AWOWADD
Chapter 4: All-Father
The chariots of sun and moon met for the first time in an age. They eclipsed in remembrance; brother and sister embraced for the longest of times. They told of their separate paths, the faces they've seen, and the wonders in the universe. In their good time, fishing villages and campfires were lit up. The amber ashes burnt in the grey atmosphere; congregating past sorrows and retold achievements under the sun and moon's gaze.
Happier times soon faded in the shadowed palace walls. Sentries, with solemn faces, clenched to the darkness. Their ominous eyes watched from afar places of utmost importance. Leering servants crept on the tips of their toes, not wanting to create an echoing nuisance. Sketchy maids gathered along the wall of the Hall of the Deep. Their spidery fingers failed to hear the low hum of footsteps from the daïs. Or the indistinguishable grumble of discontent.
The Queen lounged across her throne, one eyebrow raised and a hand rested on the side of her face. Her pale fingers skimmed over the bronze bracelet clad on her arm. Her dark eyelashes fanned to the floor. The incessant tapping from her husband's staff tightened the tension built in her chest. Her bosom stretched uncomfortably across the metal platting. Her lips pursed in anticipation. Another bout of fire and fairy dust cannoned across the shores. It only thickened the brow of the King. Deer hide drums battered on.
All eyes stared intently at the closed grand doors across the way. The Hall of the Deep echoed the gay festivities from outside. The low hum of the cheers and laughers taunted the King. His displeasure rolled off in him and dispersed out like an even-fall's fog. Such emotion made the windows quiver in his unleashed wrath./p
The smell of burnt roast and embers rose in clouds of smoke. It's appearance could be seen by the rotund opening. The color of charcoal decorated across the skyline, like a trail of breadcrumbs.
Finally, the Queen narrowed her eyes to her clenched husband on his throne. He dropped his fist loudly on the armrest. The cloudiness in his eyes cleared from red to white. The noise receded for the time being.
"Everything will fall into place," She crossed a leg over the other, propping on one side. She stretched lazily as her foot bounced off her leg. She thinned her lips, eyes casted to the doors. "She'll be strong. Like her father," she emphasized, watching his reaction slyly.
He noticeably stiffened. He inclined his head towards his wife. Freyja had the nerve to turn away from him, gaze intent on the door. Almost in mockery. He growled underneath his breath. Vanaheimr let the trident rest in its proper place. The grooves where his fingers were molded to their shape. He snuffed a shaky breath; he closed his eyes trying to stuff his temper away for the time being.
Age did not suit him, nor any Vanir. But somehow he wore it nevertheless. Even his beard dared to whiten at the split ends. Somehow he didn't think his stifling appearance turned his wife away in their bed. She could feel it to. Vain she was, lack of intelligence did not reside in her.
His wife's pretty head put more than a thought to their predicament. She couldn't feel the same divine presence in the Temple like other times. Her faith was shaken. She hid it well, but when it came to the night all godly might vanquished. He didn't need eyes to see his wife's faux shield. It was wielded rather poorly. Whatever vexed her, seemed to have switched on her maternal protectiveness.
Freyja continued gazing at the door, waiting for it. The pounding of the day-night rode on. Her nails clicked against the others. The back of her head hit the back of the throne. The thin layer of metal coronet wrapped around her head, pinched her scalp. She took the pain as she watched her husband rise from his seat.
The thunderous boom of the Bifröst overpowered the villages' ruckus. The sonic aftermath resonated. Freyja jumped out of her seat and made way to the opening. She backed away as she couldn't see anything in the cleared skies, only the smoky haze of the moon eclipsing the sun.
Gravely, Vanaheimr held out a hand as if reaching for something. "It isn't her that I'm so worried about," he said defiantly. The trident slid into his hands and slammed it down to the mosaic daïs. The creepy sound of the double doors opening echoed.
Freyja frantically returned to her position, arms at the ready. The hovering feeling of magic spread across her arms like goosebumps. Before her fingers bent, her King grasped her left forearm in exasperation.
