asgardsmother | FRIGG'S TEMPLE

FRIGG'S TEMPLE - OPEN LOG

welcome to báðum hǫndum.

Who: ANYONE; Frigg may or may not appear if asked to (and even if not!)
What: Any interactions that take place in Frigg's temple.
When: ANYTIME; the temple does not lock or close in any way, and this log is permanently open.
Where: Báðum Hǫndum, in Frigg's district.
Rating: Please take anything adult rated to a private log; everything else is welcome.

This is a permanent open log for anything that takes place in Frigg's temple. Using this log is completely optional and you are welcome to use the log community instead. This is just one easy way to get an NPC handler's eyes on something you may want Frigg to be aware of, whether the goddess actually makes an appearance in your thread or not. You are welcome to play out threads with other characters as well, or even just leave your own comment of something your character is doing alone in the temple. This is a completely open action log for literally anything.

If your character wishes to make contact with Frigg, you can simply leave a comment here with an OOC note or plot it out ahead of time! How your character attempts to gain her attention is their choice, just as it is her choice whether or not to respond. Comments on this post are valid for AC.

navigation.

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Her arm is still bandaged, a sharp white compared to the black of her dress. They've already approached Heimdall with their proposal, the talks seeming to be met with an openness she hadn't anticipated. Gods were supposed to be prideful things (if they even existed), weren't they? Why would they accept a foreigner's proposition?

Nevertheless, his reception is what prompts Dany to approach Frigg. She recalls the woman with her own goddess, Sigyn, the day she woke in this realm. It hadn't taken much effort to learn what the woman's specialties were. One for battle, the other for support. If they had that, perhaps this council would hold even better standing within the realm.

"I used to send a prayer now and then to the Great Stallion," she says by way of greeting to the empty temple, "But he never answered me. I assumed it was because I was a woman, or because I wasn't Dothraki. Perhaps he thought a blessing of strength would be wasted on me."

The temple itself is beautiful, though she's few things to compare it to. Clearly what's been maintained is in reverence to the woman she seeks an audience with.

"You must forgive my manners, lady goddess, but my brother never saw it fit to teach me much of the gods... or the proper way to address one."

"Frigg is just fine, my dear." There's no warning, except for the whisper of a breeze around her, before the voice answers. The goddess' footsteps are soft as they approach her, until she comes to a stop just before her. Frigg had known as soon as Dany entered her temple; she always does, when someone seeks this place out, but there's no doubt she and the others feel the Wanderer's spirits more keenly, tied as they are to their own. "I won't pretend to understand the gods of your world, but I am certain of this: no blessing of strength would be wasted on you, Daenerys."

Her temple is meant to be a place of comfort, and though Dany has not chosen her, Frigg would still wish for her to see it as such. The warm presence Dany might have sensed upon entering the temple lingers about her as Frigg settles in one of the cozy chairs scattered around the room.

"Come," she says, waving a hand, asking her to join her. "Talk to me. You sought me at my temple for a reason."

"Frigg, then." She doesn't say that she'd almost chosen this goddess. That she'd felt a certain pull toward her just as she had Sigyn the day she'd chosen. Some of that pull still remains, like some sort of knowing she can't quite put her finger on. "If blessings are real, they're far better spent on my people these days."

But what would the goddess know of the Night King? Luckily, there is no chill in this temple. Nothing to remind Dany of the cold beyond the Wall or the loss of her dragon--which is why she follows the other woman, settling in a chair.

Jon is with his siblings exploring the large hole left in the dragon's wake, leaving her to tend to matters about the council they wish to establish. Fine enough with her, to keep her busy from dwelling on no longer being Unburnt or the fact that she'd disrespected a dragon's corpse for its teeth.

"In my world, we don't have hospitals. Not like the one you have. There are the studied men, maesters, and then there are healers: priests, priestesses... witches." Digressing. She shakes her head. "A maester in learning healed my dearest friend and advisor from an otherwise incurable disease."

Suffice it to say, despite her experiences with some self-proclaimed healers, she's great gratitude toward many.

"I seek your support in our endeavors to protect the realm. In war, a healer is a powerful force to have on one's side. The fighters have the support of Heimdall, but I imagine we both understand that every fierce warrior requires more than just battle."

A leading force. Healers. Guidance. She could list a great many things, as well as the things which Frigg's presence inspires.

"You speak truly," Frigg says, hands clasped on her stomach as she listens. Though she has appreciation for the way Dany carries herself and speaks her mind, it's with a degree of certainty that Frigg believes she must have suffered through much to become the woman sitting in front of her now, young as she is.

"Hands to wield the swords are necessary to defend or fight, but who cares for those wounded in battle? The work does not end once a war or any battle does." Frigg leans forward, gaze intent on Dany's face. "You seek to protect our city--it would be callous of us to deny you support. What would you ask for?"

"Healing begins once the battle is over," she agrees with an incline of the head. What does she ask for, though, save support? "In far more ways than one might imagine. A dragon does not plant trees, Frigg. I only know what my family's words are: fire and blood.

