Mother Dearest

First Trick

Frigga returned to the bedroom after an hour, Loki in her arms and Lífdís walking behind her. She pushed open the door and found Thor jumping up and down on the bed. The side she had painstakingly straightened earlier was now a crumpled mess with the pillows strewn across the floor. All of the empty breakfast plates and cups were neatly stacked on the table, waiting for a servant to come and remove them. Odin was just coming out of one of the adjoining dressing rooms, adjusting his belt and parts of his suit and grumbling as he walked forward. He glanced up at Frigga and smiled.

"Ah. My dear, could you help me with this, please?" said Odin. "I would ask one of the servants to do it, but no one can dress me like you can."

"That's because it's a wife's job." Frigga smiled. "Only a wife can dress her man." The All-Mother ignored her bounding son, for the time being, and handed Loki over to the nursemaid and walked across the room to help with Odin's armor. She straightened out his cape and shoulder guards and pushed his chest plates into place.

"Really, dear husband, must you wear all of this today?" Frigga griped, grabbing hold of the massive belt and shifting it around and buckling it in front.

"It's what I'll be wearing at tonight's ceremony and activities. I had to see if it still fits."

"Thor, that's enough. Get down this instant," Frigga said sternly, turning around to face the annoying bouncing and squeaking that was still going on behind her.

"Lífdís, help him off the bed." She motioned for the nursemaid to assist Thor down before addressing her son again. "How many times have I told you not to jump on the beds?"

"I'm sowwy, Mommy," said Thor, practically jumping into Lífdís's arms. The woman struggled to keep her hold on Loki while trying to prevent Thor from injuring himself on the night table. When Thor was finally brought under control, Lífdís bent over and put the stray pillows back on the bed and tried to straighten out the sheets to look somewhat presentable.

"You don't have to worry with that, Lífdís, the servants will tend to it later."

"Yes, my lady."

"He's a child, Frigga; let him have fun while he's still young." Odin smiled as he watched the nursemaid lead Thor to the door.

"He can have fun all he wants, but I'll not have him destroying the furniture."

"Pssh, jumping on the beds won't destroy them. I used to do it myself when I was Thor's age."

"But did your parents allow it?"

"Well, no, but I did it anyway when they weren't looking. Everything was fine. The bed wasn't destroyed."

Frigga smirked and shook her head while doing more adjusting to Odin's belt. Like father, like son, she thought.

"There! I think that will do," she said.

Odin inspected his wife's work, nodding approvingly. He turned to peer at his reflection in a nearby mirror, turning around. "It still fits perfectly, don't you think?"

"Of course, it does. You haven't put on that much weight since you left. All of that fighting has kept you fit and limber. Stop worrying about it. You look wonderful." The All-Mother smiled.

"Thank you, my dear." Odin looked at his wounded face, his brow furrowing. "Now I just need to get an eye patch made for this eye of mine. I'll speak with the dwarfs this afternoon. Maybe they can have it done by tonight. Can't go to the funeral and celebration looking like this." He patted and poked at the bandages, wincing at the pain he felt shoot through the side of his head.