HEY GUYS

So basically I've been writing fanfiction for a long time on AO3 (you can find that in my bio if you like), and I mostly got this account to manage the fics I've been reading, most of which are on here. And I've only just now figured out how to post something without uploading a file SO please enjoy the fanfiction I wrote the other day.

He woke in a garden. It appeared to be midday, and birds were cooing all around. He could smell the flowers and hear the noises of a little fountain before he turned his head to look. He sat up, expecting something to hurt.

When nothing did, he looked down at himself, frowning. There was no blood. No ache in his muscles. No pounding in his head.

Nothing.

Even his clothes were different. Though his tunic was still green, it was a lighter color. His trousers were a a dark gray. There was a scarlet blanket wrapped around his shoulders, like a shroud. He rubbed the soft fabric between his fingers, his hair spilling into his face.

Wrapping the blanket around his shoulders, he looked around more. It was a clear day, warm, with a gentle breeze pushing his hair into his face. He pushed it back behind his ear and stood, legs shaky.

It was a lovely garden, he thought to himself as he looked around. The grass was soft against his bare feet. Peaceful, even. Relaxing. He had a sense that he should be more disturbed by the sense of calm over the place. Wasn't there something he was forgetting...?

Well, never mind it now, he thought, catching sight of a beautiful pink and yellow flower. He took the bloom in his hand and bent to sniff it, smiling as he did so. When was the last time he had given a genuine smile...?

And yet, as he pulled at the blanket to make sure it didn't trail on the ground, he realized he was happy. He continued wandering though what seemed like the endless garden until he reached a pear tree. The fruit was ripe and golden, and so he reached up and plucked one from the tree. He bit into it, and the juices ran down his hand. It was delicious, he thought, swiping a finger down to catch the trail of juice before it reached his sleeve. It wasn't long before he finished it and he continued on, licking the juices off his fingers.

A few minutes—or was it hours?—later, he saw a figure sitting on a bench. A woman, he thought, as he approached, for she wore a long gown, and her hair was in a braid over her shoulder. He got even closer, and she turned, surprised when she saw him. "Loki?"

Loki stopped. Oh, he thought, that's my name. He frowned. How had he forgotten that?

But as she stood, closing the gap between them in an embrace, he recognized who this was.

This is my mother.

He smiled and embraced her in return, closing his eyes. Yet he couldn't shake the feeling that this was somehow wrong. "Hello, Mother," he said instead. "How are you?"

"I am well, my son," she said, her smile bright. "Though, I am surprised to see you here."

"Oh? Why?" She pulled away and held him at arms length.

"Do... What do you remember?" She asked, hesitant for some reason.

"You're my mother," he said. "And I'm Loki. We're in a garden and..." He paused. This wasn't Asgard's gardens. He frowned again, deeper this time, and said "Where are we?"

"Oh, child," she murmured, and led him over to the bench by his hand. He sat next to her and she continued to hold it, even covering it with her other hand. "Loki, darling, we are in Valhalla."

"Valhalla...?" Loki stared at er for a moment, blinking. "But doesn't that mean...?"

"Yes, Loki," she said, gentle as ever as she pushed a loose strand of hair back behind his ear. "We are dead."

Dead. Dead. He was dead.

He could feel the cold metal of the shrapnel inside of him, could feel the warmth of his own blood, saw Thor kneeling above him, cradling him, crying over him. I'm a fool, I'm a fool, I'm a fool, I'm...

Blood. Pain. Anger, madness, rage-

All was now replaced with a sense of calm and a little confusion. He remembered how he had died. He remembered being afraid to die, of apologizing to Thor, of agreeing to go along with his stupid plan for vengeance.

He looked down at the scarlet blanket around his shoulders. It was the precise shade of Thor's cape. He would go as far to say that it was Thor's cape. "Why do I have this?" He asked, looking up at Frigga.

"Alas, I know not, my son," she replied. "How do you feel?"

"Um..." He looked down at his hands, tilting his head a bit, considering. They changed from their æs coloring to jotun. Blue, darker, intricate markings lined his skin. He felt the change continue and once it was complete, he looked up at Frigga. "I don't know," he replied at last. "I was... I was angry. But now I just feel..." He waved his hands, trying to think of the word.

"At peace?" Frigga supplied.

"...Maybe," Loki said, uncertain, then shook his head. "No, that's not it. It's different. It's..." He pursed his lips, thinking for a few moments before shrugging. "I suppose it will come to me later," he finished. Frigga smiled, kissing his hand. For now, he was happy just to sit and watch the birds with his mother.

A little—or maybe it was a long—time later, he said "I must say, this isn't what I expected when I thought of Valhalla."

"Valhalla is vast," Frigga said. "This is merely a portion of it. You came here because it was where you would be the happiest to wake."

"Is this where you arrived?" He asked. She nodded.

"Though I must admit," she said, "I was not expecting you so soon."

Loki was quiet, squeezing her hand tighter. He began to breath harder. Frigga looked up at him and said "What is it, darling?"

