Post by frigga on Feb 27, 2012 22:09:25 GMT -4
Hugin and Munin cawed and ruffled their feathers. Frigga heard the clack of their beaks as she stepped outside of the All-Father's bedchambers. The guards that stood on the outside wall bowed to her, armor clanking as well. She only nodded and turned to continue her path. She could recall times when she could stay at Odin's side during his sleep, never once having cause to leave him, but she could not claim that want any longer. The silence was no longer comforting and she found herself growing anxious the more time she spent there. Who knew what laid outside the chamber and she could not deny a shudder that she had to suppress whenever she stepped outside its walls, but what did it matter? Asgard did not feel like the Realm Eternal, anymore. It was not that she didn't feel safe, though she certainly did not feel secure. It was that the warmth that had once accompanied the palace and seemed to seep into its walls was now gone.
She truly felt alone, an isolation even her servants and handmaidens could not fill. She was the last of the royal line in Asgard, the only one there, capable of function. She could rule, the realms were peaceful, but she knew this tension of peace. Everyone around her enjoyed their lives and seeing such laughter was the only thing that kept the whole of Asgard from witnessing her emotions as they had on occasions before. She could not blanket the city in a mist, she was still very much saddened, but why ruin the lives of her subjects? Someone deserved to be happy, even if not her.
She had to think of Asgard. And when she put it that way it was easy to lock away the grief. She viewed the realm as her child and if she had to smile for it to thrive, then she would smile even if her cheeks ached and her lips felt near splitting. Let her heart break, but spare the others. She stepped out on balcony and took in the realm and its golden sunset.
Peace was a fickle thing, so many meanings, so many places to find it. Asgard appeared strong and at harmony, but was it truly? In the chinks in the buildings through the foundation of the city's streets, was peace all-consuming or was someone lying, crouching, begging because they were not happy. She certainly wasn't. She had not had the solace of inner peace for a long time, though she had lived for millenia. Yet how long had her own heart ached for her children? Knowing inevitably what could and perhaps would happen? And yet she was powerless. The sun did not warm her, it brought her no joy and she was quickly back in the shadows of the palace and its pillars.
She made her way to the reception hall, where the throne of Asgard sat. Gungnir rested crossways over the seat. She paid no heed at first to the guards that stood at the doors to wade off any unwanted intruder to the room. Not until she had climbed the steps and took the seat Odin had so often taken himself, decked in his kingly vestments. She drew Gungnir across her lap. For a moment the hall was silent and then she looked at the guards.
“Show yourselves out, the room is open for court. I will take any visitor.” She told them, her voice flat. “Just leave me.”
She waved her hand to usher them away. There was no threat in Asgard she had not faced and no reason for them to be here. A monarch was the on the throne she could debate, hold court, and negotiate herself. She was not Queen of Asgard and foolish. She was a diplomat, raised in such customs as nation building and maintaining. She knew the behaviors of government.
The guards in practiced manuever turned and left, filing from the room, one after another. Then the room was silent and as she moved Gungnir to tap the floor, it echoed and she shut her eyes. She would smile for Asgard. She would be the mother and ruler it needed. She had no choice but to hide her grief, but in this moment, all alone she let her weight bow her shoulders and she looked weary. It was a mere moment and then she was sitting straight, queenly composure back in place. Her face was blank and her pain was locked away. Yet it was becoming harder and harder the shut the latch once she'd already opened it.
She truly felt alone, an isolation even her servants and handmaidens could not fill. She was the last of the royal line in Asgard, the only one there, capable of function. She could rule, the realms were peaceful, but she knew this tension of peace. Everyone around her enjoyed their lives and seeing such laughter was the only thing that kept the whole of Asgard from witnessing her emotions as they had on occasions before. She could not blanket the city in a mist, she was still very much saddened, but why ruin the lives of her subjects? Someone deserved to be happy, even if not her.
She had to think of Asgard. And when she put it that way it was easy to lock away the grief. She viewed the realm as her child and if she had to smile for it to thrive, then she would smile even if her cheeks ached and her lips felt near splitting. Let her heart break, but spare the others. She stepped out on balcony and took in the realm and its golden sunset.
Peace was a fickle thing, so many meanings, so many places to find it. Asgard appeared strong and at harmony, but was it truly? In the chinks in the buildings through the foundation of the city's streets, was peace all-consuming or was someone lying, crouching, begging because they were not happy. She certainly wasn't. She had not had the solace of inner peace for a long time, though she had lived for millenia. Yet how long had her own heart ached for her children? Knowing inevitably what could and perhaps would happen? And yet she was powerless. The sun did not warm her, it brought her no joy and she was quickly back in the shadows of the palace and its pillars.
She made her way to the reception hall, where the throne of Asgard sat. Gungnir rested crossways over the seat. She paid no heed at first to the guards that stood at the doors to wade off any unwanted intruder to the room. Not until she had climbed the steps and took the seat Odin had so often taken himself, decked in his kingly vestments. She drew Gungnir across her lap. For a moment the hall was silent and then she looked at the guards.
“Show yourselves out, the room is open for court. I will take any visitor.” She told them, her voice flat. “Just leave me.”
She waved her hand to usher them away. There was no threat in Asgard she had not faced and no reason for them to be here. A monarch was the on the throne she could debate, hold court, and negotiate herself. She was not Queen of Asgard and foolish. She was a diplomat, raised in such customs as nation building and maintaining. She knew the behaviors of government.
The guards in practiced manuever turned and left, filing from the room, one after another. Then the room was silent and as she moved Gungnir to tap the floor, it echoed and she shut her eyes. She would smile for Asgard. She would be the mother and ruler it needed. She had no choice but to hide her grief, but in this moment, all alone she let her weight bow her shoulders and she looked weary. It was a mere moment and then she was sitting straight, queenly composure back in place. Her face was blank and her pain was locked away. Yet it was becoming harder and harder the shut the latch once she'd already opened it.