His queen had gone to fetch her adviser, the always perfunctorily respectful Nathaniel, in order to shed more light on their newest mystery. The origin of Baldr. While the Allfather kept a lingering eye on the newest party guest, Thor also wanted to keep up appearances. He'd owed Freyr a good conversion/reliving the glory days since they'd arrived and what better time than now? Especially, when it seemed as though the God of Summer and youthful regrets was... what was the pharse? 'Crashing and burning'.
Thor picked up an Asgard hitchhiker on the way and Pétr rested squarely under the Allfather's arm. In a brief, visual only exchange, Thor had silently instructed to Heimdall to keep every eye focused on Baldr. Regardless of Eva's conclusion, they still weren't sure about the man's motives. "Greetings, Pétr" Thor told his basically-nephew before they reached Freyr and Rhia's table. "Keep smiling." He told the redhead through a slightly manic grin of his own. "You have exactly ten seconds to tell your king what he's walking into." Sing little raven. And so Pétr did.
'Oh, that's awkward,' Thor thought as time expired and they reached the table.
"Freyr!" Thor slapped the old Asgardian on the back. "Slowing down already? Must I summon Brunnhilde to transport you to your final resting place?" Thor teased, verbal stick shoved directly into Freyr's ribs. "And Lady Rhiannon, always a pleasure." Thor confirmed then lightly pushed Pétr toward the younger people. "This one," his eyes widened at his nephew, "cannot stop talking about you." Which wasn't entirely false, just not at this particular moment. "So, how is the party going?"