'Frigga's starting to realize she may need a little extra support.'

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Rattled

The citizens of Scala ad Caelum were…nervous. Frigga could see it in the way they shifted and muttered to themselves and eyed her with skepticism and hope and fear—in the way some of them checked the skies or looked back towards the Founder's Fountain, out of sight.

She'd chosen not to address her world there, even if it was the most popular gathering spot. Too many remnants of her fight with Aegir; too much of a chance that things could become…unpleasant.

She glanced at the midday sky. It wasn't unreasonably late to give an announcement, and that's what she'd tell anyone who asked—it gave her time to check on Aegir and make arrangements and make sure that people were actually awake and settled.

(Never mind that she hadn't gone to see Aegir at all. Never mind that she hadn't paused to talk to anyone about what would be done with him. Never mind that the time she should've taken to think about what she'd say was mostly spent going over everything that felt like it'd gone wrong the previous night.)

But she'd done this countless times before—and she could do it again.

"Citizens of Scala ad Caelum," she said, her voice rising above the murmuring, and the world gradually fell silent. "I understand that yesterday was likely…harrowing, for many of you. It has been a long time since our family has fought—"

"Yeah!" someone shouted. "We know what happened last time!"

It was a disruption quickly hushed, but it still threw Frigga off briefly. She knew, of course, that the stories of what had happened to the outer islands were sometimes passed on, parent to child to grandchild—but it was such a distant thing that she hoped that most of them hadn't thought of it.

(There was only one town left, when at their height, they had ruled over so many. Their people had thrived. If this fight got out of control—stars, would she be the reason that their last bit of home fell apart?)

"Aegir is an outlier," she said, and she tried to put as much conviction in her voice as possible. (He might not be. He was the most vocal about his frustrations, but there were always egos to soothe.

…She would make him an outlier. She would find a way to keep this from getting out of hand.)

"He will be dealt with accordingly. I must discuss things further with the council, but we will determine a suitable sentence. In the meantime, I will be speaking with the rest of my family about…opinions on the Union Leaders. We have a strong connection with them, given our heritage, and understandably, very few of us would want them to come to harm. However, that doesn't mean that there can't be minor frustrations, and I will be sure to address them accordingly."

More murmuring, then, discontent. Frigga tried to ignore the itching feeling of being watched—like her world was holding its breath, staring at her and waiting for her to fail.

"…What about the rest of us?"

The question came quiet; she almost spoke over it, mouth opened to close her announcement because she had so much else to do and she needed to leave, but it caught on the edges of her hearing, and she found herself snapping her mouth shut and turning towards the speaker.

Someone had stepped out of the crowd—older, worn. A Keyblade wielder, once, if she was searching her memories correctly, but faces often blurred, if they didn't strike her as particularly important. Someone was tugging on the woman's arm, but she remained unmoved, staring up at Frigga with burning eyes, arms shaking.

"I don't believe I caught that," Frigga said, if only to give herself time to think about an actual answer.

The speaker's eyes narrowed, face twisting with anger, and she spat, louder, "What about the rest of us?" She swept an arm out to indicate a crowd, dislodging the arms trying to drag her back. "I wasn't very old when the last of the outer islands fell, but damn it, I still remember how scared everyone was. My parents used to whisper about it—about the fact that you bluebloods couldn't get your heads out of your asses long enough to stop fighting and actually pay attention to the people you were supposed to take care of."

"Mom," that same person hissed from the crowd, "please."

"So I don't want to hear about what you'll do about—about legends. About people like you. I want to hear what you'll do to make sure that we don't lose our home again."

The crowd had gone deathly silent. Some looked horrified, like they couldn't quite believe that someone had stepped up to say the words at all. Others looked grim, like they were thinking similar thoughts but didn't want to say them. Others just looked nervous, like they weren't sure what they were supposed to do.

For the first time in a long time, Frigga found herself actually feeling uncertain. She wouldn't have, before last night; before, she would've been confident that she could appease any bruised egos, and keep her world running, and eventually find a way to get rid of Darkness so that they didn't have to worry about this at all.

