The Asgardian night sky was brilliant that night. A million stars shone while swirls of purple and gold ran across the cosmos.

He would have loved nights like this

The Allmother was standing at the balcony, looking up at the stars with a shadow of a smile on her face.

She remembered the last she went star-gazing. She was on the observation deck then, sitting on one of the many couches littered around. She was studying the stars that night to see what the future may hold. In a week or so, her son, Thor, will be coronated as king of Asgard. She felt something will go wrong and her study confirmed it.
"What troubles thee, Mother?"
She looked down on her lap to meet the emerald eyes of the voice's owner. He had a small smile of encouragement on his face as his head was laid down on her lap.
She smiled, reaching down to run her aged fingers through his ebony black hair.
"Nothing to be worried about, dear." She whispered back with a grin which he gladly returned before he looked back up at the stars.

Her memories continued on as Frigga gazed up at the stars. Nothing could have prepared her for losing him.

It was unfair.
People who lose their spouses are called widows or widowers.
Children who lost their parents are called orphans.
What could she call herself; a parent that lost her child?

A sob finally broke through as tears fell down her eyes.
"Oh Loki…"