2013.06.20 - Midsummer's Night - One Night In Asgard, Part 1

This an interlude scene which is part of Thor and Sif's multi-day wedding event. It is the night after the bride and groom transport their guests to Asgard. It occurs between the lines of an early pose in 2013.06.21 - Midsummer's Night - The Wedding, Part 1.

2013.06.21 - Midsummer's Night - One Night In Asgard, Part 2 immediately follows this scene.

All of Asgard has been put into 'party' mode. It's an amazing sight, really... to see so much reveling, and it's only going to get more.. partiering? (Not a word, certainly, but.. descriptive?)

Settled into various chambers around the Great Hall of Odin, even there, there is a great deal of merriment. There is a tavern of sorts, where the fire in the fireplace burns, where the wenches happily serve up boar, beef and all matter of fowl. It is here that the Warriors Three can kick back, relax, and not have to worry overmuch about whether or not they'll be called.

As a result, there is one of the Three that is settled back, his mead in hand, and he's walking towards a table that may be somewhat free.. free being a relative term!

Asgard is an impressive place. Many who are visiting for the first time are doing their level best to appear cool and calm and reserved about their awe and wonder.

Hilda isn't even trying. She's been roaming around with her eyes wide, and jaw dropped and uncharacteristically quietly gaping at everything basically from the moment they arrived. Her 'OMGOMGOMG' meter has, finally, hit saturation point, and she's at some sort of tourist gawk as she roams, a little lost perhaps, having had a goblet of what is probably mead pressed into her hand.

Having settled in her room for the most part -- including leaving the large backpack she was loaned by the Kaplans to carry some supplies (and her sword) in -- Torunn has changed her clothes to a plain white T-shirt with a pale blue muscle shirt over that with "Party Girl!" written on it in vibrant purple puffy letters in the middle of a pink and pastel yellow explosion worn with a pair of black yoga pants and sandals that tie up her shins. She wanders her way out of the guest hall into the Great Hall with a mixture of awe and... is that disappointment... on her features.

Fandral is nothing if not a gentleman, and in his wanderings, the slap on a shoulder, the smile and arm grasping of welcome.. before he catches sight of some of the wide-eyed. He stands, turned, his blue eyes searching before he turns about fully to cross the distance between himself and the grey-haired matron. It must be she that he's heard so much about, and the distance is crossed quickly.

With something of a flourished bow, his fist pressed to his chest first, a broad smile is easily and comfortably in place. "I bid thee welcome, lady.. and I would be honoured if thou wouldst accept my company until thou dost find thy breath?" Fandral rises from his greeting, blue eyes flickering towards the young woman.. and there.. upon her face.. is that disappointment?

"Does this setting not please thee?" is called out.

"Oh my goodness." Hilda gives her head a little shake as Fandral comes over and bows, her gaping replace with an easy and warm smile and a little chuckle. "I'm not sure I might find my breath for a month of Sundays, but I'd be glad to come and join you." She looks up, giving a considering look over Fandral's considerable size and mmmms softly. "I don't think I know your name yet, or has the impressiveness addled my thoughts more than I thought?" She glances over to Torunn and gives the girl a nod before looking back to Fandral.

Torunn nods politely in return to Hilda and then puts a gracious smile on her face before addressing Fandral. "Asgard is lovely, sir. Verily, er... actually, it's everything I've... no... um..." and there comes the discontent again as she tries vainly to comply with the request that was given her before the trip up from Midgard despite its conflict with lifelong dreams. "I'm sorry, I guess I should just go back to my room and have something brought to me."

Before Fandral offers his arm, which it looks as if he will, he turns back to Hilda, and with a hand in the air in silent request for her own hand. He bows once again, "Fandral, my lady. Swordsman of the Warriors Three, Defender of Asgard and Brother in Arms to my Prince, Thor. Long days have I spent recently in Midgard, and there is one that I keep hearing named, and I wonder if thou art she?"

Now Torunn.. she gains a quizzical look from the Warrior, brows raised and he straightens briefly. "If it is 'everything', thou shouldst remain and enjoy. There is more than enough here to gain thy favour and bring a smile to thy face."

Hilda clucks her tongue at the girl with a soft tsk tsk. "It's lovely, and you won't appreciate it at all sitting in your room. Now come and sit and be social and quit fussing over whatever it is you're trying to be fussy about. There's no call for being sulky." She tucks her arm with an old fashioned ease and elegance into Fandral's offered one, once it is in fact offered. "I would bet that you have a great many who you hear about from Thor, and others, if you are a Defender of Asgard, and I should hope that you haven't heard a peep about me in /that/ context. If Thor's been talking about where he gets his mochas, that would be me. Mrs Hilda Norling, although I've been called Mom, Momse, and Coffee Mom by more than a few of your breathren."