But then, before last night, she hadn't had a direct challenge to her position. She hadn't watched Master's Defender abandon her, and found herself wondering if maybe she wasn't capable of doing this at all. She hadn't gotten into a very public fight with one of her family members and nearly lost.

It dawned on her that the silence was dragging on too long; the speaker's expression was falling slowly, like she'd realized Frigga didn't really have much of an answer for her, and it forced Frigga to try and shake off her uncertainty, because she had to give them something. She was their leader; that's what she was supposed to do. "As I said—Aegir is an outlier. I will be speaking to the rest of my family to align opinions and ensure no more fighting occurs. Our home won't fall, I can assure you."

It wasn't enough—she could see it in the woman's expression. But the speaker didn't say anything more; her lips twisted in a snarl, but she turned and stormed away, the crowd parting to let her leave.

The silence felt damning. It weighed heavy on her shoulders; she wondered, absently, if this is what her ancestor had felt like, when he'd first realized he had to rebuild and take charge of their world. "That is all," she said, because there wasn't much else to say, and she needed to—to get away, and to try and sort out her thoughts and come up with a reasonable plan.

(She needed to know who else agreed with Aegir. She needed to know where the Union Leaders kept running off to and actually keep them under control. She needed to talk to Meili and figure out what they knew and what they'd done with the Book of Prophecies. She needed to actually find that damn black box and make sure that Darkness was trapped in there so that if her family did start fighting, it wouldn't tear the world apart.)

(She could feel people's eyes on her back, words too loud in her ears, like they knew she would fail.)

"Frigga."

Ah. She supposed she wouldn't have to try and organize a meeting with her family, after all—they'd come to her.

An older woman stood in front of her—Lydia, head of one of the branch families, head lifted and eyes narrowed. She was here alone; Frigga wondered if she'd been sent as a representative, or if she'd simply heard the speech and decided to try and talk to Frigga personally.

It didn't matter; she'd need to speak to her family, anyways, and this could be a good chance to get an idea of how people felt.

(People were parting around them, occasionally shooting them uncertain glances, and she tried to ignore how uncomfortable that made her feel.)

"Lydia," Frigga responded, raising an eyebrow.

Lydia inclined her head a little. "Walk with me."

It made her feel a little like a child again, and Frigga was tempted to ignore the command, if only for the way it irked her. But then, it wouldn't help much to make another of her family members angry, and so she fell into step with Lydia, letting the other woman lead her away from the still-busy streets.

Lydia didn't speak for a long, long time—not until they'd made it down near the shore, surprisingly empty for this time of day, the crash of the waves loud enough to help obscure their words.

Frigga tilted her head, giving Lydia an expectant look.

She didn't have to wait long. "'Speaking with the rest of my family about opinions on the Union Leaders—' Frigga, do you know how that sounds?"

"I believe it sounds like a reasonable enough request. The citizens of Scala ad Caelum need assurance, Lydia. If they believe that our family is a threat, it could make our situation…precarious."

Lydia's face twisted. "You make it sound like we already are a threat."

(We have been, before.)

"You don't bear any particular ill-will against the Union Leaders, do you? All we need to do is present a united front—as we have always done. Prove that Aegir was working alone, and eventually, the unease will die down."

Lydia was silent for a moment. "You know," she said, something brittle in her voice, "I'm tired of having to deal with this—this balancing act. We are the descendants of Master Ephemer—"

"And when has that ever truly meant anything?" Frigga said before she could stop herself, more bitter than she expected to be. But she was tired, and still smarting from everything that had happened, and it felt like she was slowly losing control of things, and—and damn it, why couldn't her family make this easier?

Lydia stopped, and Frigga stopped in kind, forcing herself to meet the other woman's eyes and try to reign in her frustration. "Our heritage," Lydia said, voice measured in a way that said she was still angry but was trying to keep the conversation civil, "is what gives us the right to lead. It's what put you at the Head of the Council in the first place."

"I earned that right," Frigga said, despite herself, but there was a tiny part of her that whispered, Did you? You were the most qualified of your family, maybe—but the Head of the Council was never going to be anyone who wasn't an heir.

