I do not own Thor: The Dark World.

I just think the characters are super cool.

Mother

It is not easy being a mother. Especially being the mother of a god. Especially being the mother of two gods. But Queen Frigga, wife of Odin Allfather, had always done the best she could.

Thor was hers. Through and through. Sometimes that made her feel pride, sometimes it did not. But through much error, trial and adversity, Thor had become the being he should be. And that was good. She knew much of that change was the influence of the Midgardian Jane Foster. She still marveled that a mere mortal could so affect an Asgardian warrior prince.

Ah, but there were stranger things, she supposed.

And then there was Loki.

Not of her. Not of Odin. A child born of Frost Giants. A child born of evil. Placed in her arms by her battle-ravaged husband while yet a small babe. In hopes of safeguarding against future conflict. In hopes of changing the life course of the innocent, abandoned, runt victim of the bloody combat. She had not known if she could care for him, raise him as her son.

Until she had looked into his bright blue eyes, heard his soft coo. She had known then that he was hers as well.

Little Thor. Little Loki. They had always been so very different. From the time they were young boys. As different in their words and deeds as in appearance. Thor would do things right out in the open. He was always bold and brash. He knew, simply knew that he was right in everything he did. Loki, on the other hands, would act deceptively, quietly, and then put a countenance of innocence upon himself to everyone involved.

When they were yet still young, these little idiosyncrasies had held a certain level of charm even through her whispering disquiet. But as the pair grew older, her heart began to murmur that one day their individual peculiarities would bring about much grief and despair if left unchecked.

So as Thor had made poor choices and suffered and learnt better from them, Loki had grown darker and darker within himself. And she could not stop it. Though she had tried to counsel him, he had gone his own way. Straight into evil.

She had always hoped Loki would work himself out as his brother Thor had done. He had millennia upon millennia to do so. She did not wish for him to be a duplicate of Thor, only a better version of himself. And every time he failed, oh how she suffered inside.

Until the very last moment of her life when everything she had ever known passed through her eyes, she had held fast to her mother hope. Frigga had thought of them all then. And had known they would hold true to themselves. And she had thought of Loki, so lost in his evil. And she had hoped he would turn away from it before it was too late.

Now as she floated in the void, in the eternal plane of beings who are undying, unending, Frigga watched them from afar.

She saw how they mourned. She saw Odin, god of all gods, cradle her empty body and weep. She saw Thor use the heavy blackness of his grief to strengthen the weakened barriers of his fortitude against the oncoming enemy horde. Even the mortal Jane Foster with her lovely eyes and tender, strong heart

And she saw Loki. Little, lost Loki. Imprisoned deep within Asgard. She saw him weep and thrash and rage alone in his isolation and misery. Even with all the deceptions and evils of his twisted black little heart, he had mourned. Mourned deeply for her, his mother. She saw his mind whisper to him that it didn't really matter, that she was not even truly his mother. Just an adopted, expendable version.

And she saw that his heart didn't care.

For she was indeed his mother. The only mother he had ever known.

Loki's grief at Frigga's death, as well as the death itself, really touched me. Well, you know, til he went right on being bad. Of course. But that's Loki. It's what he does.

Thanks to Whitelion69, starfallen00, and Eva for your kind reviews. :)

Thanks to Teh Skwirl and DjinnAtwood for adding your support to this short story.

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