Torunn sighs in resignation like only a petulant teen seems to be able to but then nods. "You're both right. I'm in Asgard. I've read so much and heard so much about it." She smiles. "I should focus on that and not... well, not the negative. Thor and Sif are going to be getting married tomorrow, that's the important part, right?"

"I only hear of those others in passing, my lady," and now, with the introductions done, Fandral offers his free arm, ready to escort and serve as guardian, though he's got something of a lopsided smile. "It is of thy .. mochas that I hear so much about. And thine establishment."

Torunn is given an encouraging smile, those blue eyes lingering on the girl for a moment longer before he nods once. "After centuries, aye, they are. And the Allfather will bear a smile on his face for centuries to come when he thinks back to the days here with us." You paged Fandral with 'FYI, Torunn can mean "Thor's Love" or "Thunder", depending on which website you look at. Definately a Norse name. So... there'll be a hint when it finally gets said. :)'  Hilda says, "And I get captured by very chatty co-workers, so it all works out. ;)"

"Well, if you ever find yourself in Soho, I'll make you a mocha, Mr. Fandral." Hilda pats the warror's arm gently, a comforting sort of gesture as they head towards a table to settle at. "As much as it sounds like a silly hallmark card, child, there's a lot to be said on focusing on the positive. Unless you are actively doing something to change the negative, just feeding it by sulking will only give it more power and make it worse. You are here, and there will be a wedding, and you've some excellent company in Mr Fandral and myself."

"Isn't SoHo where Thor's home on Midgard is?" As Torunn asks the question there is no hesitation over the use of the Asgardian term, no auto correct from a reflexive Earth. It's quite obvious that she's accustomed to using the native Asgardian term for that world over the name its natives would prefer to use. And she doesn't even notice the slip.

"I understand that this 'mocha' is as intoxicating as mead, my lady Hilda," Fandral observes, his tones light and jesting. "I have been resistant, but I may have to partake to see what it is draws my brother to it. And causes Sif to purchase such things for the kitchens.." He shakes his head slowly, and a chuckle sounds, "It turns his head, no doubt."

Hilda's encouraging words to Torunn gains a nod from the Swordsman once again, and with his tankard still in hand (the other), he gestures towards tables even as he leads to one of them that is pretty much free. Or will be the moment Fandral joins it! "SoHo? I know not. I do know that Firehooves knows the way back, and it has a distinctive exterior. Beyond that?"

"In an entirely different way." Hilda declares, holding up her mead goblet, no matter that it's half ignored. "Mocha is more coffee and chocolate flavoured, and it is rather delicious. We've others too, for those not fond of chocolate. And I might tempt you all the more with a fresh strudel." She nods to Torunn, oddly comfortable with the term. "Yes, we're in the same neighbourhood. Thor and Sif's visits are excellent for business, I have to say."

Torunn nods and proclaims "Then I shall have to visit it myself," and then asks, "Do my friends Billy and Eddie go there often?"

"Strudel?" Fandral pulls the seat out for Hilda and waits for her to sit, standing beside the chair as sentry. "What is this? Thou must tell me of thy delicacies. Chocolate is something that I do enjoy, though.. obviously not as much as Thor."

Though now, Fandral's head cants and he pulls a chair out for Torunn, ready for her to take her ease as well. "Come, sit.. join us." Though, he does stop at 'lady', as.. well.. the clothing? "Thou art friends with them? Tell me then how you are called, that I might tell them of my acquaintance."

"Eddie is in fairly often, he works for me." Hilda replies with a smile. "A little charmer, he is. Billy.. Billy. I should expect so, but I'm not putting name to face right now." She ahhs to Fandral as she tucks her skirt in behind her, taking a seat. "Strudel is a little pocket of delicious. It's Austrian, but I love them enough to make them anyhow. A thin flakey dough is wrapped around a sweet filling, often apple, sometimes other fruit, delicious with a creamy cheese and fruit." Her hands mime out the spreading and folding of the dough around imaginary filling. "And then it's baked, and sprinkled with powdered sugar, and it's a lovely treat."

Torunn takes the offered seat as well. She lets Hilda explain strudel and grins as she says "It is very good, and since I've only ever had Tony's I'm sure Hilda's is even better, sir." Then she pauses a moment and returns to Fandral's question. "My name is Torunn. The outfit is new, it was recommended as casual wear. I'm finding it comfortable... especially the 'yoga' pants."

Fandral listens to the description of the pastry, and it's obviously that he is becoming more intrigued. "Was that what that was at Thor's gathering? That was.." and he sighs, the smile growing. "I felt like Volstaag at the dessert table. I could not stop.." Except, of course, when his mug was drained.

