Frigga entered the receiving hall, anger surging the moment she saw Odin in his throne, as if nothing had happened. Odin was conducting ordinary business, as if Loki had not been hours with Eir, while his mother and brother waited anxiously.
She wished for the power to put the thought in his head: You should be with your son.
He didn't hear it, but he knew her moods well enough to bring the audience to an end and remove to the scriptorium next door.
He dismissed the record-keepers to have privacy and seated himself at the great table, gesturing her to the nearer chair. "Be comfortable and speak. This is of Loki, I presume?"
She sat, perched on the edge, too anxious to be comfortable. "I shall not stay long. And yes, of course I will speak of him, as you have not visited him."
His eye flicked down, not meeting hers. "The business of the Realms is of more urgency than-"
"Your son?"
"- than a criminal," he finished, now glaring at her. "Or a madman, who sought the destruction of two Realms."
Her jaw tightened. "Who is still your son. And he lies near death in Eir's care."
Odin hesitated, but because he didn't wish to speak, she knew. He had already decided. He straightened in his chair and brought Gungnir closer. "So the vengeance of Midgard takes its course," he declared finally. "He attacked them and pays the price. The healers will withdraw their assistance."
Frigga stared at him, astounded and horrified. "But … he surely shall perish without it."
"For his crimes he would deserve execution. This is a more fitting end."
Her heart was leaden in her chest as she searched for words, but found none at first. She rose to her feet, hands curled on the top of the table, as her heart beat in sudden anxious rhythm. She had feared that Loki might slip away because of his injuries or his own will; she had not thought to fear her own husband's decisions.
"No. It is not right," she protested.
"You think as a mother-" he began, with infuriating condescension, and she would not – could not – understand how he was saying any of this.
"As you should as a father!" She pointed in the direction of the healer's chambers, fingers shaking. "Your son lies in there, in shattered pieces, in a coma from which he may never awaken, and that is not enough? You want his death, too?
"I am the king!"
She raised her voice above his angry bellow. "You acted as a father, for a thousand years, while Thor was reckless and did as he willed all across the Nine. The king did nothing." She clenched a jaw, waiting, and when she saw no softening in his visage, she reached for the last arrow in her quiver and launched it. "You acted as a father and preserved the life of another of your blood who did far worse."
He recoiled in his seat, as her rhetorical arrow struck, and his hand tightened on Gungnir as if for a moment he considered wielding it to defend himself. Another time she would regret the strike, but she would not show mercy to him now, when he had no use for it himself. "Yet now, when Loki needs you the most, when he is back with us from unknown trials, and when we might heal his mind and heart, you wish him dead." A worse thought struck that this was not the first time. "Is that why you would not save him at the Bifrost? Did you want his death even then?" she accused bitterly. "Why did you not let him die on Jotunheim if you will not care now?"
He didn't react to her harsh accusation, and it made her more angry. Feeling her blood heat inside her skin, so intent was her rage, she paused and looked into his face, promising in a low voice, "If you murder my helpless son, I will live as the lowliest beggar in all the Nine before I endure the sight of you again." She pulled off her marriage band and threw it to the table. It landed with a metallic clang and rolled a little ways before falling to a stop right before him. She was pleased to see him flinch, finally, as he realized he would not get his way without consequence. Her voice was tight. "If your heart has grown so cold, you have no need of a queen or wife."
She turned on her heel to head for the doors.
"Frigga, do not turn your back on me…" he growled, a low warning rumble as if she should be afraid now.
Looking back at him, she retorted, "Or what? You will forget you have a wife as quickly as you have forgotten you have another son? Or you will bury us as you did your daughter? If you remember we exist, I will be at Loki's side and ensure Eir does not obey your foul judgment. If you want him dead, you will have to do it yourself."
His fingers groped for the ring, but she didn't want to wait and see what he would do with it. She didn't want to look at him anymore.
She whirled back around and left, hurrying back to the healer's chamber where Loki lay within the energy cocoon.
Thor stood beside Loki and he turned his head to see her come in. He shook his head a little. "There has been no change."