The cauldrons of fire in the entryway wavered. The flame flickered, downsizing.
"They're here," Her words froze on her lips.
The sound of a hundred waves colliding against the rocks boomed. It rocked the hesitant breath of the Queen back into her seat. The wild beatings of her chest pounded under her metal corset. Her back tingled as the pounding of the doors resumed. Her nerves shivered down her spine and fought the urge to show anything beneath her. She swallowed her pride down as she clawed at the iron throne in agony.
Much couldn't be said for the stony king. His eyes perched precariously at the hinges. He willed them to bend in the brackets. Sparks of fire flew as the creaks of the doors oped. Entryways as large as twenty men shoulder length across could fit. If only such armored men could appear before the Storm-King. Vanaheimr shook his staff, airing out the room. The drapes and banners flew in the gust of wind. Even Freyja's majestic hair framing her bosom curled off her in fear. When the thud of doors finally descended, the misty-eyed king blew out a cool breath. The Asgardian King knew no limits as far as the grandiose mesasures. His eye, still as pruned and keen as the day he was made regent, still managed to make the Vanir King looked down upon.
He candidly took in their litter. There wasn't a spot of flesh that hadn't glowed in the gilded light in his halls. They radiated with abnormal grace to the beholder. The King, with every inch of his stature polished like one of his war spears reflected the perfect companion to Gungnir- the Truth Spear. How he glowered at its presence. Truthfully he couldn't decide which companion was worse at the moment.
Then, at his beck and call, the Sky Queen Frigga appeared. Clothed in her home spun cloud linens and diamonds from the heart of dwarvish mountains decorated her jewels. Though up close, warriors and poets regaled her eyes as the most attractive jewel to be sought after. Out of the corner his eye, he saw his wife readjust her choker necklace he gifted her last winter, one eye on the King and the other greening over at his side. Trailing behind them walked two boys of equal age, though opposite in every way. His trained sea warren eyes saw a taller boy, blond like a sun ray, and with every intention to fill out his clothes through sweat and hard training. He puffed his chest and strode like a peacock behind his father. His companion being the younger of the two with raven ink hair smoothed back. His paled face stoned as he reminded the Vanir King of a virgin snow during the solstice. It was obvious both boys resembled there father's mannerisms and aimed to please those with their good name.
They stopped moments away from the dais. Vanaheimr banged the trident to the floor with a thunderous resonation. He opened his arms wide and receiving. He raised them to the sky as if offering his very throne to his prestigious guests. Freyja held her breath as her heart raced./
All-Father Odin and Queen Frigga. I speak on behalf of all Vanirs to welcome you in our hallowed halls," The monarch of the Vanirs chiseled the polite, democratic smile. "And who are these young warriors to be?" He gestured to the two tag alongs, who each bowed in salutations.
Odin cleared his throat. "My sons- Prince Thor and Prince Loki,"
Both boys appeared scrawny, but able enough to start their training soon. It was remarkable how so different boys could be so much like their parents. Thor's flaxen hair was the pride of Frigga as it was delicate and moved with his body's motions. He received the strong brow of his father's ancestors and the curve of his nose. His stance stood slightly lanky but with every firm nerve of that of his father.
Prince Loki, on the other hand, must have gotten his black hair from some Asa on his mother's side. Though a bit peaky, his skin, he still radiated the same tone of precision and beauty like his mother's homemade linens. It was no doubt he learned etiquette from his mother but the ego of his father. The Vanir King leaned away from his scepter.
"A fine pair for Asgard's finest," he acknowledged the strapping princes. "Tell me lads. What do you think of my home?" He waved a hand around the domes above them or perhaps the pillars as long as a dragon's breath. Aside from the rudimentary structure lining to the acoustic dome, there was a richness in serenity with the hues of cerulean and sea foam greens. The mosaic tiles depicting battles strewn from an artist's vision from ages ago, still shone brightly like freshly plucked diamonds.