"You did," Lydia said easily, and it should've soothed her turbulent thoughts but it didn't. "Leadership is in our blood. Our family built this world, and we have ruled over it for generations. But in recent years, it has felt more and more like the citizens of our world no longer respect what we've done for it—and that has only gotten worse under your leadership."

It made her bristle, but she bit her tongue. She had tried to find the right balance; she had tried to make sure that she appeased her family and planned for Darkness and took care of the everyday minutia of her world. What did Lydia know of leading?

Patience. Think your words through.

"Master's Defender disappeared during your fight."

It was something Frigga had been anticipating, but that didn't make it any easier to actually hear. "Temporarily," she said, "from the overuse of magic. It was a long fight; we confronted Aegir at his home first, and much of my time chasing him was spent trying to keep him from causing collateral damage." It wasn't entirely a lie; she had been exhausted, by the time the fight was through, and there were enough witnesses to corroborate her story.

"Can you summon it now?"

"It hasn't even been a day, Lydia."

It was a flimsy excuse, and Lydia apparently knew it, from the way her expression twisted. "Frigga," she said, in a tone that made Frigga feel small, "you have done well leading Scala ad Caelum—but perhaps this is a sign that you should step down."

"No," Frigga snapped, and it dragged up all those old fears—about how a Union Leader would one day replace her, and wouldn't it be such a relief to have one of their legends in charge, and why did it matter that she'd been the one to actually take care of their world for years? "The situation is already unstable; a change in leadership would likely only make the situation worse."

"Master's Defender has always been the leader's Keyblade. Being chosen is the proof that you're qualified. If it left you—perhaps it agreed with Aegir."

"I won the fight," Frigga said, and she could hear how brittle her voice was but couldn't bring herself to correct it. "According to our laws, Aegir must give up his claim. Moreover, Master's Defender did not go to him. Besides, I can hardly imagine the Keyblade would pass to someone who would harm the Union Leaders." Not when one of them was its original wielder, apparently.

Lydia seemed to contemplate that. "Perhaps," she agreed. "But it would still be beneficial to perhaps consider training a replacement."

Lydia had someone in mind, probably. Her entire family would have opinions on who that should be. But Frigga wasn't ready, and it grated on her that it felt like she had to be. "Lydia," she said, ignoring the way it felt like everything was slipping through her fingers, "please let the rest of the family heads know that we need to meet. We need to discuss…current matters."

It was clearly a dismissal, even if Lydia didn't look like she was particularly happy about it. "Think about what I said, Frigga," she said, and with that she left, leaving Frigga alone on the beach.

-"We need to discuss what to do with Aegir."

It was a conversation Frigga wasn't sure she was ready to be having, but it was also one she knew couldn't be put off. The rest of the council—sans the Union Leaders, which at this point wasn't particularly surprising—sat at the meeting table, expressions grave.

"He attacked the Union Leaders," Osmin pointed out. He winced as he shifted, and Frigga, almost, wished he hadn't come—not when he was still injured. She couldn't entirely follow through with the thought—she did desperately want someone here that was firmly on her side—but she wished it was under better circumstances. "When presented with his crimes, he confirmed them, evaded arrest, and then attempted to take control by force. Realistically, he should be exiled for that."

"I agree." Meili—but then again, she wasn't really surprised by that, if what she suspected was true. "The guy's dangerous. If we let him go, he'll just try something again. And he's a Keyblade wielder; it's hard to keep him trapped, unless you find a way to get rid of his Keyblade."

"And the citizens of Scala ad Caelum will expect a suitable punishment," Frigga added. "Too lenient, and they might worry for their safety."

Meili rolled their shoulders, expression creasing briefly with anger. "He brought this on himself. Let him deal with the consequences of his actions."

(She wondered how much of that was lingering anger over how they'd been treated, and how much was anger on behalf of the Union Leaders. She wondered how close they were; how much they'd planned behind her back.

She wondered how much she could actually trust them.)

