Dinnertime is Awkward Around the Palace
Fandom: Thor (Marvel)
Characters: Volstagg, Fandrall, Hogun, Frigga, Odin, Loki
Pairings: Odin/Frigga -- Assumed
Setting: Odin's palace, right after Thor has been banished to Midgard
The head table stands upright again. It's lavishly spread as always, and, as always, all the same denizens of the palace are there. The Warriors Three creep in like whipped puppies. Fandrall sits with his head down like Hogun, and even Volstagg the Voluminous is slow to pull the serving trays his way. In her spot at the Allfather's side, the Lady Frigga looks at them, her face amused and disapproving.
Then she looks at her husband. “I remember a brash young warrior.” Her voice is clear and carrying. He thought he went to Jotunheimr to save his father, but instead he passed right by him and went and slew their King in battle instead.” She puts her head to one side. “Now what was that warrior's name?”
“Mother.” Loki looks embarrassed, but then he always looks embarrassed. It's part of what makes him Loki, and less fun to be around than his older brother. “Everyone has heard these stories before.” He puts a warning hand on her arm.
His mother shakes it off like she would a fly. “Husband, I spoke to you.”
The Allfather's face is unreadable. “You forget your place, wife,” he says. “These conversations are for our bedchamber, rather than in public.”
“You think?” She gives a tinkling laugh. “I think they would have been best had before the decision was made, when my son was still here in Asgard with his people. Don't you?”
He looks away. “Sometimes things are clearer when one looks backwards.” Pulling a tray close, he serves himself lavishly, bread, and meat, and sweetmeats, piled in profusion on his plate. He bangs his goblet on the table. “Servitor! I need wine here!”
“Lord Odin is King.” Loki says it softly at first. Then he speaks up. “He is King,” he repeats. “How dare any question his decisions?” Raising his filled goblet, he stands. “To Lord Odin!”
At once, everyone is on their feet. “To Lord Odin,” they cry, and they drain their goblets. If the wine is not so sweet as it was when Thor was there, none say so. And they pretend not to notice that evening, when their Lord and his Lady eat next to nothing.
Characters: Volstagg, Fandrall, Hogun, Frigga, Odin, Loki
Pairings: Odin/Frigga -- Assumed
Setting: Odin's palace, right after Thor has been banished to Midgard
The head table stands upright again. It's lavishly spread as always, and, as always, all the same denizens of the palace are there. The Warriors Three creep in like whipped puppies. Fandrall sits with his head down like Hogun, and even Volstagg the Voluminous is slow to pull the serving trays his way. In her spot at the Allfather's side, the Lady Frigga looks at them, her face amused and disapproving.
Then she looks at her husband. “I remember a brash young warrior.” Her voice is clear and carrying. He thought he went to Jotunheimr to save his father, but instead he passed right by him and went and slew their King in battle instead.” She puts her head to one side. “Now what was that warrior's name?”
“Mother.” Loki looks embarrassed, but then he always looks embarrassed. It's part of what makes him Loki, and less fun to be around than his older brother. “Everyone has heard these stories before.” He puts a warning hand on her arm.
His mother shakes it off like she would a fly. “Husband, I spoke to you.”
The Allfather's face is unreadable. “You forget your place, wife,” he says. “These conversations are for our bedchamber, rather than in public.”
“You think?” She gives a tinkling laugh. “I think they would have been best had before the decision was made, when my son was still here in Asgard with his people. Don't you?”
He looks away. “Sometimes things are clearer when one looks backwards.” Pulling a tray close, he serves himself lavishly, bread, and meat, and sweetmeats, piled in profusion on his plate. He bangs his goblet on the table. “Servitor! I need wine here!”
“Lord Odin is King.” Loki says it softly at first. Then he speaks up. “He is King,” he repeats. “How dare any question his decisions?” Raising his filled goblet, he stands. “To Lord Odin!”
At once, everyone is on their feet. “To Lord Odin,” they cry, and they drain their goblets. If the wine is not so sweet as it was when Thor was there, none say so. And they pretend not to notice that evening, when their Lord and his Lady eat next to nothing.