The All-Father's chamber was quiet.
Not the soft, living quiet of a nursery or a library, but a deep, iron-weighted silence. The kind that pressed into your bones. A hush that felt like the pause before a storm.
Frigga stood by the tall window, moonlight catching the silver in her hair. Odin sat on his great seat, one hand resting against Gungnir, his gaze distant.
An advisor—grey-bearded, cautious-eyed—stood just inside the door, shifting as if the shadows themselves might overhear.
"It happened in the womb," Odin finally said, voice low and edged with something between awe and weariness. "He awakened his divinity before birth."
The advisor swallowed. "My king, shall we announce this? Prepare the people? Surely it would inspire—"
Odin's gaze snapped over. The advisor fell silent at once.
"No," Odin said. The word dropped like a boulder into a pond. "Not a whisper. Not until I decide otherwise."
He leaned back, one eye closing as if in pain or deep calculation.
"If our enemies—those lurking in the realms beyond—caught wind that a new divine heir stands in Asgard… even as a child… they would not wait to strike. They would crawl from their holes, blades in hand, poisons at the ready."
Frigga exhaled, her shoulders lowering a fraction. Relief softened her posture. "Until when?"
"Until I said so."
The advisor shifted again, bowing his head low. "Then… the maids, the guards—"
"Silenced," Odin ordered. "If even a hint of rumour leaves these halls, the Bifröst shall be their next journey."
The advisor paled, bowing deeper.
A heavy silence fell again. The moonlight cut the room like a blade.
At last, Odin spoke, more to himself than anyone else. "A child with a domain not of war… not of conquest or thunder. A shame."
He tilted his head slightly, the ghost of a sigh slipping past his lips.
"I had hoped… perhaps the boy would awaken a force to strengthen Asgard's armies. Another spearhead, another hammer."
His gaze drifted out the window as if he could see across all the Nine Realms at once.
"But he chose… wisdom. The observer's path."
Frigga stepped forward then, her hand gently resting on Odin's shoulder. Her voice was soft, but it cut through the gloom like spring rain.
"Wisdom may not swing a sword, but it guides the hand that holds it."
Odin's single eye closed again, and for a moment, the mask of the All-Father slipped—revealing a father underneath.
"He will not threaten my throne," Odin murmured finally. "His domain is not one of power, but of insight. A king does not fear the scholar… only the usurper."
Frigga's hand squeezed his shoulder once, then fell away. Her eyes lingered on the moon outside, and something unreadable passed across her face.
The advisor, still trembling, dared not lift his head.
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A/N: My exam has already finished. Sorry for the late chapter. I've written a long one, but got sudden inspiration, so I need to rewrite it. Don't worry, it won't be long.