"He's an important member of our family," Anders argued. "If he's punished too severely, then it might cause a stir with the other family members. Some of them still hold important positions," he added, eyes sweeping across the council, "and others are powerful Keyblade wielders. Are you sure you want to cause that kind of stir?"

He was right. Damn it, but he was right, because after her conversation with Lydia, Frigga knew that things might start to splinter apart. If she wasn't careful—

"Frigga," Meili said, voice low with warning, "don't let your family politics interfere with this."

"Exile would be too harsh," Anders continued. "If you exiled him, think about what the rest of our family see—someone who's willing to turn their back on family, and who might turn on them next."

"Aegir wanted her to be more aggressive," Osmin snapped. "His supporters should be happy."

"In defense of the family, not against them."

"Enough." Frigga lifted a hand, calling for silence. "I've heard your opinions. I'd like to hear from the rest of the council."

The others stayed silent for several long, long moments, looking between each other skeptically. Finally, Bryn offered, "He should have a chance to defend himself. A public trial might due. He could say his piece, and you could present yours, and the council would decide on the punishment."

"And it's something that, by necessity, I'd need to avoid involvement in." It made her anxious, like something was crawling up her spine; how did she know he wouldn't get out of this without punishment?

…But if she wasn't involved with the trial, then neither the citizens of Scala ad Caelum or her family couldn't accuse her of being unfair. It was a way to escape relatively unscathed from the decision making process while still seeming like she'd put careful thought into the idea. And yet…

She took a breath and released it. "It is fair," she agreed, "given his position."

Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw Anders's smug look and Meili's scowl. She made a mental note to keep an eye on Anders; he looked a little too much like he'd obtained a victory, and not simply like he'd been trying to argue in favor of a family member.

"Bryn," she said, "would you be willing to be in charge of the trial?" Normally, the Head of the Council would oversee something like this—but then, she couldn't be involved. Bryn had the most contact with the actual people of Scala ad Caelum, which would make her a solid choice—and besides, it was her idea.

Bryn looked surprised for a moment, but then nodded, expression evening.

…She wasn't a member of their family. Frigga guessed that would upset the others; they might believe the trial was biased. So— "Leid. You, too."

Leid didn't look nearly as surprised as Bryn, giving Frigga a grim smile like she knew what she was doing.

(She'd wanted to appoint Osmin. He'd make sure that Aegir got the punishment he deserved—but then, he was also one of her closest friends. Having him lead the trial would be too suspicious.

…But she didn't know what Leid's motives were, either. Could she trust her? Was she on Aegir's side, or Frigga's, or neither?)

"I'd like both of you to get started working on that," Frigga continued. "Make it your priority. I will speak to Aegir about the arrangements."

Both nodded.

"Very good. And Meili—I need to speak with you privately."

They didn't look surprised, but their expression did turn a little grimmer. It was vaguely satisfying, even if she didn't feel happy about the circumstances.

"The meeting's dismissed."

The rest of the council dispersed, though some shot uncertain looks back towards Meili. Meili, for their part, didn't move; they just watched her, something wary in their expression. They already knew they'd been caught, then. She supposed it wouldn't give her the satisfaction of seeing how they reacted to the fact that she knew, but it might make this conversation go quicker, at least. "You took something from me," she said, voice low enough that any stragglers wouldn't be able to hear.

Meili said nothing.

"Where is it?"

"Take a guess."

Realistically, that could mean anything. Her first thought was that they had given it to Brain or Skuld—likely Brain, if they meant for her to come to the most obvious conclusion. But then again, she had let herself hear what she'd wanted to before, and look how that'd turned out.

She'd underestimated them—thought their station and history and frustrations had put them in a place where they'd be angry and easy to manipulate. She hadn't expected them to manipulate her back.

One more loss, she supposed, and it grated.

"You're working with the Union Leaders," she said instead.

Something flickered across Meili's expression; it almost looked like alarm, before they'd hidden it again. Ah. They didn't know about that part, then.