Torunn's response regarding her name gains the girl another lingering look before he nods, inclining his head, the smile still easy on his face. His brows rise, however, as the outfit is the 'recommended', and he exhales, curiousity playing in his features, "Really? No skirts for the occasion? Who recommended such clothing?"

"All the young girls are wearing those silly stretchy pants these days, at least in New York City. It's a sight better than the days of those teeny tiny shorts." Hilda tsk tsks. "My granddaughters all are eternally in those yoga pants, my daughters half the time too." She flicks an absent hand at her own skirt, the older woman clearly with her own ideas on appropriate attire. "It's lovely to meet you, Torunn. Where are you from? Asgard is new to you, and if yoga pants are a mystery, clearly Midgard is too." She smiles to Fandral. "Now you'll just have to come visit me, and I'll feed you strudel."

"Billy's mom... Mrs. Kaplan... took me shopping. We met a member of the Legion of Super-Heroes... Jazmin, yeah, her name was Jazmin, she recommended the outfit for me. And no skirts... Tony recommended I avoid them when I was young and started flying." Torunn apparently feels comfortable simply stating that as a fact -- this is Asgard after all -- while answering Frandal's question. Then there's Hilda's question, touches on the subject her parents asked her to keep quiet about -- sure there were supposed to be people she could talk to it about but they hadn't been identified to her as of yet. "My family... Tony and my three brothers... we lived in an isolated retreat. I only recently came to New York, Mrs. Norling."

As Hilda explains, Fandral shakes his head slowly and exhales in a sigh, finally lowers himself into a chair now that the ladies are seated and comfortable. As he does so, a wench sways by, and without question, sets down some fowl in the middle of the table, places a hand on the Warrior's shoulder and leans to whisper before she's gone. Following her departure with a smile, it takes him a moment to bring his thoughts back around in order to continue in polite conversation.

Ahem.

The questioning by Hilda, then, gains Fandral's attention, and he smiles at the lady's attentiveness in approval. Though now, the answer is more than confusing to the Swordsman, and he shakes his head slowly once again. The names mean nothing to him, and after a few lingering moments offers, "And thou hast found thyself in good company then."

The touch, and the whisper and the moment or three that Fandral requires to drag his attention back to the here and now is noted by Hilda, and there's a Look from one adult to the other before she's turning back to the teen's explanation. "I should think not! Unless you're wearing tights, or shorts under your skirt, the length of skirts these days are barely appropriate for climbing a flight of stairs, let alone flying around New York City in. It's different when the girls are a little older, but not at your age, child." She mmms and nods. "It must be rather isolated if you're struggling with clothes shopping. New York's a good place, Olaf and I are glad we settled there."

"We got our clothing from machines actually and... well, it was just us so we didn't have shirts like this..." Torunn indicates the Girl Power shirt she is wearing. "... Our clothing was much more functional than decorative." And of course there is the fact that the retreat was in the Arctic and they were hiding from a homicidal robot that had killed off their parents and most of humanity... but that seems too close to saying 'I am the child of Thor and Sif from the future' so Torunn doesn't bring those facts up.

Fandral has the decency to look.. a little bit sheepish, though there is a decided gleam in his eye. Sheepish. Not apologetic.

Reaching for a piece of meat, he has to put his mug down.. but before doing that, it is drained in several swallows. Then, the meat is pulled, and settled before him. "But, skirts here in the Hall? No one, presumably, will have the need to do aught but relax." Even if the Swordsman does wear his sword still. It's part of him.

There is that 'flying' thing, and his brows rise in askance, "Thou dost fly as well? I think another does.." Billy? "If it is the fashion," he murmurs toward Hilda, though he shrugs slightly. "I think skirts suit ladies."

If anything, that faintly sheepish look makes Hilda smile, leaning over to pat Fandral on the knee. "You aren't married, hmm?" She settles back and squints a little at Torunn. "That sounds perfectly dreadful, and just like a Man and three brothers would decide was suitable for a girl's wardrobe, isolated or not." She tsk tsks softly. "Skirts have their place, even I don't wear one every day, sometimes it's just not practical, but I'm fond of them myself. My daughters mix it up a bit more than I do, but they're younger women, and it's my job as Grandmother to spoil my grandchildren, and there's nothing sweeter than a tiny wee one in a pretty dress."

Torunn frowns when her childhood is referred to as 'dreadful' but she doesn't call Hilda on it. In response to the continued discussion of dresses and skirts she says "I actually never wore a skirt. I guess you'd say I was a tomboy." She picks up a fork and takes a bite of the Asgardian fowl. "Mmmm" she comments though her closed mouth but she doesn't say more until after finishing the bite -- her upbringing didn't leave her wild after all! "You know about Billy's powers, Mr. Fandral?" Yes, she's picked up calling him that from Hilda. "No, I fly because... well, its what I can do." She says this with a smile because flying feels great!

