15791/Mothering Us All

Mothering Us All
Date of Scene:	04 September 2023
Location:	Asgardian Embassy
Synopsis:	Frigga and Mary Jane greet and exchange gifts and pleasantries.
Cast of Characters:	Mary Jane Watson, Frigga

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Mary Jane Watson has posed:
I'ts been awhile since she had dropped over to the Asgardian Embassy. So, Mary Jane is dropping on by, having made sure to let whomever was at the desk know she was coming. She wasn't sure it had gone through - Fandral had been dueling Volstagg over which of them had won some wager when the two first met that was over a rather inane, highly specific circumstance. So, passing by a duel being done with pots and pans and other things from the kitchen, Mary Jane would head on into the gardens.

Frigga has posed:
Boys will be boys, won't they? The pair had received a humored warning but a warning all the same that said pots and pans must be returned in working condition by day's end. The affairs of the Embassy rarely ceases, and as such, the odd choices of weaponry must needs be pressed into proper service later.

In other words, Frigga knows all about the 'duel'.

The Queen of Asgard is indeed out in her gardens, draped in those golds and greens with touches of silver. Wheat-colored hair is pulled up in an array of braids that only one of her maids can fathom, and she crouches, working the dirt and the vestiges of green with her hands. The air is cooler now in the evenings, and the plants are beginning to respond to it by either putting forth their late fruit, or their leaves beginning to turn that tan.

Mary Jane's arrival into the gardens is noted by one of Frigga's maidservants, and a whisper is given forth. The Queen only nods her acknowledgement, or perhaps in the fact that she already knows of MJ's presence. Rising once again with leaves in hand, she turns to attend the approach.

Mary Jane Watson has posed:
There would never be any stop to the antics. It would be too much of a disappointment for everyone if they ever were to go on pause for an extended period of time. It was just the way things were. Mary Jane goes to head on in and gives a wave. "Hey, I thought I'd check in and see how you were doing. Ig uess that being childish is something that doesn't change with age."

She would tease over while going in to give a bow over to Frigga, "Greetings All-Mother, it's a pleasure. Thank you for having me. I just thought that I would drop in and see how you were doing. I hope that affairs have been well since the Odinson returned, hopefully with somewhat more dignity intact." She would chrip and then go in if allowed to move over to give a tight hug to Frigga. Well, tight by human standards - not particularly tight by Asgardian standards.

Frigga has posed:
A soft chuckle comes from her throat as keen, clear blue eyes move into the direction where the occasional *clang* can be heard. "It will only hurt Volstagg if any cookware is damaged." That boy can eat! Frigga's attention moves back to MJ, and she shakes her head, "Nothing changes. Some like to play at being old and responsible, but somewhere in there always lurks the child." Who is she talking about? Hmmmm?

The bow is acknowledged with a dip of her head, and setting the contents of her hand into a pocket, takes a step forward for the embrace. Mother to all? It's held for a few heartbeats until she judges just the perfect time to break. Perhaps the young woman needed it, but there was that underlying //energy// that is felt. Perhaps it, she'd felt it as well?

"I am making something for you. Something of my own creation. It's not done yet, but.." Frigga finds one of the alabaster benches and beckons MJ to sit beside her once her comfort is gained. Her pouch is pulled forth, and she plucks a small linen bag from it with some carefully embroidered runes in gold thread. "It will be done in another couple of weeks, weather permitting."

Mary Jane Watson has posed:
Mary Jane Watson would go to listen to the side as the playful melee would go on. "So long as it's in a state where he can use it to satiate himself right after I suppose all will be well. I guess if he was ever hurt, rather than an IV of mead, they'd probably have to do one of turkey gravy for him?" She would deadpan over about Volstagg - though that could be rather accurate for all that she knew.

then she goes to let out a sigh, "Thank you. I needed that. Bit too many things going on and I hvae to compartmentalize too many of them. So it's nice to be able to just loosen up for a little while and not have to worry on everything else that could happen or that I have to keep separate."

She would go to bow her head over and then cock it and flush, "All-Mother, you didn't. Thank. . Thank you it's gorgeous. I'm not worthy of it.." She would stammer and keep her face flushed. "I also brought something for you, though I can't claim that it's nearly as perfect."

Frigga has posed:
"Oh, he bleeds as others, though there had been rumors of it being an au jus or some such," Frigga jests. "We do love him all the same." One of the 'boys' that grew up side by side with her sons.