Loki came prepared as he eyed around him, hands behind his back. He studied. "It is a peaceful place attributed with the brightest intellects on this side of Yggdrasil," Each syllable eloquently dragged out perfectly with no hesitance nor stutter.
His brother cut in, "With an army second to none. Except for Asgard, of course," He saved himself at the last second with some due lag. A creeping blush overpowered his cheeks and his mother gave him a strict glance in his direction.
Freyja giggled as her husband bellowed a hearty laugh. The voices echoed warmly in his Hall. "Headstrong. Just like the King, if I dare overstep," He smiled toothily as the Prince Thor steeled his attempt to smile. He nodded once before beckoning his company forth. "Come, let us gather for in the reception hall and let the lads wander a bit," He waved at them, a sign for dismissal.
Frigga bowed her head graciously. "That is most kind of you, Vanaheimr but I'm afraid they must be-"
The quick scampering could be heard from the boys' sole feet. A gentle creak of the door and no evidence could be seen that two, educated princes of Asgard stepped foot in the halls. From their swift escape, one might think them palace thieves.
Odin brought a hand over his heart letting out a weary laughter. "Wanderers to the very end,"
Frigga remained stressed as she looked upon the floor where they once stood. Now all there was left to do was burn holes into the polished floor and lift a mother's worries. The Vanir King guided his wife over. Freyja let her hand drape over her friend's shoulder. "Have heart, Frigga," she said laughingly. "Let them have a sense of adventure while they're still young,"
Frigga sighed, "That's what I'm afraid of,"
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Loki didn't bother with his brother's raucous laughter or his thunderous steps in front of him. He rather remain quick and unseen, like a doe's escape from the hunt. His legs carried him so far that he didn't pay attention to the corridors paved ahead. He bumped into his brother's back roughly.
He cradled the side of his head that jabbed Thor's bony shoulder bone. "Thor, where are you going?" he asked pointedly. "Mother and Father wouldn't want us to stray!"
Oblivious to his brother's wise words, he nodded his head left and right wondering which way to go. He would have loved to visit the training facilities in Vanaheim and possibly challenge a few younglings while at it. "Look whose talking!" Thor turned on his heel. "You heard what the Old Fish King said," He chose the left direction
Loki held his breath. "Thor!" It wasn't in Thor's nature to mind his manners. Being the stubborn bull he had grown to be, he let his stature of a prince go to his head. What wrong could a prince do let alone a future King?
Thor punched Loki's arm in a friendly manner. "Lighten up! I just want to have a look at the artillery then I'll be back," He said before running off again despite his younger brother's persistence.
As he watched Thor slap his feet against the chiseled stone floors, he couldn't help but wince as he witnessed his brother nearly running over a bed chamberlain. He pitied his elder brother possessed the same grace as a troll dancing in women's slippers.
He huffed, "Prat. Fine, if he can barge into the armory, I'll have a look around the grounds," With a determined look he choose the opposite divider his brother came across. As he strayed to the right he felt a certain hollow wind wrap around him. It was hot and sticky the closer he neared the corridor's end. A sheen of sweat underneath his tunic was daring to perspire.
But he refused to allow a few moments of climatic change defer his mood. He slipped around the corner like the flick of an eel's tail then proceeded near the castle's rocky walls. He shielded a hand over his eyes as the intensity of the sun glow on him.
When his eyes readjusted he spotted a hidden alcove where stairs lined down to the sandy brine. He etched a smile, looked around for any patrolling guards before sneaking down to the coves.
Iwaldi would have been thrilled to attend one of his boarding meetings about the strives in the kingdom at the moment then here the impending speech no doubt Odin prepared ten celestial eclipses ago. With the cold hand of his wife's holding onto his hand, he consciously made an effort to lend both ears to Odin.
