Entry tags:

frigga (mcu), loki odinson (mcu)

Who: Frigga and Loki (MCU)
What: Mother and son reunion
Where: On board the ship
When: Immediately after Frigga was let off of hold in the Medbay
Warnings: Not much? A bit of Loki's father issues, mostly.

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This new realm was quite interesting. It wasn’t the simple and drab that she’d been led to believe of Midgard, although they were exceptionally careful in the passing of toxins. Frigga didn’t mind, she could wait the few hours until she was approved. There was little to concern her, her physiology wouldn’t allow for a simple sickness to affect her. So she waited, and familiarised herself with the unusual communication device.

She was entirely pleased to know that both her sons were present, and seemingly not at one another’s throats. She did so enjoy when they were getting along with each other, like brothers. It pained her to think that they may never see eye to eye, that the harshness of a competitive childhood might poorly affect their relation for the remainder of their lives. And it was such a long time to be so sharp with each other.

Things were different however, she could tell that much, she’d missed some things unfolding, but there was plenty of time now to catch up, and she was looking forward to all that would unfold. Starting with a delightful mother and son lunch following her release from the brief quarantine on the ship. “Such a luxurious realm, this cruise ship is very lovely.” The adventure was quite thrilling.

Loki hadn’t known what to say at first. He’d spent a solid few minutes simply staring at the screen. The last he’d seen of Frigga, she’d been a projection in his cell. He’d rejected her, and regretted it the instant the words had escaped his tongue. He’d never had a chance to apologize, to tell her that he didn’t mean it. All of the gifts Frigga had given him, all of the efforts she’d made to make him comfortable in his prison, and he’d never thanked her. He’d given her only anger and bitterness.

He checked on Frigga (the kitten) and on Einar one more time before he left. Unimpressed, Frigga curled into a corner of the couch in the common area with her back to him. Einar at least had the decency to glance up from where he’d curled on the floor at the base of the couch. Loki raised an eyebrow. “You approve?” The dog huffed a breath and tucked his head back under his tail. “A lot of help you are,” Loki muttered, but he straightened his shirt one last time before he stepped out of his cabin.

When he stepped into the medbay, he paused. Just a few days ago, he’d been stuck in bed here, with Thor almost constantly at his side. He’d wanted nothing more than to leave, then. Loki found himself afraid to cross the threshold, in case this was another lie, and it wasn’t his mother at all. Ridiculous, he knew, but the universe had destroyed his aspirations often enough.

Her computerised escort led her from the quarantine area to the general med lab, giving her the general run down on the ship itself while answering her questions in an exceptionally rehearsed manner. Although she supposed that the technologies here were programmed with a specific response to such things, so she didn’t hold it against them.

But the purpose wasn’t to question the robots, it was for her release and a meeting with her beloved son. Of whom she spotted quickly as she was led into the area proper. “Loki,” it was nice to not see him in chains, or in a cell, contained and controlled due to the sentences passed down. Her smile was instant and wide, a mother’s joy at seeing her son well and free. A mother never wanted to see their child caged, so whatever Realm this was, regardless, she was pleased that it afforded her this. “Come and give your mother a proper hug, dear.” She hadn’t been able to embrace him, not following his return, not during his imprisonment, the mourning of his passing was never asauged with knowing he was there and okay.

“Mother.” Loki had planned to be cordial, even warm, but regal in this public place at his reunion with Frigga. He abandoned those plans immediately at the sight of her. His long legs carried him across the room in a handful of steps, and he pulled her close, burying his face against her hair to conceal his emotions from the mechanical onlookers. It must have been an odd sight, the queen of Asgard in her finery embraced by her son clad in barely-broken-in blue jeans, a green shirt, and black hoodie. The clothes weren’t Loki’s style at all, but he was stuck with them. He couldn’t have cared less in that moment.

“I’m sorry,” he told her, the words tumbling out of him in a rush. “I never meant it. I was a fool, and angry.” And afraid, he almost said, but couldn’t bring himself to admit. “I was wrong, Mother. I ought to have said so many things, but never what I did. Not to you.”

He was different from when she’d last seen him, an illusion from a distance, aching at the thought of her beloved son caged so totally. She didn’t like it, but she didn’t push Odin beyond his concession of a life term instead of death, she knew to give it some time before approaching it again. It didn’t make it easier to deal with the separation. One which was not currently an issue, as her arms encased her curiously dressed son tightly, uncaring of her dress creasing in the slightest.

Both her sons had long since grown out of their need for soothing, but it didn’t stop being a mother’s instinct to put her child at ease, regardless of their age, “Oh dearest, I know.” Of course she knew, words were cutting at times, and sometimes they were the only weapons needed. Loki’s attempt to push her away, to distance himself, she understood it. Anger and fear did foolish things to people. She never held it against her son. For he would always be her son. “You can’t lie to a mother, least of all your own.” Even in the heat of the moment, she wouldn’t believe he meant such things. “I forgive you, Loki. Just as I will always be here.”

