Chapter 62 - Prunes and Fitted Sheets

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"You should not have tried to heal this on your own, my child," Frigga says patiently, yet firmly. 


"I know," you say bashfully as your throbbing hand now rests in her lap.


Her fingers glow in their golden seidr as she passes them lightly over your terribly swollen and bruised wrist. The discoloration now travels up your palm. For a full day you had attempted to hide your injury from the others. You hadn't wanted them to know what Loki had done. But you found it much more difficult to heal yourself with one hand, and you hadn't made much progress. Finally, the pain was too much, and you sought out Frigga's help.


You wince as she passes her fingertips across the bruised area once more, and Frigga's eyes leap to yours.


"I'm nearly finished," she says softly. 


You look away, and focus on the swirling patterns in the rug on the floor of Frigga's chambers.


"My husband has received word from the Kings," Frigga says, clearly trying to make idle conversation to distract you from the pain.


"And?" you ask.


"They have agreed to hold the Tablet in the Vanaheim Vault. There is the matter of settling on final terms, but Norns willing the dreaded thing will be protected by the Aesir, Vanir, and Ljósálfar soon enough," she coos gently, working now on the torn tendons that run up the side of your arm.


"As long as it's safe," you say quietly.


Frigga smiles and withdraws her hands. You hold up your wrist and admire it's flawlessness. No more bruises. No more pain.


"Thank you, Omi," you whisper, leaning in to give her a hug. It's Anthony's name for Frigga, but you had found yourself sinking into the comfort and familiarity of using his term. And Frigga had given you her blessing to do so. 


"You're welcome, my child," she responds, holding you tightly for a moment.


You leave Frigga's chambers to make your way to the kitchens, bumping into a familiar small girl on the way.


"Y/n!" chirps Thyra, giving you a small curtsy.


"Hi Thyra," you laugh. "Are you going to get Loki's dinner tray?"


She nods. "Prince Loki told me this afternoon that he wanted an apple with dinner tonight. Something about wasting one he'd been given before. But I had to go to the market to get one because chef used them all in the pies yesterday!" she giggles, holding out an apple to you.


"You went all the way to the markets just for this, Thyra?" you say stunned. "You don't need to do that, honey. Next time you let me know and I'll tell Loki he can eat what we have here in the palace."


"It's no trouble Your Highness. I like the market. Besides," she grins, looking at her toes. "I did something bad for lunch. So I owed it to him."

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