"We all knew this day would come," he said gravely. As if he were sentencing death than procuring security measures. The Hall of Rådet was circular with an arc made of glass panels overlooking the forecast of the seas. The mosaic tiles from before were replaced with the year prior's tapestry Freyja had made. Over his company's heads the Vanir Majesties could remark of their daughter's beauty in threads of gold and intricate swirls in her sapphire blue dress with exquisite pale jewelry borrowed from her dowry chest. The pearls on her neck and earrings draped on her like one of the marble statues he ordered for Freyja's gardens. Though his wife liked her naked sculptures to represent her poise and beauty, Sigyn's posture and the genuine smile melted his heart every time.
"...And you have my deepest regrets for the burden I let you bear, Freyja," Vanaheimr returned from his capture and craned his head to the right.
Freyja heaved a sigh she desperately wished to dramatize just for the King of the Asas but she knew her place and whose side she stood by. Though the girlish, lusty side of her wanted nothing more to relive her gallant days of flaunt and fauna, she reminded herself those times were before she wore a coronet of the finest jewels and had her beloved husband at her side in equivalence. Disappointed she was, she set that aside for her and her daughter's sake.
"She means the world to us. If this must be done... I wouldn't regret anything," Her eyes glistened as she looked at the tapestry once more. The picture of innocence and beauty duplicated to her daughter. Her daughter. No one else's. If anything vain about the Queen was said, she would happily admit her daughter was the most beautiful creation she had the pleasure to bestow to Yggdrasil.
Feeling sympathetic for the Queen in front of her, Frigga lowered her head with heavy heart. She couldn't imagine someone like Freyja allowing her guard to shut down when it came to little Sigyn. At first glance, Freyja was just a pretty thing that happened to shine under Odin's influence. But when that little flirtation ended soon after Odin's nuptials to the Queen, under Frigga's eye, Freyja proved her worth more ten times than any other noble woman she had ever met. She practiced the arts and gained the advantage with her acceptance with the Temple of Hvergelmir. The waters that ebbed around the Temple purified the soul and advanced Freyja's magical abilities.
When she received the priestess hood and cloth, she redeemed herself and proved her willingness to serve independently to Yggdrasil and Valhalla's will. And won the friendship of Iwaldi, as he was known in his days before kingship.
Frigga turned her bejeweled bracelet, cradling it on her lap. She noticed the uncomfortable hesitance from Freyja. "It won't be for an eternity," she reassured. Freyja still held her gaze above their heads to the tapestry, entranced. "She'll be well looked after. The palace of Odin welcomes all who enters its gates,"
The etch of a smile graced the Queen of Vanaheim's lips for diplomatic purposes. But even kind Frigga knew that it was all for naught. After all it wasn't too long ago both Vanaheimr and Freyja were called differently and treated anything but royalty in Asgard.
Noticing the tension, Vanaheimr called for goblets of wine. Strong to the senses and bitter like the frosted winds to the south of their realm. Odin swirled his cold chalice around like a champion toying with his opponents. He sipped at the wine disinterested as he knew his comrade's old tricks. Vanaheimr cleared the phlegm in his throat and called for an attendant to refill his cup.
"What sort of arrangements are to be made, Odin?" he said curtly as the servant sipped at the cup, nodded fervently and delivered the cup to his hands.
Odin pushed the wine away instantly. He shared a glance with Frigga. "She'll train along our sons and the Valkyries in due time," He wished for their approval seeing the Valkyries remained at the highest warrior position. While the Vanir King almost charmed to hear such news, Freyja's mouth dipped down- sour like the grapes in her cup.
Odin continued on with his master plans. "Her rooms will reside next to the royal wing. All the comforts of home from afar,"
Freyja inclined her head to see her husband thin his lip. She held his hand secretly but leaned to her opposite side.
Vanaheimr remembered Asgard when he was in his prime. All metallic and filled with knowledge. It was the city of rich culture and light. However the top of the world didn't reside light in all places. Its halls remained darkened and hollowed with barracks, council chambers, and an obscene amount of vastness. Nothing like the open aired rooms in the Hall of the Deep.