"So I suppose you forced an apprenticeship in some misguided attempted to 'protect' them from me." She arched an eyebrow. "Or is there still some part of you that's looking for the acclaim you've never been afforded?"

That got to them—rage, breaking briefly through their mask. "Listen," they said, low and harsh, "I'm not playing your family politics. I just know what you're like, and I'd like to make sure that you don't cause too much stress for the kid."

"You don't have very much faith in your own family."

"Your family. Not mine. We came from the same guy, but not a single one of you has ever seen me as anything more than a nuisance. I grew out of trying to earn your approval. That whole thing was a fucking mess—but I built my own life from it. So I don't need your acknowledgement; I just need you not to bring the rest of us down with you." Meili narrowed their eyes. "Funny how you're willing to hold it over my head when you think it'll get you something, though."

Frigga smiled, but she could feel the sharp edges to it. "Well," she said, "I suppose I should give credit where it's due—you did manage to outwit me, after all. So I'll expect you and Skuld to meet me tomorrow morning."

Meili grimaced like she'd threatened them. She supposed that was fair; she didn't imagine the experience would be pleasant for either of them.

"You're dismissed." It was, perhaps, a bit demeaning for a fellow member of the council—but at this point, she wasn't sure how much she cared.

-"Well," Aegir said, voice dry, "I'm happy the Head of the Council has finally decided to grace me with her presence."

Frigga narrowed her eyes. Aegir seemed oddly calm, for someone who was stuck in a cell. "You may leave, for now," she said to the guards.

They looked uncertain. "Master Frigga," one said, "didn't you send Anders earlier…?"

Anders has been talking with Aegir, has he? "Leave," she repeated, deciding to follow up on that later. "I need to speak with Aegir about his trial date."

The guards exchanged uncertain glances, but they obeyed, slipping out of the prison.

"Trial?" Aegir repeated. "That's what you have decided to do with me?"

"The council decided. It was the most…fair option."

"I'm sure you would prefer to just be rid of me."

Maybe—but she wasn't going to let Aegir provoke her into admitting that. "Your trial will be public," she continued, pretending that she hadn't heard, "and overseen by Masters Bryn and Leid."

"I suppose you couldn't be trusted to remain…objective."

"You tried to usurp me," she snapped, finally, and then paused a moment to just breathe.

Aegir looked grimly amused. "It wouldn't have been necessary," he said, "if you had simply acted when I requested you do so."

"You tried to assassinate the Union Leaders. If you were anyone else, you would've been exiled without trial. Did you even consider the consequences of your actions?" The anger burned—kept under wraps while she had to interact with the public, but finally spilling over now that the only one who could see her was the subject of her ire. "A public challenge like that could fracture the family. Parts of the city need to be rebuilt. The citizens are shaken—"

"And so are you, it seems."

Frigga bit off her tirade, breathing out slowly and trying to steady her nerves.

"Frigga," Aegir said, his voice low and serious, "there is nothing more important to me than our family. At our height, we were unstoppable. We could be again, under the right leadership."

(She thought of her conversation with Lydia, and wondered how many other people shared that opinion.)

"You have a lot of talent navigating the political sphere," Aegir continued. "It would be much better to have an alliance than to fight each other."

"You tried to usurp me," she repeated. "No, Aegir; there will be no alliance."

Anger flashed, if only briefly, across Aegir's face. "Be careful how you tread, Master Frigga; you wouldn't want to anger our family."

Frigga faltered—but only for a moment. "Your trial will occur in one month," she continued. "You will have the opportunity to prepare a defense. Someone will be down to speak with you further. I suggest you consider your words carefully." She turned, trying to still her shaking hands, without another word to Aegir.

(When she sent the guards back in, she made sure to tell them to report to her about anyone who visited, and wished she didn't have to worry about it at all.)

-Skuld and Brain didn't return to the apartment until close to sunset. Half of Meili wanted to check them over and make sure they were alright; the rest understood that the two of them were, in fact, still Union Leaders, and would be perfectly capable of fighting off most things that'd come after them. Stars, when did I become so paranoid?