"But I do know that there are healers in this realm. Wanderers. Some are more advanced in their learnings — but none will be nearly as knowledgeable as a goddess and her experiences."

And though she may have her misgivings of gods and goddesses just like any other Wanderer, Dany can at least acknowledge that one who has lived for so long will know things many her age will not.

"I wish for your attendance to our council meetings, not merely as a figure of support, but as one of guidance when the need arises."

It's such a simple thing, what Dany asks of her. Greed is not such an unfamiliar thing, when you are a goddess, and have the power to spare. Whatever reason these Wanderers were brought to this realm, Frigg supposes she can be grateful they seem of the decent kind thus far.

"If that's all you'd wish for, you shall have it," Frigg says, gladly enough. "You need only inform me when you hold your meetings, and you have my word that I'll attend."

"You have my gratitude, lady goddess." Old habits die hard with her manners. "And that which you require of either me or mine shall be happily returned — within reason."

She can't speak for others who do not claim her as their queen, but she knows, at least, that Jon would be happy to help. Perhaps even Robb.

"It's not the only request." This one — it's not so much on her behalf, and she does feel strange making it for a dead man and woman. "We offer this council as a way to allow you and yours to search for a means to return us home. The dead threaten my world. He took one of my children from me. I've no desire of him taking anyone else."

It's one of the few times she's said it out loud. The Night King took Viserion from her. Might be she appears unaffected, but there are smaller tells: the slight flaring of her nostrils, the thinning of her lips, the way her gaze briefly lowers.

"But there are dead here, alive again. Ones not controlled by the Night King. If you find a way to return us, I ask that those given a second chance are given the choice to either remain here, or to leave."

[So. He's still not trustful of gods. It's a weird territory for him, considering all he's gone through. A terrible childhood, living in a society that essentially worshipped a demon and wanting none of that himself, angry at so much because everyone seemed to hate him for simply existing.

Ironic that that demon the entire island seemed so fond of is actually his grandfather, now that he knows. Hah.

Going to Frigg's temple is hard, Nero very obviously taking his time in entering. There's a bundle of flowers in his hand, unsure of what else to offer to her, Vergil's words of playing the part resonating in his head as he goes, exhaling quietly.

He hates this, he's bad at it. But honestly, he's at his wit's end here. He can't get anything else to work.]

Brought these for you. [His eyes flick from the flowers to the temple, and how quiet it is. Great, he's... talking to the air. This is so stupid, he feels stupid. But, he sits down and swallows his pride for once and forces the words out before he chokes on them.]

So... yeah. Look, I'm not great at this. But I've got the van since probably around when we first got here? I've been working on her for months now- she needs fuel, though. Can't get her to start, otherwise. Tried jumping the engine, tried rerouting her spark plugs, she'll give a sound, but can't stay on. [Exhaling through his teeth, he stands.] Dunno what you can do, but anything would help at this point.

[Okay, he's done, that's it. He's been here too long, so out he heads for the door, leaving the flowers behind on a seat, unsure where else to put them now that his request is done.]

[[Frigg is free to respond or not- Nero is simply making a housecall for a favor for the van! Consider this the official documentation.]]

( on his way out the door, he'll hear a gentle clearing of a throat. should he turn around, he'll find frigg - and looking very much out-of-place in her hand is a plastic orange gas can, offered out by the handle not unlike one's mother or aunt might offer a basket of muffins to take for the road.

she knows that he's uncomfortable. it honestly warms her heart that he's come at all, and brought flowers as well. in exchange for that warmth, she'll do her part in letting him leave without trying to pull him into awkward conversation. if he comes back for the offered can, she'll simply say: )

Should this fall empty, you'll find it full by morning.

[He pauses at the sound- well, stiffens, more like it- before turning around to view Frigg merely a few feet away, gas can in hand. There is a very long pause on his end, almost as if he's debating going back, or simply leaving without saying a word. Old habits demand the latter, but new(er) habits at least speak up, so he does.]

...no catch, right?

[He approaches quietly, a bit of hesitation in his step, but close enough to look Frigg in the eyes. It's... odd, to come face to face with an actual god- when the one supposed "god" back home is long gone, and his grandfather. He's not really expecting one, but there's always that second guess, because life has been hard for him.]

( a catch? she hadn't even considered it. her brows flicker, momentarily puzzled, then: )

None, but a humble request that you at least begin to consider allowing a bond of trust to forge between us. At whatever pace is comfortable for you, of course.

( but he isn't expected to address that concept now - a shake of her head says as much, releasing him from any obligation of lingering in this conversation. she back up a step with a quiet, reassuring smile. )

Use it well. ( and with that, she'll turn to head deeper into her temple. )

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FRIGG'S TEMPLE - OPEN LOG

backdated; a few days after red death's attack

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sooooometime previously? before this date? w/e I'm bad with times

handwaves vaguely about time

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