"I hadn't answered before, and I do apologize. Thor is returned, yes. I do consider Loki to be Odinson as well," and it is a gentle chide; a mother defending her less than perfect son. While he can do wrong, yet she loves him. (Some say that he is her favorite, but she is absolutely adamant that she holds no favorites.) "And safely, which I am absolutely grateful for."

Once done, Frigga's gaze remains light, but there is that hint of searching, of study. "Well," she says finally, "you are always welcome here, regardless of what shoes you wear. If I am not here, ask the guards to inquire with Heimdall, and should I be able to cease what it is I am doing, I would be happy to attend and either sit here in the garden in silence with you, or lend an ear."

Mom.

The smile and the obvious pleasure and joy that the small gift brings has Frigga smiling a little wider, a warm expression for sure. "It's not finished, but when it is, I think you might like it. Just a touch of magic that may come in handy." Hmm! The liltly, lofty tones, however, send a message perhaps that she won't give answer as to //what// it may do. Nope.

"Did you? That is very kind of you. You do know that you didn't have to."

Mary Jane Watson has posed:
Mary Jane Watson would laugh, "Got it. I hope that he hasn't picked up the Midgardian tradition of standing underenath the Mistletoe over with Balder. I'm no tsure that would go down well in the family." Then again from reputation that would be something that would totally be up the younger Odinson's sleeve. And love is love. A mother's love is unconditional. Some things never change, no matter the circumstances or the whatevers. It is always there, always open.

"OF course. Heimdall's the very big one that's quiet but really scary." Unlike other Asgardians whom were often very loud and scary. It was the quiet ones you had to look out for. Like Fandral going along on occasion and merely saying 'boo' over to anyone over.

"Thank you. I can't wait to see it finished. And you're being so kind to me, All-Mother. One gift deserves one back. That is the way that traditions go." Mary Jane goes to reach over to a pocket on her jacket, and moves to take out a small, silk embroidered bag.

In it are a set of small wyvern bones embroidered over with ivory and silver to give it a tone not quite mithril - the type normally used for rituals involving seeing what the bones would say when they rested upon the ground and one asked for predictions.

Frigga has posed:
Frigga chuckles softly and shakes her head, "No, mistletoe isn't quite that important here..." Her words do fade into a hint of silence before she rouses herself.

"Yes, that is indeed Heimdall. He is all seeing. If he searches for one, it is rare that they can evade his gaze." Which is exactly what she loves about him. She can keep track of some with him. Quietly, of course. "He is also the guardian of the Bifrost. So, I'm certain you've seen him.." Yes, the big, quiet one. One of her main and beloved champions.

Brows do rise as MJ takes the gift from her pocket. A small silk embroidered bag. "Hmm," is said curiously, more an utterance than a word. "Interesting." She pours the bones into her hand, and her lips part as she draws a breath. She knows exactly what they're for, and, well, the Queen is more than experienced in such divinations. She and the Norn are on first name bases. While she may know Fate, and understands it (for the most part), there is very little she can do to change it. Such is the universe.

"They are lovely," is breathed softly. "And dear." They are gently replaced into the bag, and she looks beside her, "You are very kind, and thoughtful. Thank you."

Mary Jane Watson has posed:
Mary Jane Watson would laugh softly, "Yes. Or I suppose that he's seen me and what I'm doing. He knows whatever you're up to. There's a lot of things that can be said about that. A lot of them.. Well, so long as he's not Santa Claus." Whom is definitely, totally real. And spies on everything you do, and judges you. And breaks into your house once a year no matter how well you hide or you defend yourself.

The carved bone dice are likelier meant for show and instruction - they were a bit toos hiny. "You're welcome, All-Mother. A pleasure that you appreciate them so much. They were carved from some of the mounts the Svartelfs rode in on when htey attacked Midgard last year."

Frigga has posed:
There is something of a shadow that crosses across those clear blue eyes, and her hand reflexively closes on the bag. It's there, and gone. The war absolutely affected her and hers, and this as a reminder? It's a reminder that they are the victor; dice to be made from the bones of their enemies. That is all they were good for; for casting lots.

"It should be interesting, then, as to what they tell me." Or how.

Rising from her spot, Frigga gestures, "Come, walk with me a little before we have our dinner."