To cope with the rumors that Frigga will die in Thor 2. Oh no. Not the only character (besides Thor) who still loves Loki. Fix-it fic for a rumor? ... I'm not obsessed. Really.
Loki awoke, his customary control slipping as he jerked up. He drew in a sharp breath through the muzzle and his eyes darted around. His cell was silent. The prison was silent.
He swung his legs over to the edge of the bed—he would have grimaced in disgust if he had been able. It was a bare cot, no more than a stone table with a thin mattress that had more lumps than stuffing and a threadbare blanket.
Frigga had given him the blanket.
Loki tensed, his hands fisting into the edge of the mattress. Frigga. His mother. But no, she was not even that. He at least knew who his father was, but his true mother was a secret even he could not discover. He regretted killing Laufey now, if only for that. And because it hadn't gotten him what he wanted.
Loki stilled his body, noticing that he was beginning to shake with anger.
And fear.
He quenched a shiver before it could become apparent to those watching—if indeed they were. Was he not simply forgotten in this place?
Mother has not forgotten me, he thought, and wondered that he still thought of the wife of Odin as mother. But then she had not been like the rest. To Odin he had been a pawn, to her he had simply been her son. She had not been lying about that, the silvertongue knew. The knowledge twisted inside him, a remnant of the sentimentality that he despised.
It was this sentimentality, this affection for the queen of Asgard that was weakening him. He held up his hands and they were shaking. With fear and anger and trepidation over a dream.
A dream.
Loki knotted his hands into fists, bringing them back into his lap. Then he knew he was about to begin shaking again and he stood abruptly, beginning to pace around the room.
Cell.
He was in prison.
Powerless.
Speechless.
He knew no one would believe him, for he did not believe himself. He was not one of the seers or soothsayers, the dominion of dreams was not his. They were simple nightmares, ones he should have grown out of long ago, certainly after he discovered his true parentage.
Or fathering.
He spun on his heel and paced to the other end of the room.
He'd never even found out who his true mother was. He hadn't wanted to. He'd still been a boy in so many ways, and yet growing up so fast. He'd lost everything he thought he'd had, he didn't want to lose his mother as well.
Loki stopped in the center of the room, mid-stride.
His mother.
He reviewed every word she had ever spoken and he knew that she, at least, regarded herself as his mother. Even now, after all he had done. It was a motherly disappointment that shone out of her eyes, a motherly love that had ordered the guards to bring him a blanket last night, a motherly intuition that made her whisper that she had always worried for Thor, that he would grow to love battle too much, and that he should look after his brother because of the two he was the more levelheaded, and a mother who had asked him how she had gone wrong, that he had become this.
Loki slowly tightened his fists, before he noticed. He swallowed, wishing he could work the loose muscles in his jaw. He wished he could tell her that he was sorry.
He realized then that he had never stopped being her son.
So, what do you think? I've had this one in a Word document for a while, and thinking about it I don't think he'd still have the muzzle on, but...well maybe. Loki's hard. Truly, properly hard to write, and I blame the writers for not carving out a proper characterization because Chitauri do not make much sense.
So what I'm trying to say is this isn't necessarily canon, the characterization is off, but I have to put it somewhere because there are not enough Frigga and Loki stories. I'll try my best.