End of Jol, yes, yes. Fjolnir used to enjoy extravagant festivities which put on display the sheer over abundance of the royal families. He'd enjoy the over stuffing of food and drink, the transcendent merriment, and most importantly the aftermath of the festival - when the common persons pantries were fuller and their pockets overstuffed after the (sometimes weeks long) decadence of the monarchs. A reward from their loyalty and patience...
These things pleased the God of Bounty, but not much pleased him these days. Asgard stood rebuilt, the Allfather was not as wise but made up for it with heart, and the new queen seemed as determined as him to reward the people of her realm. But that was hardly what he was able to focus on. Their family, which for years had stood at four, now had a new member. Who apparently was unimpressed with... them? A literal god had extended his arms to this mortal woman and welcomed her into a brand new life and she'd rejected it?
Fjolnir stewed, of course Freyr wasn't the ideal father figure and Odin knew Skadi wasn't the warmest person to greet someone... And Fjolnir's aunt was, her own thing. But what the Alfheim royals had offered Rhiannon was nothing to scoff at. And she had.
The prince slowly approached his half-sister, who still wielded the uncomfortably accurate likeness to his deceased mother, and sized up the woman. "You spurn us, sister," his hostile words delivered through quite an earnest smile. "Our father has offered you a better existence and you hesitate, why?"