"It has been more than three thousand years since the death of Sea Lord Njord and the loss of the royal bloodline in Vanaheim."
Skirnir paced in the throne room, his hands clasped behind his back. "Three thousand years of decline, Your Highness. We cannot repeat the same mistakes! We must be fully prepared in advance."
Aegir sat slouched on his throne, one leg draped over the armrest. He'd been listening to Skirnir's lecture for twenty minutes, and he could see where this was going.
"So your masterplan is to make me marry?" Aegir's eyelid twitched.
Skirnir's face brightened considerably, as if pleased that Aegir had finally grasped the point. "Precisely, Your Highness! I'm delighted you understand the urgency."
"I understand that you've lost your mind," Aegir muttered.
Ignoring the comment entirely, Skirnir continued with growing enthusiasm. "I believe the selection of queen candidates should be put on the agenda immediately! In view of the fertility capabilities of the Vanir, especially the royal family, I propose we don't limit ourselves to the traditional one-queen system."
Aegir's other eye began to twitch. "Skirnir—"
"Multiple queens would be prudent!" Skirnir continued enthusiastically. "This will ensure the continuation of the royal bloodline and prevent past disasters!"
"Multiple queens," Aegir repeated flatly.
"Yes! We need more princes and princesses to boost morale and inspire our people! The Vanir need more royal powerhouses to protect them and lead them!"
Aegir pinched the bridge of his nose. "Skirnir—"
"Unfortunately, there are not many candidates of exceptional quality like Queen Frigga," Skirnir continued. "Look what she accomplished! She gave birth to many heirs for Odin—Thor, Baldur, Loki! one after another!"
"That's good for Odin, but I'm not—"
"The most critical issue is that Vanaheim hasn't produced any new goddesses of exceptional power and beauty in recent centuries. The best candidate would have been Sif, but she was taken by Asgard." Skirnir's expression soured. "From what I've heard, Odin and Frigga intend to make her Thor's wife. Not our best option."
Aegir found himself momentarily speechless.
Good grief. The old man wanted to treat him as some kind of divine breeding stock, churning out powerful offspring. Why didn't Skirnir just tie him to a bed and run a factory?
Aegir understood Skinir's perspective, even if he didn't like it. The strength of any pantheon depended on royal family members. The descendants who inherited the ruler's power possessed tremendous potential—they were the guarantee of a realm's prosperity and survival.
Asgard's powerhouses were mainly royal family members, after all. Hela, Goddess of Death, and Thor in his future prime, Baldur the Brave—all were warriors who could stand on their own, each capable of shaping the fate of realms.
Even Loki, despite his adopted status, was the son of Laufey, King of Jotunheim's Frost Giants. He had the confidence to wrestle with Thor, a body that could wield the Casket of Ancient Winters, and magical training from Frigga herself. As a matter of fact, Laufey had been powerful enough to blind one of Odin's eyes in combat.
Still, that didn't mean he was forming a football team right now.
"Ahem, Skirnir! I'm only twenty!"
"Exactly! The perfect age!" Skirnir replied eagerly. "For us, time is not a concern. But we must start now, Your Highness. For the future of the Vanir, I hope you can accept the wishes of all our people!"
Fuck, old man, Aegir thought with exasperation. It's not the people who want heirs—it's you.
Before Aegir could argue further, Skirnir's eyes lit up. "Wait! I've thought of something!"
"Skirnir, whatever you're about to say—"
"Nornheim! Queen Karnilla rules there! Her beauty is unparalleled, and she possesses magical strength rivaling Odin himself! More importantly, she and Odin don't see eye to eye. An excellent candidate!"
"Absolutely not."
"Actually, I have another proposal!" Skirnir's voice carried genuine excitement. "Hela, the eldest of Asgard, the Goddess of Death! After she contradicted Odin's ideals, she was sealed away over a thousand years ago. She's been imprisoned, surely harboring resentment. She would be a qualified candidate, and her power is legendary!"
Aegir stared at Skirnir for a long moment, trying to determine if the old warrior was serious or if he'd finally gone completely senile.