She glanced at the readout above the head of the bed to see for herself. He was so quiet. His heart was slow, breathing barely measureable, and even the depressed signals of the brain itself seemed barely there. It would take so little to stop all of it.
He floated within the energy field, touching nothing of the bed beneath him, held still to keep all aligned to heal properly. His skin was marred with wounds and bruises, raw and discolored in places. He'd always been lean, but now seemed mere skin and broken bones.
It came to her that he would dislike being displayed in such a way. He always took care with his appearance, choosing his clothes with care to look strong and in control. He would hate everyone being able to see him naked and vulnerable as a babe, his injuries in full view.
But of course he was unaware, and she could do nothing about it for him until Eir allowed him a bed.
If- if it was the end, Frigga resolved to spread a sheet over him, so others would only see his face, pale but little touched by the attack.
She thought of the energy cocoon shut off and the suppression of his pain withdrawn, and she had to dig her nails into her palms to keep control. She would not allow weakness, not now, not when Loki needed her most.
Thor was more perceptive than he once had been and frowned at her in concern. "You are upset by something, Mother. Something more than Loki's condition."
She inhaled a deep breath. "Your father – your father intends to tell the healers to withdraw their support and let your brother die. To – to punish him."
"What?" Thor asked, in shock and disbelief. "No, he can't."
"He can, Thor. I... I have threatened to divorce him if he goes through with it, but I – I can do little more than that. If he truly intends to enforce his decision..." Her voice faded on the words, and she pushed her fingers through the field to touch the back of Loki's hand and caress it gently. His skin was so cold…. He was not blue, but he might as well be. Or dead.
She closed her eyes, holding her lip between her teeth as she forced herself to take a normal breath.
"No, I will not allow it," Thor declared staunchly. "We can – we will take him somewhere else. Far away."
"He would not survive the journey," she told him, her own voice turned to sand in her throat, yet her eyes were wet as she stared at Loki, looking not just at his broken body, but the soul within. "You cannot see it, my son. But his life hangs by the slimmest of threads, shines with the dimmest of embers. He will not fight, letting the current take him where it wills. Perhaps," her voice was a ghost now. "Perhaps the king is right, but for the wrong reasons. Perhaps we should... let him go."
Thor's voice was appalled. "Mother!"
"What is there for him? Truly?" she asked. "I had hoped, if he came home, to show him he remains part of our family and thereby bring him back to us. And now..." she shook her head, unable to find her voice for a moment, as tears pricked her eyes with heat again. Thor put a hand on her shoulder and she turned, leaned into him. "Now I know Loki saw more clearly than I. That he is no son to Odin, that there will be no mercy for him... Even if he wakes, he's lost to us... He will never – my little- my little-"
Her voice choked in her throat as Thor's arms went around her. "Mother..."
She rested her head against his shoulder as the tears flowed under her eyelids and down her cheeks, and she gasped for breath, feeling as riven to the soul as she had that moment Odin had told her that Loki had fallen from the Bifrost. Except then at least she'd had a little hope that she might find him; but now, she could look right at him, body shattered and mind wandering far afield in shadowy places, and she knew he was doomed.
"Mother, we will not give up," Thor murmured, stroking her hair. "I have to believe there's a way to bring him back to us. Whatever madness seized him, we can help him. And if I have to fight Father to stop him, I will, this I swear."
She sniffed and inhaled a deeper breath, raising her head to wipe her cheeks. "I could not bear it if you two fought, Thor."
He glanced at the quiescent form wrapped in its glowing cocoon and did not take back his oath. "I did not lift Loki out of a pool of his own blood and carry him home to watch him die now." He kissed her forehead. "Keep him safe. I will take care of this."
As he left, he held out a hand to bring Mjolnir to him, and she bit her lip to keep from calling after him. Heart in her throat, she looked back to Loki, praying Thor might talk sense into his father without further grief.
EDIT: I stopped uploading to this site. You may find the rest of this story at AO3: (slash) works/13026732 (or the link is in my profile)