It was a stretch upwards for her to cup his sharp features in her hands, stroke a smooth cheek with her thumb, where it had once been a crouch to do such things. “Nothing you ever say will stop me from being your mother.”

More than the imprisonment, Loki had loathed Odin’s righteousness when he’d passed down the sentence. He’d endeavored not to show it, but his father’s fierce declaration, that Loki ought to have died, had hurt him more deeply than any other slight his father had committed against him. And Odin had had the nerve to take everything from Loki, to lock him away for an eternity, and behave as though Odin himself were not guilty of crimes as bad as Loki’s own, or worse.

He relished Frigga’s touch now. He hadn’t been there when she’d died, hadn’t been permitted to be part of her funeral in any way. He’d never had the opportunity to properly say goodbye. To have her here was a relief. “I still need to say it,” he insisted, covering her hand with his own. “I should have said it sooner. I cannot apologize for what I said of Odin, but you never deserved my ire.”

Loki chose not to reply to his mother’s insistence that she would always be there for him. It hurt too much to think that she wouldn’t be. In their own world, she would die. In this one, she could disappear at any moment, or he could. One way or another, she would be stolen from him.

To Frigga, her path had no unfolded. She had an inkling, she usually did, not foresight, she was not granted that burden, but as she’d said to Odin a great many times, she had a sense for things. The Dark Elves, the coming battles, the Aether, Frigga had the sense that all would not be well. Understanding that both her children were well, better than they had been at the time she departed Asgard, it told her that the realms still stood, that Malekith failed to destroy them. But it did not tell her the cost of such a victory.

“You and your father,” she couldn’t avoid calling him such things, as much as Loki held his hurts, felt what he felt, Frigga couldn’t sway from what they had tried to be. “You will have your differences, as any would, one day perhaps there will be balance, but my support will forever be with you.” She raised these boys from youth, helped to shape them, watched them grow. There would be nothing that could stop her heart from holding them close.

Not even Loki’s ambition.

“We do not need to speak of such things, however. It is a happy day that we are both present in the same place, able to walk from room to room. I believe this ship is to be full of luxuries just waiting to be explored.”

Loki glanced aside, uncomfortable, when the conversation lingered a moment longer on the All-Father. It wasn’t simply that he still bore some ill will toward the man, despite Odin’s attempt at reconciliation before his death. It was that he didn’t care to see how his mother would react to talk of Odin’s passing, or Hela’s return, and the disaster that had followed. Though Loki could have cast an illusion to conceal his response, he didn’t. He owed Frigga, at least, some honesty.

Besides, she had always been able to see right through him and his conjurings.

“The luxuries lose their appeal after time, I’m afraid,” Loki confessed as he offered his arm to his mother, a gentleman for her where he was more often nothing but trouble for others. “Then again, you have a greater talent for finding joy in the little things than I. I haven’t cultivated that particular skill as much as I am certain you would prefer.” He smiled ruefully, to show that he wasn’t bitter or casting blame. He simply acknowledged that some talents escaped him.

“We’ll have to make proper introductions, of course. I’d apologize that you’ve now two of me on your hands, but I think you’ll find my counterpart charming. Torunn, in my opinion, takes after her father. And her mother. And Valkyrie is … honestly, I’ve no idea how to describe her, but Thor is fascinated, as I’m sure you can imagine.” Loki might be back to admitting fraternal affection for Thor, but he wasn’t going to give up on teasing him. Ever.

“Perhaps, after we’ve dined, we should stop by my quarters as well. There is someone there you should meet. I don’t wish for you to be surprised.”

Giving Loki’s arm a small squeeze, Frigga fell into step with him comfortably, “There is joy in so many little things,” but Frigga had spent more time in the world, embracing the little things that would unfold before her, the small comforts. “In time I am sure you’ll find the same.” The realm wasn’t in the same state of peace as much of her time with Odin had been, there were frictions and uprisings more and more now, and she believed that in time that peace would be restored, by Odin or Thor, perhaps even Loki would be willing to assist his brother, their newly restored camaraderie gave her hope for that.

“He seems quite charming, rather at balance,” that battle for self-acceptance, for finding a place in the world, it was the largest challenge to overcome. She had the sense her alternate son had managed to do so, just as she was hoping her own son was finding now. “There are benefits to falling in Thor’s footsteps, she is a warrior in her own right, but I’m afraid I’m unaware of who her mother is?” Torunn hadn’t divulged her entire parentage, and truly Frigga wasn’t thinking on it at the time. That she was the daughter of any version of her son was enough for Frigga to call her family.

Valkyrie, Brunnhilde, it was a complicated matter. Frigga had of course heard of the brutal slaying of the Valkyries, Odin sharing the defeat of his trusted riders to her early in their marriage, but that Brunnhilde had survived the battle, still survived to this day, it was impressive, and she could see exactly why Thor would be taken with her. “Yes, I can imagine that very well.” Thor seemed naturally drawn to strong women. Frigga couldn’t fault it.

