Unknownfate
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Chapter 142
🕑 Added 2025-05-29 14:37:08 +0000 UTCWhile the Warriors Three and Sif sought to warn the Queen and bring Thor back, the Queen herself had already begun moving in her own way, quietly but decisively, as only a mother and a queen could.
Frigga might normally stay in her husband’s shadow, but she was by no means stupid; no, she was a wise queen who helped her foolish husband as best she could. Though it wasn’t easy, men were always troublesome.
And this family seemed to have the most troublesome men she had ever met.
Really, she didn’t often see Odin’s so-called wisdom.
No, whenever he acted with wisdom, it was Frigga’s wisdom, though she wasn’t about to tell people that, poor Odin, he needed at least to think himself clever at times.
Currently, she was sitting next to Odin’s enchanted bed, the soft glow of the Odin Force covering his body as she gazed down at his sleeping form. The room had only hours earlier been a mess, with fragments of the dead Jötunn and their cold blue blood on walls and floors.
Even now, she couldn’t help but sigh at the mess this whole thing was. She knew well enough that Loki was behind it, and she knew what he was doing. It wasn’t because he hated Odin, or wanted to harm him, no, he did all that, for Odin.
Loki was the least favorite child, or at least compared to Hela, whom Odin had sealed away before she married him.
Loki was also sensitive, and she had done everything in her power to make him feel loved, yet all boys desire their father’s love, and Loki was no different.
Loki’s talent and skills were in magic and his mind; he liked to stay in the back, to use tricks to solve problems, and often to start them. Thor was the opposite; he liked to be at the forefront of things, loud and bright. And Odin preferred that strength.
She knew Odin cared greatly for Loki; if not, he wouldn’t have gotten away with all the trouble he had caused over the years.
Yet to Loki, it didn’t seem like that; he never truly felt his father’s love. And she did blame Odin for being so bad at showing affection. Even their marriage needed her to put in the work.
And now, Loki was off to war against Jotunheim, all to prove to Odin that he didn’t belong there, that he belonged in Asgard. She worried that he might do something even more extreme if allowed.
So she had to do something before he made more mistakes. She couldn’t help but cast an annoyed glare down towards Odin, blaming him for leaving her with this mess. She wasn’t a fool; she knew he wasn’t in his true Odin sleep.
Sure, he was resting and stabilizing, but not as efficiently as the true Odin sleep. He could wake up whenever he wanted, and he was aware of everything happening in all of Asgard. She had no doubt that Heimdall was even keeping him updated about what happened on Thor’s side.
Yet, all the problems due to his sleep… she had to deal with.
Sometimes, she wished things were like when she first married him, before she fell in love; in that case, she might force him to deal with these problems on his own. Yet love changed people, and she couldn’t ignore this because she did love him.
“You will make this up to me later,” Frigga whispered into Odin’s ear as she leaned down, smoothing a lock of hair from his brow. She straightened just as the golden doors creaked open and the guards stepped aside.
Loki walked in.
He strode like a king in his palace, his head held high and his back as straight as the spear he desperately clung to. Since taking the throne, he has barely let Gungnir out of his hand.
“Mother, are you feeling better?” he asked, with real concern in his voice. He had never wanted her to feel bad, but the danger he had put Odin into had caused her to be sick with worry.
Frigga gave him a smile, and then, without a word, she walked up and hugged him slightly. “I am better, thank you, Loki, if not for you… I don’t know what would have happened.”
Loki stiffened in response; he wasn’t expecting a hug. Yet, his mother always managed to surprise him. And it did feel some tension leave him, a weight disappear off his shoulders.
Forgiveness, that was what he felt.
He used his free hand to return the hug. For a moment, he felt like a child again, without the burdens that now weighed him down. Like nothing mattered, and everything would be all right.
But moments like that never lasted.
Loki gently stepped back, the familiar mask already sliding back into place. “You shouldn’t worry yourself, Mother. I have everything under control.”
Frigga’s hand lingered briefly on his shoulder, her touch grounding. “I know you believe that. But kingship isn’t easy; I worry that you will get too busy managing the kingdom while Odin sleeps.”
Loki tilted his head slightly, regarding her with that familiar mixture of fondness and suspicion. “Are you suggesting I’m overreaching?” he asked lightly, though there was an edge beneath the polish. “The Jötunn invaded, threatened father, such a thing can’t be forgiven, we must show strength, we must retaliate, I thought you of all would understand that.”
Frigga didn’t flinch, nor take the bait. She simply studied him, her gaze clear and calm, as if she were reading a book she had long since memorized. “I understand the desire for justice,” she said evenly. “But justice without wisdom is nothing more than vengeance. And vengeance, Loki, is rarely the mark of a wise king.”
He frowned, just slightly. “So we do nothing? Allow the attack on Odin to go unanswered?”
