Op. No bushes were beaten. "No." His teeth touched together behind his closed lips, threatening to clench. Not from anger, but from frustration. Freyr stared at the girl for several long seconds, even after she added to her query. He felt... drained. The truths of it all had been weighing on him for a fortnight. He sat upright, moreso than he had been, and cleared his throat. "You are much like your mother. And she was much like the goddess Gerd, who was my beloved wife before she perished. When your mother set her eyes on me, I felt myself begin to heal. It was as if the Allfather himself had sent me this Midgardian woman to cherish." Knowing Odin, it might've been true. Freyr couldn't reason with ol' one-eye as much as anyone else could reason with Freyr himself.
"When I lost her, so soon after falling in love, I felt sick. I grew frail. I could feel my gifts faltering." He sighed. "The short of it... I was weak. I had a broken heart twice over and a helpless little infant, another ruddy-haired siren to steal my wits away..." And had she... even as a newborn, and up into toddlerhood, Rhia had kept him enamored. "My duty was to my realm, I had vowed to serve Odin and he had been gracious enough to name me king all those centuries ago. I had a son, a child who would inherit my legacy, so I returned to him." To reiterate: "I chose my grown son, and returned to Alfheim where I was meant to be. I was a coward and entrusted your wellbeing to Bridget's family. My visits grew more scarce until they stopped. Every time I saw you, there she was, looking back at me. If you despise me for this, I accept that... But consider your brother, at least. He never knew of you. I have married again after I decided to sever ties with Earth, since two Midgardian decades... but you are my last child."