"I-" He swallowed, shaking his head. "They told me- They told me that you had- And I... I said to you..." Loki squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before looking up at her, eyes full of desperation. "I was wrong," he said. "You... You are my mother. Always. I'm- And I-" Loki looked down again, his other hand curling into the blanket. "I told them how to get out of the dungeons," he said in a rush, his throat closing further with every word. "I told them to go left and- I never imagined that they would- that they'd-"

"Oh, my son," Frigga murmured and tugged her hand out of his, putting her arms around him. "Loki, it is not your fault. There was no way you could have known."

"I shouldn't have told them," he replied, trying to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat. "I should have-"

"Should have what?" Frigga said. "There was nothing you could have done, darling. I promise, I do not blame you for what happened. Do you understand?"

Loki squeezed his eyes shut again and nodded, unable to speak for fear of his voice breaking. He swallowed instead and she kissed his temple. His breath was still unsteady, so she whispered "Let it out, sweetheart. It's alright now. You're alright, just let it all out."

So Loki buried himself into his mother's embrace and cried, heaving sobs that shook him to the core, tears slipping free and down his cheeks for what seemed like ages. And she held him all the while, whispering things into his ear, that he barely understood, simply glad for her voice, her scent, her touch, her everything. She was there, he was safe, and that was all that mattered.

When he started to quiet, she said "Loki, can you match my breathing, please? Deep breaths... That's it. Good, Loki. You're okay now. I've got you. I'm here. Just breath."

When Loki was calm, he remained in her embrace for a moment longer, eyes closed, enjoying the feel of her fingers running through his hair, lightly scratching his scalp. When he spoke, his voice was heavy and raw.

"I was protecting Thor and Jane Foster from Malekith." He paused, then added "He... killed me."

Frigga's fingers stilled for a moment. "Malekith killed you?"

"The Kurse," Loki clarified. He felt sleepy and vaguely irritated that she'd stopped moving her hand. "I returned the favor." He sighed and Frigga began stroking his hair again.

"How did you get out of the dungeons?" She asked.

"Thor let me out. He needed to know where the passage to the Dark World was. He committed treason again," he added her, opening his eyes to look up at her. "So did Heimdall. And Fandral. And Sif. And Volstagg. And Hogun." He grinned and closed his eyes again. "They are going to be in so much trouble..." He trailed off, his smile fading. "...If we even succeeded."

"I'm sure you did," Frigga assured him. "Why did you need to get to Svartalfheim?"

Loki smiled again and said "Thor had this plan." He told her of how Thor had come to him, demanding his help. Of how they'd stolen a ship and how Loki had pretended to betray Thor without telling Jane.

"That bit was my idea," he made sure to tell her. "Thor's original plan was... less than brilliant."

"Clever," Frigga said. "But it didn't work?"

"Mm," Loki said. "No. The Aether put itself back together. Though, it is no longer in Jane Foster."

"Good," Frigga said. "I like her."

"I like her too," Loki said. "She has spirit."

"Aye," Frigga nodded. "That she does. Much like another I know," she tugged on his ear a little and Loki huffed.

The silence stretched for a long time. Or no time at all. It was hard to judge time in this place, Loki thought, eyes still closed as Frigga ceased stroking his hair and began to play with it instead, making little braids.

"Loki," she said. "Why did you try to take Midgard?"

A startled laugh burst forth from Loki. "Of course, now someone asks," he said, sitting up and shaking the hair out of his eyes. "I didn't want to. I didn't have a choice. Well," he admitted, "I did, but at that point I couldn't even remember what my name was. I just wanted it to stop."

"For what to stop?" Frigga asked. Loki shrugged.

"The torture," he replied and began to put more little braids in his hair. Frigga waited and Loki continued, disliking the silence. "Just because no one in Asgard found me after I fell doesn't mean no one did. Did you never wonder where I got the army from?"

Frigga's eyes widened and she went pale. "I- Torture?"

"Mm-hmm," Loki said, reaching around to pick a flower. It was a blue and silver one and he stood, beginning to make a flower crown. "I landed eventually and was found by one who wished to have the tesseract. I told him about myself and he offered me an army and a kingdom in exchange for it. He was, to put it mildly, 'less than pleased' when I turned him down."

"Wh- Loki why did you not say any of this?" She asked.

"At the trial?" Loki looked at her, raising a skeptical eyebrow. "Really? Who would have believed me?"

"I would have," she said. Loki sighed.

"As much as I would like to believe that," he said, "I highly doubt it."

She got up and followed as he began to wander, collecting more flowers for the crown. "Why do you doubt me, child?"

"Simple," Loki said. "No one trusts a liar. Even Thor said he wished he could trust me. I've no doubts that you love me, Mother, but can you look me in the eye and say you trusted me?"

Frigga gave a breathy laugh and Loki turned, frowning. "What?"

"Oh, Loki," she said, smiling a little. "My sweet, darling Loki. You never could lie to me. And for good reason." She leaned in and said "I know your tell."

Loki raised his eyebrows. "Me? I have no tell. I made sure of that years ago."

"It is not an obvious one, but even so, it is there." She walked ahead, for Loki had stopped walking to look at her in astonishment. Shaking himself, he caught up to her.

"Well? What is it?"

Frigga only smiled.

"There is a hall not far from here where we may eat," she said, Loki finishing his crown. "Would you like to go?"

"Not yet," Loki said, and placed the crown on her head. He picked more flowers and began to start one for himself.