Fandral shakes his head, and his voice lowers softly, a shadow passing across his face as he offers, "Not anymore, nay." It clears, gone as quickly as it'd come, and he offers Hilda a broader smile; brave face.

"There is nothing wrong with a skirt. It is quite comely." And there, the Swordsman ends that one. Something of a chauvinist, he is.

"Aye, I do.. and the lad, Eddie's. I would be a poor Sword to the Prince if I was unaware of the abilities of those who surround him so closely."

A little sympathetic noise in the back of Hilda's throat at Fandral's words and she reaches over to pat the cheek of that brave face. "I'm sorry, sweetie. I'd be lost without my Olaf. Almost thirty eight years, nothing to you lot, but a lot to someone like me." She mms softly, settling back in her seat. "Thirty nine years ago, I might have given that girl a run for her money." She notes to Fandral, a little teasing in her tone and then a chuckle. "I don't know about that flying stuff. I think I prefer to have a nice place around me."

"If you want to be aware of those who associate with Thor then I should show you Skerasverð at some point," Torunn says to Fandral, not so concerned about the relationship talk. "Maybe we could spar sometime. I could probably pick up a pointer or two from you the way I hope to from m-... um, from Sif." There's a quick slip there. She tries to cover it up with a quick correction and by going quite but she fails to do so well as she flushes with both embarrassment and anger at herself.

"We made near fifty years," Fandral murmurs. Time.. is something the Warrior is quite aware of when it comes to Midgard. He offers a smile, and dips his head in the cheek pat and chuckles. "Amma.." Grandmother in the Old Tongue. "And I can assure you that he feels the same."

Now.. this needs to lighten, and Fandral looks to Torunn, and his brows rise once again. "Art thou associating with my Brother then?" There's.. something in those tones; curiosity, and a hint of.. something else. "I should like to see thy sword, and would gladly spar with thee." Odin knows that Fandral needs to begin honing Thor's sword technique once AGAIN. "Sif, I think, her thoughts will be far from sparring for some time."

Hilda enjoys a bit more of her mead, happily keeping quiet to be able to gawk around a bit as conversation turns to sparring and swords and fights. "Some time, indeed. Although I don't expect it'll take her all that long to get back to it afterwards. Nice thing about such a tight knight community, the babe won't lack for attentive family to snuggle it and give Mom a little bit of a break."

Torunn simply nods to Fandral's comments and listens to the conversation as she eats some more of the fowl. She then asks, "Is there some juice or water that I could drink?" of Fandral since -- as the 'brother' of the groom -- he's the closest thing to a host in the immediate vicinity.

The meat is attended, and he takes a bite here and there, easily falling silent for the few swallows. At the request for something without any real kick to it, the Warrior gains his feet. "I'll find Gurde.. and she'll find something, I'm sure." Hmmmm.. something. Placing a hand upon Hilda's shoulder, he leans in, "Well met, my lady, and I will see thee soon enough again. Do not allow any to bother thee, and if they do, tell them thou art under my watch." And watch how quickly they fall back. "I have something of a reputation here." With that, he does depart to see to the water and/or juice.

The quiet words from Fandral bring a smile and a nod from Hilda. "I'm sure I'll be well taken care of, thank you sweetie." She looks over to the girl and there's a nod of her head. "A bit of watered down wine is hardly going to be a ruin of you, and I expect it's more typical of here than attempting to find juice. Water, might be easier. There might be tea, and I will hope there's coffee for the morning, or I will happily be in another castle from Thor."

"Tony didn't let us have any alcohol... Didn't have any himself either... He told us that we shouldn't drink. Ever really, but especially when we were young." Torunn is, of course, relaying the advice of a recovering alcoholic who was trying to keep his charges from falling into the same trap he had when he was younger. "I'll be happy with water. Its better for me anyway." And there goes the dedicated warrior looking after her body.

"Mmmm. Well that's your and your .. guardian, I shall guess.. that your and his choice. Things just might work a little differently here, is all I'm saying." Hilda nods and then laughs warmly. "That's what my eldest daughter keeps telling me. Drink water, it's better for you. Eat this, don't eat that." She lifts her hands and waves all of that advice away. "Her and her husband, live on funny green smoothies and sunshine, they think they're plants or something."

"I'm not with Tony anymore.." Torunn starts to comment on her status and trails off slowly. A furrow touches her brow, a thoughtful and contemplative silence following up her words. A realization slowly spreads across her face, nerves and concern mixed liberally with the attempt to pretend that nothing is wrong.

"Oh sweetie." Hilda tuts softly, reaching over to offer the girl a warm hug. "Whatever it is, it's alright. You'll find your feet, enjoy Asgard first, you're safe here. Hmm? And you've a handsome big Warrior finding you juice." She gives the girl a kiss on the forehead and a smile.