"Skirnir, let me understand. You want me to marry either a queen who doesn't bow to anyone—including Odin—or a psychotic warmonger who's been sealed for wanting to conquer the universe?"
"Precisely! Both are powerful, both oppose Asgard—"
"Forget it." Aegir shook his head firmly. "Skirnir, these two will not be considered. Not now, not ever. You can arrange the rest as you like, but leave those two off the list."
What was this? Leading wolves into the house? Should he hang a banner saying
"Realm Available for Conquest"?
Karnilla wouldn't submit to being someone's consort. She'd spent centuries building her own power. Marriage to her would be a hostile takeover waiting to happen.
As for Hela, she was probably fantasizing about conquering the universe. Even if she agreed, the Vanir would become her sacrificial pawns in wars against the Nine Realms.
The only way to deal with Hela was through absolute, crushing strength. Otherwise, she'd submit on the surface and launch a coup at the first opportunity. Even Odin had to seal his own daughter because she was too dangerous to control.
Hearing Aegir's firm refusal, Skirnir's passionate expression dimmed with obvious disappointment. In his assessment, these two goddesses were perfect candidates—powerful, beautiful, and at odds with Asgard. What more could one want?
It was a pity his king couldn't see their potential value.
Still, Skirnir found himself satisfied with Aegir's concession to "arrange the rest as you like." That was permission enough to move forward with finding suitable candidates, even if the most promising ones were off the table.
"Very well, Your Highness," Skirnir said, disappointment clear. "I shall begin compiling a list of appropriate candidates from among the Vanir nobility."
"You do that," Aegir replied and he quickly decided to change the subject before Skirnir could launch into another lecture about bloodlines and succession. "By the way, Skirnir, what are the attitudes of the other separatist forces?"
The topic shift worked immediately. Skirnir's expression transformed from disappointed matchmaker to serious military advisor in an instant.
Vanaheim was much larger than Asgard in terms of sheer territory, but most of that area was ocean. The landmasses existed primarily as islands—some large, some small—scattered across vast seas. This geography was one of the main reasons for the endless struggles over the centuries. Each island had developed its own power structure, its own ruling faction.
When the Sea Lord who could control the oceans disappeared, none of these separate forces could achieve dominance over the others. The result had been three thousand years of stalemate and civil war.
"I was just about to report on this, Your Highness," Skirnir said. "After those forces learned you regained the Sea Lord's power and defeated Thor, many expressed willingness to follow your commands."
"Many," Aegir caught the implication. "But not all."
"However..." Skirnir's expression darkened. "The forces in the north, led by the Rock Trolls, have been reluctant to express their position. They've sent no envoys, no messages of allegiance."
His hand moved to his sword hilt. "Your Highness, please allow me to lead our forces north and crush those stubborn fools! Your authority must be absolute!"
Aegir considered, then shook his head. "Wait. It's not that urgent yet. I'll handle it myself."
"Your Highness, you intend to go personally?"
"I am the Sea Lord," Aegir replied. "They need to see what that means. If I go myself and demonstrate my power, it sends a different message entirely."
"I... see your wisdom, Your Highness." Skirnir bowed, though his protective instincts clearly warred with his strategic understanding. "Then what would you have me do in the meantime?"
"Now, you go sort out the situation with those who want to renew their allegiance," Aegir instructed. "Give me reliable data—equipment, technology, population, resources. Everything. I need to know exactly what forces we're bringing in and what they can contribute."
"Yes, Your Highness!"
Skirnir understood the deeper meaning. The time had come for a unified Vanaheim. After three thousand years of division, the realm would finally be whole again.
Still, he couldn't relax completely. If something happened to Aegir without heirs, without proper succession, Skirnir wouldn't know what to do.
Thinking of this, Skirnir secretly vowed to solve Aegir's "personal problems" as soon as possible. In his mind, it had risen to the highest priority, the first matter needing resolution.
After chatting for a while longer about logistics and strategy, Skirnir finally bowed and took his leave.
As the footsteps faded, Aegir slumped back on his throne with a long exhale.
"Multiple queens," he muttered. "The old man's lost his mind."