disappeared through the doors. Then she put down her workbasket. It was time to have a serious talk with her husband.
-oOxOo-
Odin shook his head as he faced his Queen in the throne room. Everyone had left. Only the ravens, Hugin and Munin, flew about, adding to the general silence a sense of disturbance and unrest.
'I know what you are saying, my dear,' he said in his grave voice. 'But it is not time yet.'
'And when would it be time for you, my lord? When he is grown enough to hate them and want to kill them like his brother and the rest of the Aesirs? When he grows up considering himself nothing but your son and Thor's brother? Do you think that would be an appropriate time?'
Odin sat silent, running a finger along the runes on his spears.
'No, my lord,' Frigga shook her head slowly, 'I can't let that happen to my son. I can't let him lose himself and I won't let you do that to him.'
'Do you not think he would be equally affected if he is told now?' asked Odin.
'No. He will grow up knowing who he is and how much we love him. But if you do not tell him now, I know it would harm him and it would harm you in ways you haven't imagined.'
Odin interrupted her, 'Do you think it easy for me to deny him his identity? I love my sons as much as you do, though in a different way. You may love them as a mother first, then as a Queen; but I have to love them as a king first, then as a father. And I cannot forego my duty to my subjects to anything.' He sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping. 'Have a little faith in your husband, Frigga. I too want what is good for my sons.'
Frigga fought for words to argue that point but Odin had had enough. He held up one hand to silence her, his face set in granite, 'This is final. We have nothing further to discuss.' Then his gaze softened, 'Trust me, my Queen. I won't let him come to harm in any way.'
Bosom heaving in suppressed emotions, Frigga bowed to the Allfather. 'I will trust you in this, my lord,' she said, before adding too quietly for Odin to hear, 'but I sincerely hope you don't come to regret this decision in the next few centuries.'
-oOxOo-
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