She reached out to touch the empty crib. The bars felt like smooth icicles, and as she recoiled at the cold, the crib began to shrink. It was moving away from her.
No, she was falling away from it.
She reached towards it and started to call out, but the name caught in her throat. She felt tears begin to build up in the corners of her eyes. She'd lost him.
And then Frigga jerked awake, her heart pounding and her night shift soaked with sweat. Odin was snoring peacefully next to her, unaware of her nightmare.
It was a nightmare she'd had every night since he returned from Jotunheim several months ago, one eye heavily bandaged, and carrying an infant swaddled in cloth.
The child was small, even by the standards of Asgardian newborns, so she'd naturally been skeptical when Odin told her that he was a frost giant, son of King Laufey, left to die. He'd waved a hand over the bundle, and the sleeping infant's skin appeared blue for an instant. He stirred and turned towards her, reaching out with a tiny, pudgy hand, eyes briefly red before fading to a pale blue.
Odin had handed her the bundle, and she smiled at the infant as he grabbed ahold of one of her loose curls and began gently sucking on it. "He's a lovely child… Does he have a name?"
Odin shook his head. "He was abandoned. I doubt he was ever given one."
Frigga thought for a moment. "…Loki, I think. His name shall be Loki." She held the baby close. "You've had quite the busy day today, Loki. Are you hungry? Tired? Perhaps a rest, and tomorrow you can meet your brother…" She looked back to Odin. "You did intend for us to raise him, correct?"
"Only if you wish to. If you do not, I can find another to take him in." Odin nodded to Loki, who was still casually sucking on Frigga's hair. "Though he seems to have taken a liking to you."
"Indeed," Frigga laughed, gently stroking the child's cheek.
She slowly climbed out of bed, careful not to disturb her sleeping husband, and tiptoed over to her younger son's room. Loki was in his crib, clinging to a toy horse, chest slowly rising and falling in rhythm under a thick blanket. She gently ran her fingers through his dark, wispy hair, careful not to wake him, as she let out a quiet sigh of relief. The frost giants had not stolen back their lost prince, now her son and a prince of Asgard.
Loki fidgeted slightly, but quickly relaxed as his mother began stroking his cheek.
"There there, everything is well, my son," she smiled. "You're safe here, home, in Asgard, where you belong."
"They left him to die, Frigga." She glanced over her shoulder to see Odin in the doorway, leaning against the frame. "They likely believe him dead."
"I know, but I still worry," she whispered, slowly running her fingers through his hair once more. "I fear I always will."
Years passed, and Loki grew into a quiet, introspective child. She began to teach him sorcery, and the two quickly discovered he had a natural aptitude for the craft. But the nightmares still came, and Frigga again found herself waking up in a cold sweat and wandering over to her younger son's room. He was still there, clinging to a pillow, with his blankets shoved off to one side. The frost giants had not come to steal him back tonight. She brushed a few stray strands of his dark hair behind his ear before pulling the blankets up to his chin.
Still more years passed, and soon Loki became a handsome and charismatic young man. He and Thor frequently ventured out to the other realms, always returning with an exciting story of their journeys. Loki was almost grown, and had shown time and time again that he could handle himself, but Frigga was still shaken by nightmares that the frost giants had come to take her son away from her. She found him in his room sleeping soundly, clinging to a blanket with one hand and a thick book with the other. She smiled, set the book on Loki's nightstand, and kissed her son gently on his forehead. "You're safe at home, where you were meant to be…"
The night after Loki fell from the Bifrost, she had the nightmare again. Frigga slowly forced herself out of bed, not caring if she woke her husband in the process. It was a habit now, the hesitant shuffle towards Loki's room, but this night, she knew she would find no reassurance. The unmade bed was empty.
She sat down on her younger son's bed, and for the first time since Odin had delivered the news, Queen Frigga of Asgard allowed herself to weep.