It certainly didn't stop Kvasir, though. "You're back!" He practically launched himself across the room, to Skuld's laughter and Brain's vague annoyance. "You've been gone all day, so we thought—well, you guys can take care of yourselves, of course, but—"

"Kvasir," Meili called, "give them room to breathe."

Kvasir backed off with a sheepish smile. "Sorry, sorry! But—where did you go? Meili said they didn't see you in the Clock Tower."

The two of them exchanged glances, communicating something silently. Brain sighed finally, then pulled the Book of Prophecies out of his jacket.

That got a shocked noise out of Kvasir when he seemed to realize what they had, and he started peppering them with an onslaught of questions, which the two of them tried to answer with increasing exasperation.

A quiet chuckle came from beside Meili, and they glanced towards Mimir. They still looked tired, bags heavy under their eyes; there was something melancholy as they watched them, and Meili wasn't sure what to do about that at all, besides keep an eye on them. They knew what it was like, in a way, to struggle with your identity, but never in a "I'm actually kind of someone from the ancient past" sort of way. This felt significantly above their paygrade, and they had to stop and wonder, once again, how they'd gotten dragged into this.

"I didn't find it," Brain said, exasperated, voice rising above the chaos. "Meili did."

"Meili?!"

"You didn't have to drag me into it," Meili said, giving them a pointed look.

"How?" Kvasir asked, whipping around. "Isn't Master Frigga supposed to have it?"

Brain and Skuld were looking at them pointedly, now, and—well, it wasn't like they didn't know this conversation was coming. They did need to actually talk to Skuld about the deal they'd made, after all; they'd planned to tell her this morning, but she and Mimir had run off almost as soon as everyone was up, and then she'd disappeared for the rest of the day…

"She is." Meili checked the food they were supposed to be working on, then took it off the heat and turned towards the rest of them, arms folded. "Turns out, she kept it in a locked drawer in her office."

Skuld made a startled noise.

Brain didn't react quite as much, but something like recognition still flashed across his face. "Would've thought she'd be more careful with it."

"You kept it in your jacket," Skuld pointed out, and by Brain's disgruntled look Meili got the feeling that wasn't just when they were out today.

"Nobody knew I had it. It wasn't quite the same thing."

"How'd you get into her office?" Kvasir interjected. "Were you sneaking around last night, too?"

Mimir flinched, and Kvasir looked guilty, but Meili wasn't entirely sure they needed Kvasir to fumble with an apology right now, so they said, "She invited me."

Kvasir looked surprised. Brain's eyes narrowed. Skuld just tilted her head, eyebrows furrowed, and Mimir—Mimir didn't look like they were paying close attention to the conversation, but Meili could still see them casting uncertain sideways glances.

"She wanted to know what you two were up to." Meili leveled Skuld and Brain with a pointed look. "Apparently you weren't as subtle as you thought you were when you were snooping around."

Skuld's fists clenched, her expression going blank.

"So you told her," Brain said, expression carefully blank.

"Not exactly. I told her about Aegir—which I guess had some consequences." They gave the two Union Leaders a curious look. "Did either of you hear what happened while you were gone last night?"

Skuld's eyebrows furrowed, but Brain's eyes flashed with brief recognition. Well—at least one of them had an idea.

"Basically, Frigga got some people to go with her and arrest Aegir. It didn't end as well as she'd hoped it would, from the sounds of things. Aegir challenged her for her position as the Head of the Council. She won, but it wasn't exactly a clean victory."

"He can do that?" Skuld asked, attention switching between Meili and Kvasir.

Kvasir looked…uneasy. "He can," he admitted, "but it's—it doesn't happen often." His expression twisted with guilt, and they didn't need that, either.

"You aren't responsible for what your uncle did, kid."

"But—"

"No." Meili leveled him with a look, and he fell silent. They weren't actually sure it sank in, and they suppressed a groan as they realized they were probably going to have to talk about that later, too. "The council decided he'd be put on trial," they continued, deciding to put that on the shelf for now in favor of filling them in on the important bits. "For now, he's in a cell. He shouldn't be a problem, hopefully."

