The tower was cold and damp. Loki was alone, apart from the guards. The complex metal mouth piece made his jaw ache, and the heavy duty hand cuffs cut at his wrists.
A cloaked figure approached. She moved hurriedly past the guards. They didn't flinch. It was like she didn't exist. The figure stepped towards the bars of Loki's cell. They crackled with energy, but as the figure raised her hand slowly, the electricity stopped running.
Loki, startled by the sudden silence, opened his eyes. The cloaked woman pulled back her hood. It was Frigga. Loki's eyes widened in shock, but Frigga merely laughed.
"Don't look so surprised Loki. You act as if you forgot who taught you magic."
A young Loki, perhaps five years of age, crawls into Frigga's lap as she conjures stars to dance above his head.
Frigga opened the door with a subtle flick of her wrist and she slowly entered the cell. Loki backed away to the far side of the cell apprehensively. The queen of Asgard took a seat on the unfriendly metal bench, sitting as though she were at her throne: regal and elegant.
The twinkling stars reflect in his eyes as he laughs in delight. Frigga reclines on the soft chair and takes the boy in her arms.
"Your father and brother did not want me to come. They told me you were dangerous. But I do not believe them. I know you have done terrible things. Horrible things. But that does not change who you are. Who you always have been.
"I came here to ask for forgiveness, Loki. I have failed you. I let your father and brother treat you poorly. Your brother has a stubborn, superior nature. And I let him torment you with teasing as a child. I never caught it, back then. But now, it seems so very clear.
"And your father…"
Loki's head rests easily on his mother's shoulder. He yawns absently as he reaches for the stars.
"When your father brought you from Jotunheim, he saw you as a diplomatic pawn. But when I looked into your cradle, I saw an innocent child who deserved to be loved, not pushed about a chess board when it suited Asgard most. Nobody else understands. They say you are evil. Born evil. But I know better. You wanted the power that Thor constantly saw fit to taunt you with. You wanted to be accepted, to make your father proud.
Frigga rocks him softly as she carries him to his bed. He struggles weakly as she pulls the blankets over his body, but he slowly allows himself to be tucked in.
"I do not approve of your decisions. I wish you had chosen another way. But I do not blame you, I hope you will forgive me. For not protecting you. And I want you to know that I have forgiven you. I hope you can forgive me as well."
Loki took a cautious step towards his mother. He moved to sit next to her on the bench, and a tear slowing trickled down his face. And then he fell apart. He buried his head in Frigga's shoulder, the tears flowing more freely.
He pleads for a lullaby and his mother, unable to resist his sweet face, settles in on the bed next to him, stroking his hair and beginning to sing.
"No matter what. You are, and you will always be, my son."