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….
"Enter."
It took Frigga mere moments to shift her voice from the soft whisper of an ordinary woman to the commanding imperiousness of a Queen.
This ability to separate personal communication from an official tone had always caused a certain envy in the young goddess, she couldn't do that.
"My Queen," the guest bowed courteously, not forgetting to cast a glance at Odin's wife's now-silent companions.
One of them aroused no interest, an ordinary woman who was unlikely to have held anything heavier than a spindle or a ladle; besides, her strange clothes looked rather ridiculous and alien in the setting of the palace of Asgard's rulers.
The other, however…
Her clothes were also unusual, as were her facial features, at first glance, similar to those inherent to natives of Vanaheim, but still not quite the same.
But that wasn't the main thing. A fleeting glance was enough for the warrior maiden to recognize a fellow warrior.
Posture, expression of the eyes, position of the hands, right now this mortal was relaxed, but her whole body screamed of readiness to rush into an attack at any moment.
It wasn't a signal of distrust or aggression, just a habit, a developed and reinforced reflex.
And she was beautiful, the goddess noted with a touch of jealousy. A sort of exotic beauty of the Vanir, whom she resembled slightly in the face.
Sif even began to suspect why Loki had accepted this woman's service so quickly… men, what can you expect from them?
"Lady Sif," the older woman nodded, allowing a slight chill to slip into her intonation. A bad sign, which the guest would undoubtedly have caught were she in a less agitated state, but alas.
"My Queen, I would like to speak with you…"
"Can't it wait? I am somewhat busy with my son's guests right now," the degree of cold increased.
"I apologize, but no, the conversation concerns your son precisely…"
"Very well," Odin's wife sighed and turned to the mortals. "Please forgive me, it seems I have urgent business. I suggest continuing our conversation at dinner tonight, if you don't mind."
"O-of course, Lady Frigga," the "peaceful" mortal answered. Her warrior friend just nodded.
"Then we will leave you," the Queen inclined her head politely and smiled warmly. "I recommend passing the time on the observation decks, sunset will begin soon, and a beautiful view will open up to you."
"Thank you for your hospitality," Yuriko bowed politely.
Smiling once more, this time with just her eyes, the senior goddess turned to the exit and beckoned Sif to follow. Soon they were in the corridor.
"So, what did you want to talk about?" the smile on Frigga's lips didn't last long, only until she turned to the warrior maiden.
"About Thor and Loki!"
"King Loki," the woman corrected her in a tone that allowed not even a hint of disobedience. "My son is your King."
At this moment, Thor's faithful companion began to suspect that her friends were right and that cunning bastard hadn't objected to their conversation with his mother for a reason.
"I apologize, my Lady," Sif bowed her head.
"I forgive you. What did you want to say about Thor and Loki?"
"Loki… he!.." the girl took a deep breath, trying to calm down. "We asked him to return Thor from exile, because Asgard needs the power of the God of Thunder now more than ever, but he refused, citing some unintelligible excuses! And this after what Thor did for him! He usurped the throne!"
"You. Dare. Accuse. My. Son. Of seizing power?" slowly, without raising her voice, but in a way that made everything inside Sif tremble, the Queen asked.
"You claim he has 'unintelligible excuses'? Do you know that he left for Midgard himself so as not to interfere with Thor? That I had to personally find him and persuade him to take his father's throne, and he agreed only after I appealed to his Duty?!"
"B-but… the exile…" Sif bleated, lost.
"Was imposed justly. As a mother, it hurts me to admit this, but as a Queen, I understand my husband's decision. And I am extremely disappointed in you, who called yourselves Thor's friends… and Loki's. I am extremely disappointed in you, Sif. Instead of stopping the prince's hotheadedness, you decided to indulge his childish whims. And now," the furious woman waved her hand, as if suggesting looking at what was happening to the world around them.
"The Allfather has fallen into Sleep, for decades, maybe centuries. And all you do is slander the Aesir who was forced to shoulder his burden? Is this why, in a thousand years of living in Asgard, Loki never decided to accept anyone as his friend? Get out and don't dare show yourself to me!"
"My Quee…"
"I said, get out!"
A magical blow knocked the air out of the girl's lungs and threw her back several steps. The results of the audience clearly did not match Sif's expectations.
….
Closer to evening. Asgard. Depths of the palace:-
Odin's Vault was a separate structure inside the palace, erected at the junction of two bridges passing through a colossally huge hall that could easily fit several Earth stadiums.
Each bridge had two narrow spans, easily viewed from any point. Falling from them to the bottom of the hall would mean death even for an Aesir, so great was the height, and the builders had taken care of "pleasant" surprises for such a jumper, additionally turning the entire inner surface of the hall into a deadly trap that was undesirable to touch even for the owners of this place.
One could get to the treasury only via the round-the-clock guarded bridges and no other way.
And the monolith of the treasury itself looked from the outside like a sort of chest suspended on chains, even though it was the size of a good apartment building.
True, perhaps that last association was just a twist of my sick consciousness, which in childhood had taken too close to heart some Soviet cartoon about Koschei the Deathless and his famous chest (in which was a hare, in which was a duck, in which was an egg, and so on), which hung on an oak tree in chains.
Actually, I'm not sure of anything anymore, not after I dragged a small child into the holy of holies of Asgard, literally into a repository of a bunch of deadly divine artifacts.
I honestly thought I was of sound mind and memory, but when I thought about it… I realized that, somehow… not really. Somehow not at all.
Although wait… It's all Odin's fault! Definitely him! He dragged Thor and me here at about the same age too!
Oh, hell.
I am his grandson, and this, it turns out, is direct proof that family idiocy has been transmitted to me too… On the one hand, this, of course, explains a lot in the life of my predecessor, but…
No… Please, no, I don't want to…
….
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