FIC: The Worst Laid Plans; Dead Serious Architecture Bonus [MCU, Odin x Frigga]
The Worst Laid Plans; Dead Serious I'm-Not-Even-Kidding Design Bonus
“I shall have the servants unearth the gowns I used to wear when the boys were too young to act as regent during Odinsleeps,” Frigga said over dinner, gauging Odin’s reaction. “I tire of this fluttery, asymmetric and overly patterned fashion, anyway. I don’t think I shall ever try it again. I miss being sleek and elegant and glam.”
“That’s what you said fifty years ago, dearest,” Odin said mildly.
Frigga laughed to herself. “And you couldn’t have reminded me of that last year?”
“I shall endeavour to be more vigilant next time.” Odin nodded and happily plopped a grape into his mouth. “You always looked stunningly regal in your regent robes, dearest.”
“I’m glad you approve. By the way, I feel now is a good time to mention I abhor what you did to the palace decor last year, and I’m changing it back to the way it was,” Frigga said.
Odin’s mouth fell open and the grape almost rolled right back out. He began to splutter indignant protests, but Frigga cut him off.
“We both know you only wanted everything so dark and primitive because murdering our youngest had depressed your spirits. Well, he’s no longer dead, nor out to cause an early Ragnarok or looking like he is, thank the Nine, so the lot of us won’t be suffering your gloom any longer.”
“You can’t just make decisions of such magnitude without -”
Frigga jerked a thumb over her shoulder at Gungnir, standing behind and to the side of her chair. “I can, and I am. For goodness sake, Odin, this realm is a disc floating through space, encapsulated by an artificial ecosystem and housing a race that lives to be five thousand with the greatest of ease and forges weapons in the hearts of stars. Our ancestors built the very rock and crystal below our feet with magic and technology surpassing any that has been known in this universe in living memory. I will not stand Asgard to look like we tore it out of the territory of a Medieval mortal lord by the roots, applied some gold leaf to the outer walls, and called it a day, never to make a single change to the original structures for fifteen thousand years.”
Odin shut his mouth with an audible click. “Yes, dearest.”
“Good.”
Odin finally chewed and swallowed his grape. “I think...” he started after a while.
Frigga looked up from her broiled gryphon, one eyebrow and both corners of her mouth quirked up.
Odin’s eye narrowed. “It’s a good thing you really are always right, or this always being right habit of yours would be insufferable.”
“I love you too, dearest.”
“I’m keeping the throne room, though.”
“You can keep the throne room, dearest. You can keep all seventeen of them.”
The Worst Laid Plans
Odin
Frigga
Tongue-In-Cheek Fandral Bonus
Things That Were Put On A Bus Bonus
Dead Serious I'm-Not-Even-Kidding Design Bonus
Weird Worldbuilding Bonus
Epilogue: Vitally Important Jane Foster Bonus
“Did you think I would not know your voice from any throat? My own boy?” // “I had meant only to deceive the elves while I got the mortal and myself to safety, but... well, opportunity arose, so I improvised.” // TDW fix-it fic, simple as that. Retconning Odin's A+ Parenting and Frigga's fate because I don't want to live with a headcanon wherein those things exist, as well as a few other minor quibbles because I saw an opportunity to have fun while doing it.