“You already answered it,” Frigga replied. “You killed Laufey. You ended their king in our halls. That was a message heard across all the realms. Do you truly believe more death will say anything louder?”
Loki’s fingers tightened around Gungnir. “They’ll think we’re weak if we don’t act.”
“No,” she said gently. “They’ll think you’re afraid—afraid they’ll stop fearing you unless you remind them. And fear is a brittle thing, Loki. It cracks the first time you lose control.”
He looked at her then, for longer than a breath. He wanted to argue, to twist her words into something he could discard, but he couldn’t. Not with her.
“I’ve already called for mobilization,” he said, quieter now, more measured. “I can’t simply tell them all to go home.”
“You don’t have to,” Frigga said. “Your father didn’t punish Thor because he was afraid of war, only a meaningless war, or the costs of that… I have a suggestion if you will listen, one I’m sure you will find pleasing.”
The interested look on Loki’s face told her everything she wanted to know, he had already agreed with her, he just didn’t know it yet.
He was eager to prove himself, eager to rid himself of any ties he might imagine he had with Jotunheim, but he wasn’t like Thor; his nature was to dislike war, to disdain fighting. He wanted to enjoy life, and in particular his kingship.
And she just so happened to know how to give him just that, while delaying the war until a time where it could be called off without problem and without damage to his newly established prestige.
With a cunning smile on her lips, she guided Loki over to the chairs. “Indeed, listen to your mother’s wisdom for a bit, your father knew to do that, and as Lord Regent, you should too.~”
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Camelot and the entire world were still struggling with the revelations that came out during the UN meeting and the sit-down interview with Arthuria Pendragon.
Whatever it was, Magneto’s actions of taking the world leaders hostage and demanding rights for mutants, or Doom, who pulled his nation away from the international stage, and mirrored Albion in reneging on old debts by saying they belonged to the old regime.
To the shocking reveal that King Arthur is a stunning woman. Those things alone would be more than enough to feed the media for months.
However, it didn’t stop there.
No sooner had word spread about those events than Arthuria sat down with the well-known Jonathan Dimbleby for an in-depth, no-limits interview. This was something countless people had wanted for years; each chance to ask this mysterious and powerful king questions was precious and desired.
More so now that everyone knew she was a woman, people wanted to know more, and Jonathan Dimbleby was the man to get them those answers.
And true to form, the interview did not disappoint.
Broadcast simultaneously across all Albion networks and streamed live to every major news outlet across the world, it was watched by hundreds of millions. In Camelot, cafés had wheeled out old televisions onto cobbled streets, and crowds had gathered like it was a football final.
In London, people stood outside shop windows, shoulders pressed together, watching through glass in stunned silence. Even in Washington, Tokyo, and Cairo, people watched.
Some had expected a display of power, a staged presentation to quiet critics and silence questions. Instead, what they got was something infinitely more dangerous.
Honesty.
Jonathan Dimbleby had a reputation for being no-nonsense when talking with politicians, and while some people thought he went too easy on Arthuria, he still asked the hard questions, and he got people the answers they so desperately desired.
While world leaders still wanted more, different questions and different answers, for most people, this was just what they wanted to hear.
A retelling of ancient history, the truth forgotten by time. Ancient secrets and tales untold.
However, more than that, they got answers to what someone like her was doing today. They already knew she didn’t like the modern system, and many people wished to know more about what she would want instead.
Because, was there anything better?
People saw what she had done in Albion, how she made people's lives better, how they grew richer, many not on the international stage, but they never had to worry about their bills, their rent, or food.
And they asked themselves: “Why can’t we have that?”
Their governments kept telling them that it was impossible, that it wasn’t sustainable. And that Arthuria and Albion were fools living in a dream, and once they woke up, they would face a horrible reality.
Even inside Albion, people heard this from foreign media, and they too wanted to know if it was true, what made Arthuria so sure she could deliver what others said was impossible?
Dimbleby had been direct in his questions, and Arthuria, too, had been direct in her answers.
She explained things that people already knew, yet never thought about. She simply stated that there was more than enough food for everyone, but greed kept it out of the hands of those who starved.
She simply said that as the king, she had to work to ensure every need was met. High rent? Lower it, no questions asked. Not enough homes? Build more, not questions asked.
She solved problems, not debated them, she didn’t pause, she moved forward, and made a path, a future for a kingdom, because that is what a king does, a leader.
Be bold, be not afraid, and always think about the kingdom, that was what her answers boiled down to. And not even Dimbleby could find any questions she couldn’t answer, because well, she sometimes just mentioned magic, which is hard to argue against.
After all, how does one question someone about lacking resources when they can build an entire city out of thin air? Yeah, magic seemed to be the answer, and after having her explain it, everyone now wanted to learn it.
Well, most people, a few suddenly found themselves very busy, far too busy to think about magic, and some of those people happened to be the people of Wakanda.
