Frigga drops her arm and lets go of Loki while giving Clint a serene yet apologetic smile, a gentle incline of her head. "Forgive me. I did not mean to cause any discomfort by my greeting. I'm afraid Loki has taken us all by surprise with the turn of events today." She gives her son a pointed look.
Loki has, for his part, moved back to stand at Clint's side but hasn't reached for the other boy's hand again just yet. Now feels like possibly the wrong time to make that gesture of declaration.
"It is no imposition; we will eat in the herb garden." She looks at one of the ladies-in-waiting, who nods in acquiescence, and the women split off -- one half of them toward the kitchen, the other half following behind Frigga as she leads Loki and Clint through the gardens toward the one she has in mind for this particular conversation.
Loki gives Clint a smile. He is fairly certain that his mother won't allow for Clint to be sent away, but that she also wants to understand why he's done... this in particular. He hadn't even wanted to go to Midgard, originally, and for him to come home early with a mortal in tow is doing a lot, even for the God of Mischief.
The herb garden is small, as Asgardian palace gardens go, with fragrant pockets of various blooms along a winding path with a pond in the very center. Still and yet, it's quite bigger than the parking lot the fair was being held in. There are benches at the pond and Frigga gestures for them to sit, each one in their own small bench in a sort of semi-circle around a larger table set with various foodstuffs; none of which, Clint might notice, that's processed. This is all food that's been cooked by hand or magic but none by a factory.
Loki sits on the center bench of the three, after his mother chooses the one closest to the pond's edge, because he'd rather be close to both of them and forcing Clint to be in the middle seems a little unfair. In the moment, anyway.
He expects to be questioned. What was he thinking, how does he imagine this will go? Instead, Frigga startles him by addressing her first question to Clint: "If my son hadn't convinced you to accompany him back home, tell me: what would the next month or so have looked like, for you? Please," she holds up a hand, "eat some, first, but do not lie to me. Either--" and this is with a pointed look at Loki, "of you."
no subject
Loki has, for his part, moved back to stand at Clint's side but hasn't reached for the other boy's hand again just yet. Now feels like possibly the wrong time to make that gesture of declaration.
"It is no imposition; we will eat in the herb garden." She looks at one of the ladies-in-waiting, who nods in acquiescence, and the women split off -- one half of them toward the kitchen, the other half following behind Frigga as she leads Loki and Clint through the gardens toward the one she has in mind for this particular conversation.
Loki gives Clint a smile. He is fairly certain that his mother won't allow for Clint to be sent away, but that she also wants to understand why he's done... this in particular. He hadn't even wanted to go to Midgard, originally, and for him to come home early with a mortal in tow is doing a lot, even for the God of Mischief.
The herb garden is small, as Asgardian palace gardens go, with fragrant pockets of various blooms along a winding path with a pond in the very center. Still and yet, it's quite bigger than the parking lot the fair was being held in. There are benches at the pond and Frigga gestures for them to sit, each one in their own small bench in a sort of semi-circle around a larger table set with various foodstuffs; none of which, Clint might notice, that's processed. This is all food that's been cooked by hand or magic but none by a factory.
Loki sits on the center bench of the three, after his mother chooses the one closest to the pond's edge, because he'd rather be close to both of them and forcing Clint to be in the middle seems a little unfair. In the moment, anyway.
He expects to be questioned. What was he thinking, how does he imagine this will go? Instead, Frigga startles him by addressing her first question to Clint: "If my son hadn't convinced you to accompany him back home, tell me: what would the next month or so have looked like, for you? Please," she holds up a hand, "eat some, first, but do not lie to me. Either--" and this is with a pointed look at Loki, "of you."