There it was again. That shooting anger. She was known as a kind and benevolent queen to Odin's heavier hand. But few things angered her more than slights against children. And knowing that there was a daughter another version of her would never get to raise for some unknown, foolish reason made her furious.
"Ah, Mjolnir. He does love that hammer." It was a formidable weapon, and he was fortunate to be able to wield it. "He's a good man in our time. Getting his feet under him still in many ways, but a strong leader and a capable warrior." She was, without question, a proud mother first and foremost.
Her head tilted, watching the conflict on the pretty face. "You may not need comfort, Sylvie, but you have it if you're willing to take it. Not everything has to be a struggle, not any longer. The note the Entity sent you, the one that brought you here. It should have given you a dwelling? It's warm and comfortable, though you may have a roommate or two. Please don't attempt to stab them, it only goes badly here."
Frigga knew her son. And if her daughter was at all like her son, the warning couldn't hurt.