"But other people might be," Skuld finished, expression steely.

Meili sighed. "Yeah." They gave her a look they hoped was apologetic, but wasn't quite sure they managed. "That whole conversation with Frigga was a mess. I got lucky about some of it," they gestured toward the Book, "but some of it's…complicated."

"Complicated how?" Brain asked, visibly tensing like he was ready to fight.

It wasn't entirely something Meili had expected from him, and they couldn't help wondering what, exactly, the kids had seen while hunting for Mimir. "Complicated like, 'You and me are going to be training with Frigga starting tomorrow.'" They gestured between themself and Skuld.

Skuld blinked. "I'm already training with her."

This was the part she wasn't going to like. "Permanently."

The room went quiet. Meili watched as that information sunk in, Skuld's face slowly shifting to shock, and then to rage. "No."

"Kid—"

"No. You didn't have the right to make that offer for me."

"I know," they said, and suddenly they just felt tired. "You'll have to take that up with her tomorrow. She was pretty insistent about taking you on; she kind of backed me into a corner on it.

"I'll be with you twice a week, if it helps. It at least means I can keep an eye on what she's doing." They stared at her, then sighed, rubbing their forehead. "Sorry, kid. She wasn't really giving me a choice."

Skuld still didn't look happy; by the slump of her shoulders and the bags under her eyes, Meili got the impression that the only reason she wasn't fighting harder was because she was tired, not because she didn't have opinions. "You should've said no," she said, but the way she said it made it sound like she understood it was a losing argument, at this point.

Maybe they should've argued harder. It clearly wouldn't have been the end of the world if Frigga knew they were working with the Union Leaders; obviously, their attempts to keep that hidden didn't do much at all, if Frigga had figured out what was going on herself. (And they still weren't sure what she'd do with that information; knowing Frigga, it'd probably be something that would cause them stress.)

"Well," Brain said, "you could always ditch her."

The comment, surprisingly, drew a quiet laugh out of Skuld, even if it was short.

"I guess she can't complain if you already do it to everyone else," Meili said with a shrug, lips twitching towards a smile.

"I might, if she really does get overbearing." She sobered a little. "I guess it…might not be a bad idea. She knows the most about dealing with Darkness, right? Since they're still here…"

What. "Explain that, kid."

Skuld gave them a sheepish look that said they probably weren't going to like what she had to say. "When we went to find Mimir…"

-(Meili was going to ground them. They didn't care if two of them were Union Leaders and one had family of his own; if they were going to spend so much time at their place and try to give them a heart attack, it was the least they were allowed to do.

…They'd probably sneak out the window and find themselves in trouble, anyways, but it was the thought that counted.)

-Frigga should've gone home a long time ago—but here she was, still sitting in her office in the early hours of the morning. She wouldn't be able to sleep, anyways; there was still too much turning through her head, presenting her with uncertainties. The citizens of Scala ad Caelum need something that will convince them that they're safe—or else I'll have a problem on two fronts. With everything the Union Leaders have been through—they might decide to turn against us entirely. Lead an uprising, maybe. She laughed, but it was a bitter-sounding thing. It'd be enough to turn even the more hesitant members of our family against them. I suppose at least there wouldn't be much infighting—but another fight could fracture our world apart. I need to at least stave things off until Darkness is contained.

(You don't want to give up your leadership, either, some part of her whispered. You know that support would help strengthen your weakening foothold.

And if I don't? she argued back, too tired to pretend. I have been the Head of the Council for years. Is it so wrong for me to feel angry that they want to oust me when I become inconvenient for them?)

There wasn't much of a choice, really, even if she wasn't sure the Union Leaders would be particularly happy about it. If she was unlucky, they would ignore her entirely. Still, she had to try. Better to cut her losses and lick her wounds later; she'd need the Union Leaders' support if she wanted to do anything.

So when morning finally dawned, she was waiting for them at the Clock Tower's entrance, a grim sort of smile on her face. "I have a proposition for you."

Mostly just a transitional chapter this time! There were a couple of conversations that needed to be had before we could move forward, aha.