He remained poised, collect. But raveling beneath his pores, worry bottled in him. "You know Vanirs soak the light. We may not bathe in it as the Alfs but it is vital she need not be caged in a palace all day," His brow furrowed.
Odin raised a brow. "I see no reason for that," He gestured to his wife. "My wife has private gardens to entertain herself on stuffy days. I am certain your daughter would find them beneficial to her health," His eyes crinkled as if he were always at ease and not in a hazardous mine ready to set off traps.
Freyja hid the gasp in her chest as she felt pressure in her hand. She dared not interrupt his brewing mood. She diverted his intense staring with her flippant allure.
"I don't know how to thank you, my King. For all you've done and are to do. It's been a wonder how such a little shell like her will open a large destiny," She lazily drew her soured cup to her lips. Like the wine, her lies hid behind her teeth.
He gave a necessary laugh. "I require no thanks on your part. Anything for our friendship and mutual alliance," His eyes dashed away from her momentarily to look at her husband, whose mood only worsened
"If it makes your mind at ease," Frigga intervened. "My sons will protect her as well. They are young boys nonetheless have their best interests at heart," The motherly swell of pride flaunted out of her like a swan embracing the night's warm breath on the lakeshore
Freyja nodded. "It's been difficult for Sigyn," Her eyes darted once to the tapestry. Her fingers on her right hand twitched. "We have sheltered her so much that it discourages the childhood friendships she needs. Her soul is set out for adventure and her spirit will no doubt grow into that in the years to come," A true smile emerged at the edge of the goddess' lips.
But beauty tainted the beast besides her. Vanaheimr shoved off the goblet in his hand and glowered in vain. "May the Spirits allow that adventurous attitude to decay," he grumbled
She sent a squeeze to his hand. "Iwaldi," Her tone froze in her throat as he clapped the armrest loudly.
"No, I am quite serious. It has been and will get her into trouble one day," He marked his words with his index finger pushing against the wooden table. "She pushes her boundaries further each passing year," he noted angrily.
Odin waved it off, almost amused by his friend's sudden bursts of familiar passion. "Nothing more than an inquisitive child. We know that from experience," He tipped the goblet to him in cheers
Vanaheimr cupped his free hand to the trimmings of his beard. Metal claps jangled annoyingly against the others as he pondered. "But allowing her to be adventurous has a price. Adventure turns into mischief and mischief turns into rebellion," His rage turned into desperate weariness. "I do not want to lay my burdens onto you before she leaves this Hall," He offered a hand to his company.
Frigga smoothed a hand across the table. "King Vanaheimr, what harm could a young girl do?" she asked dubiously. Her eyebrows lifted. "It's just a phase, like everything else with children," Her smile dazzled both Kings.
A crush of his wife's hand reminded him his place. "Sigyn won't settle like some coddled fish," He maneuvered his hand with the spin of a fish tail. "She'll resist!" he vowed. His fist curled.
The Sky Queen arched back, slightly appalled. She looked to her husband-king whose penetrating gaze seemed to have accosted the Vanir King. "Then she will be treated as a lady of the court," she assured.
Vanaheimr sighed. Gasping with exasperation, he removed himself from the table. His feet took him around the perimeter of the table to the widening window overlooking the cliffside.
He frowned, palms clasped behind his back. "Even if her behavior miraculously changed, there's still the notion of her well being. If she is to grow up as any Asgardian does..." He cocked his head to the left. "There's still the pressures of her position," he said gravelly.
Frigga held a hand over her heart whilst Freyja dangled a finger around the necklet. Odin-King shrouded behind his wife, fingers dribbling across the wooden surface in lost thoughts. Old haunts and nightmares he stowed away seemed to return from ten eclipses ago.
He voiced his concerns. "You fear, my friend, of the life she'll live in Asgard," He teetered back and forth gently, knowing the mood swings were inevitable. He played with his words like a miner avoiding plausible cave collapses.