Loki’s offer to introduce her to someone, after they’d eaten, it caught her attention and sparked a small smile, “I would love to, darling. Surprises can sometime be unfortunate.” Although she doubted that the introduction to someone in Loki’s life would be a bad one.

“Perhaps, in time, I will gain wisdom such as yours,” Loki agreed with his mother, though he doubted that he ever would. His heart and mind were too restless, and he found too much joy in tricks for him to imagine that he might someday be able to appreciate a quieter life.

“His story strays from my own,” Loki continued, speaking of his other self. “It is his tale to tell, and so I will leave that to him, lest I find myself the target of my own brand of mischief. As for Torunn, I am not certain if I ought to tell you who her mother is or not. Perhaps I shall leave you that mystery to solve on your own. Though I will say that if our Thor’s fascination with Valkyrie continues, it’s likely he’ll have get other than his daughter, so you can cross Brunnhilde off your list of possibilities.”

They had not yet set a positive direction as they walked, so Loki inquired, “What are you in the mood for, Mother? They’ve no Asgardian fare on board, but it seems most Midgardian tastes have been accounted for in their restaurants.”

Time would tell if her sons would settle, if their thirst for adventure and danger would slow to the point that they could appreciate the simple things that life offered, if their patience would grow to allow them such rest. She held fast to the hope, there was a joy in being able to appreciate things as they would unfold. Odin had once been restless, had a thirst for conquest and glory. In time he wanted a more peaceful life, one they built together. Someday her sons may look for such things too.

“Tales they can weave for me when they feel, I am sure.” Frigga knew that Torunn grew up in Midgard, raised by Thor’s friend and team mate, the Man of Iron, but little was discussed of her parents. But Frigga was sure she would have time to get to know of her young granddaughter, and her other-world son. “There is little need to rush.” Time, she felt, was something to appreciate.

It was a pity there was no food familiar to her, but then, this was meant to be some kind of exploration of the Midgardian ways, something she could discover like her sons had previously. Midgard wasn’t a realm she’d visited herself. “Something light would be fine. I’m sure their food is most adequate,” there would likely be complaints otherwise. “Which are your favourites, dear?”

“Since I seem to be in an honest mood today, I’ve yet to come to land upon any Midgardian favorites.” Loki offered his mother a charming smile. “I miss Asgardian fare. Perhaps not the excess, but mortals are such fragile creatures, and some of their indulgences seem terribly lacking as a consequences. They do have an artistic bent, though. I will give them that. Their French cuisine might do, though if you’d care for something more similar to home, I believe the mortal answer to our feasts is the steakhouse.”

He allowed conversation of Torunn and the others to wane. No doubt his mother would extract the answers she required of them or about them in her own time. Loki was pleased simply to have her near. He couldn’t quite help himself when he laid a hand over Frigga’s and said, softly, “I’ve missed this.”

The feasts of Asgard could occasionally become too much; they were loud and boisterous and usually devolved into some kind of brawl. But they could be good for people too, time to reconnect after battles. They were some fun for the groups, but she could see them losing appear after a few hundred years. “They have their time and place, but it’s good to have some creativity in their work. French cuisine would be lovely.” She wasn’t entirely sure what it was, but she was happy to try it regardless.

Loki’s soft admission, although not surprising, was warming. She knew her son had his prickly moments, both her children reacted quickly and intensely, often not with logic, but with emotion. She didn’t fault them for it, not in the least, she applauded their ability to feel so deeply and greatly, even if it wasn’t always the best reaction of the moment. Odin had been a stubborn and quick tempered old goat for many years. “As have I.” The news that Loki was lost to them was deeply troubling for Frigga, while the word of his passing turned out to be false, she had still mourned her son and all the things she had lost. Fleetingly regaining that was a salve to her bruised heart, although that too was not without its downsides. “But I am glad to reclaim such past times.”

All of a sudden, Loki wanted to hug her again, to be reassured that his mother was here, and real, and alive. Instead, he laid his hand over hers in a subtle gesture of affection he had often used when they were in front of the court, and propriety had kept him from making any more obvious show of his feelings in the moment. “We have so much to catch up on. I think, though, we should enjoy our meal first. I do not wish to spoil this reunion.”

Later, he would take her to his cabin, and introduce her to Einar and to Frigga, and tell her of how the dog and cat had cheerfully invited themselves into his home in Tumbleweed. He would confess to her what he had confessed to no other … that he hadn’t had the heart to turn either creature away, despite his public grumbling and complaints.

Those soft, subtle moments, times when she knew the message even if others might not perceive a change, they were a mother’s greatest pleasure. Her sons were held to standards by the expectations of the royal family of Asgard, things were expected, protocol and actions. It wasn’t proper to embrace in front of everyone, to show some weakness, even if Frigga saw the affection as no such thing. So the hand clasp became their public embrace, and it always brought a smile to Frigga’s face, as it did now.

“There would be no spoiling of things, son. But a nice meal would be pleasant.” Her foray into Midgardian food would be interesting, and she had no need to rush the reunion with either of her sons, they could share their adventures with her as quickly as they wished. She was happy to walk this new adventure with them.