"You were four." Exactly four. And from the sounds of her tone, and the line of questioning, Freyr had gathered Rhiannon had had a hard time at some point without his watchful gaze. That was regrettable - no doubt a hurdle to overcome. But she seemed soured to the taste of him, for a moment, and the king himself felt quite full of daughterly backtalk already. "Well, shit. One mystery solved, I guess?" Freyr tipped his glass to the brunette, which was merely the closest glass to him at the time he'd needed one.
Freyr bowed his head to the Allfather. "Summon Brunnhilde, I would like to catch up with her," Freyr said, only partially sarcastic. She was always good for a laugh, ironically. He returned Thor's back clap with an offered hand, reaching for Thor's forearm and getting the pleasantries off his plate.
The blond man pushed Volstagg's offspring toward his daughter and her accomplice, and the red-bearded king moved to stand and look Thor in the face. "Congratulations on your marriage, and your son," although Freyr had already sent a gift for the child a month or more ago. "I'd say you met your match, but that would be a lie..." he grinned, then gave a roar of laughter, already feeling the stress from his recent run-in beginning to fade. He did owe Thor an explanation, but he had an inkling that the other king was already up to speed.
Freyr gestured to Rhiannon. "You have already met my daughter - and I must thank you for reuniting us, even though she is not yet pleased to know me." His eyes crinkled with a smile, but behind the frustration, there was hope. "It seems she is pleased to know our strapping Volstaggson, though," he said with a smirk and then shot the boy a wink. "I will speak with you again when you are ready, dóttir. The Allfather and I should converse on other matters, for now..." He gave a nod of his head to the three youngsters and then took a step away from the table to lead Thor off.