Frigga caught on and was relieved. She thought of the worst- behavioral issues, unpredictable mood swings like her father, the vanity of her mother, and the like - but the hand on her heart returned to her lap. She nodded appreciatively as Vanaheimr hunched his back to them, continuing his gaze.
"You're afraid she will love it there more than the memories she has with you," she cooed her words soft like billowing clouds. The King's shoulders released some tension at the Sky Queen's warm concerns.
He sighed once more, this time the weariness he tried to held in seemed to overpower his will. He grasped the back of his wife's ornate seat. "I won't lie and say it hadn't been on my mind of recently," Freyja turned to Iwaldi and cradled his age spotted hand with care. "We swaddled and seen her at her smallest. It will be in Asgard, the memories she will remember the most," His lip dipped down just the tiniest
The Queen Mother took her time to differentiate the two different eye sets in front of her. The storm brewing in Vanaheimr's eyes cleared to a light grey, but speckled with little white sails. Sails of hope. But with every blinking of the eye, they grew bleaker and smaller.
His Queen's eyes, pretty and thrillingly calculating, tamed to a calm blue. She, too, had the lights in her eyes. But they were of a different shape. They moved with the glare from the torches and natural sky light. When her eyes freshened they moved like light houses searching for strayed ships. It both touched and scared the Queen Mother.
ouched, for the sincere mothering and fathering they provided for the child. Not all who have the Fortune of a child bless the Gods and Yggdrasil with the miracle of life. Introspectively, the Queen felt an enormous responsibility land onto-as if the Norns instructed her the last waters in their worlds. One move and all in hand would slip through her dainty fingers.
She wished to do more than comfort and console. If there was a way... But there wasn't. Her ominous husband would have told her otherwise. After all, everything he has done was to protect his family and always had a purpose.
"There will always be a sense of homebound in her," Frigga nodded. "It happens to all lost children. It would be wrong of us to deprive her of her bond to Vanaheim and her family," She held her husband's hand gently. The Queen couldn't imagine the despair or the triflings needed to pass through that both of the monarchs had to endure to secure their child's safety. It would throttle her into a whirlwind of chaos to lose any of her children. Not just to her, but to their loyal subjects in Asgard.
Vanaheimr shrugged his shoulders back. A hand scraped against the shoal designed walls. He tenderly touched them as if they could animately hold emotions for him to reel back. "I won't see her grown up," he said stoically. "I will not be there to see her win her first battle scar. Nor ward off those who ask for her hand," He plumped himself back into his sore seat. The wood creaked at the sudden weight. The rings on his fingers embellishing his right to rule began to depress any desire to lift the appendage from the arm rest.
Frigga said coolly. "These are old worries of all fathers, Vanaheimr. You have nothing to worry about. We're practically family,"
Meanwhile, biding his time, Odin stopped in mid-thought. He pondered his wife's words carefully. Racking inside his brain like a couple of billy goats wanting release from their internal cage, Odin searched with his Eye for a... Well he couldn't recall it enough to think of it a solution. More like... a proposal. An insane, inept one. But if it meant he would have the advantage in their... predicament and of course for the safety above all...
Odin murmured, "A family we are," He itched for his hand to handle the staff Gungnir as it rested at the side of his seat, leaning to its maester. He rubbed his chin as he thought aloud, "And what better way to strengthen that connection then with our own children," His eye looked over to a pale Freyja and a stone faced Vanaheimr.
Gruffly, Vanaheimr said, "All-Father, I am not sending my only child away for the sake of a union. It is for protection," He emphasized with his pointer finger clad with bronzed jewels.
"And who better than a son of Odin," the King of the Asas stated. Freyja nervously to the equally surprised Frigga and then to her King. He offered, "Nothing is to be set in stone now. But, when she is older, Sigyn will have offers to court. I am not her father and can not condone my permission for her," Odin's hand curled around his staff pointed straight up.
The King of the Vanirs looked at the King of the Asas stealthily. Gone was the temper he wore on his sleeve. Instead, his brow quivered in recollection his breath clung to his iron chestplate.
Freyja knew her shell shocked husband would not react in a manner to threaten. She diverted Odin's suspicion. She licked her lips. "To arrange a marriage at their age could be... temperamental," The beautiful goddess chose her words like a healer performing cauterizing on a squirming babe.
Odin turned on her. The golden eagle helmet on top his cloud swept hair darkened his face. "Do you mean to say a Vanir is not worthy of an Asgardian?" he asked, eye alit in fury.
Vanaheimr called for his own trident at his side. It swooshed from the podium platform and caressed his weathered hand. A slam of the end sparking the flooring echoed around the table. Frigga held her breath, unsure whether either god would make their stances become real.
"That is not what is said. My wife meant no foul," Vanaheimr corrected.
Odin relinquished his hunching form over the table and resumed his back to the seat. Frigga ignored Odin's breathing meditate
"Both of our sons are wonderful boys," she said eyes never leaving her husband's weary breath. Her eyes were trained for any sign of the Odinsleep. When she counted backwards mentally she resumed, "There can be no better candidate for your daughter,"
Odin closed his one eye, with a hand over the golden eye path to calm his frantic nerves. Being so near to the sea sent queasy feelings to his mind. "Thor will be King of Asgard one day," He stated the facts, hoping to make sense for all. "Sigyn is your heir and a contender to join the High Priestess at the Temple," Freyja let go of Iwaldi's hand. "There is much to be said about them together," Odin proclaimed.
A stiff air wrapped around both monarchs. Vanaheimr flexed his now free hand over the surface of the table. He leaned himself over the table with an elbow supporting him
He nodded. "Your boy has the markings of a fine King. Both of them," His eyes twitched. "The House of Vanaheimr would be most honored to build an alliance between our Halls," He allowed his words flow with his breath. Even without looking, he could feel his wife's piercing glare. It stung like a hval's fin across tanned flesh.
"You would ask our daughter to marry someone she doesn't know of?" she hissed in low whispers.
Odin renounced his one moment of sickness and directed his words to the cross queen opposite of him. "Our children will spend the remainder of their childhoods together. They wouldn't be strangers for long," Freyja nodded in acknowledgement but lowered her eyes back to Vanaheimr in reprimand. Her hand fiddled once more with the necklet wrapped around her silken skin. A sign she was wounded in pride. She clutched the pretty pearls as if to relieve her her beauty and magic was enough for her.
Vanaheimr set aside his wife's issues as he had to face Odin. Like his old ways, he bowed in forced appraisal to his superior. "You were my mentor once. I have asked you many requests in our time; let this be a favor in return," he relented. His only wish to keep for his own little princess safe had to come with a price, and this was it. If it meant stopping Fimbulwinter, the prelude to the End, he would take the price with him
In respite, he offered a diplomatic handshake across the oaken surface. "I have high hopes for Sigyn and Thor," Odin responded diplomatically with the brotherly shake.
Frigga's mood brightened as the air around them diffused the tension off the angst filled men. Her head turned, nearly blinding Freyja with her diadem of glitterign gold. "Speaking of her, where is she, High Priestess Freya?" she asked cheerfully.
The necklace around her fingers settled in its position as its mistress rearranged her posture. She looked to the long forgotten tapestry as if it would tell her her location. Truthfully Freyja would have only guessed she muddled once more in her own schemes against Frajonora but that wasn't princess behavior to be told in present company.
So with the charm of a dolphin prancing from sea to sea, she twirled her cup of amber liquid and offered the Queen of the Skies a quaint expression. Flippantly she answered, "Sigyn takes care to her studies. Most likely she is in a corner of our bookcases."
Freyja made a mental note to track down Frajonora to find Sigyn with due haste.