3

"Always My Son"

Frigga winced at the pain in her son's eyes, pain that she knew was a result of not just the torture he had endured, but also the lies that she and Odin had perpetrated for years. In the beginning, it had been done for an infant Loki's safety, but once he was the Prince of Asgard, and old enough to understand, they should have told him the truth. But hiding it became a habit, until the truth had come out in the worst possible fashion, resulting in betrayal and hurt.

She went to sit down in a chair beside the desk, some feet away from him, and replied, "Loki, I have always been proud of you."

He quirked an eyebrow, clearly in disbelief. "Have you? You are proud of the wreck I am?" He gestured again to himself. "I find that hard to believe."

Frigga sighed. "You are not a wreck."

"I am falling apart!" he said harshly. "Let's not hide behind a façade here. Like you did all my life."

"What do you mean?" she asked softly.

"I mean the façade that we were all one big happy family," he sneered. "That was a lie. I am not even of your family. I am the castoff son of your enemy that Odin took in out of pity or some twisted need to use me as a political pawn. And you agreed to it. You are not my mother."

"Not by blood. But I have always loved you, Loki."

He gazed at her, wondering if he dared to believe that. Once he would not have doubted. But that was before Ebony Maw. "If you are proud of me, then why hide the truth all those years?"

She twisted her hands in her lap. "It was not because I was ashamed of you. Of what you were born as. It's complicated."

"Deception usually is," Loki answered softly, but with a bleak edge to his tone.

Frigga sighed. "I deserved that. Your father and I betrayed your trust. But it was not done to hurt you. In the beginning, it was done to protect you. Odin had many enemies, who wouldn't have hesitated to destroy you if they learned whose son you truly were."

"I have been grown long beyond needing my father's protection," Loki refuted. "A thousand years or more. So why wait?"

"When your father placed you in my arms, I told him it did not matter if you were Laufey's son. Because he had given you up, and did not deserve you. From then on, you were my son, the same as Thor, even though I did not bear you. I cautioned your father against waiting too long to tell you the truth, but he thought it best to wait until all his enemies were dead or neutralized. He made me promise to keep it a secret until he decided the time was right."

"When was that? Never?"

He could not keep the bitterness from his tone, it leaked out despite the numbness enfolding him like a cloak.

"We became . . .complacent after so long," she replied regretfully. "Believing that things should just go on as they were, and the tangled web we wove would never need to be broken. But we should have known better. Eventually all secrets will be revealed, intentionally or not, one way or another. So we waited, long past the time when we should have told you the truth, and the Norns took matters into their own hands."

Loki shook his head. "But there is more to this than simply not telling me I was adopted. Father made sure to teach me and Thor as boys that our enemies were Jotun-and I am Jotun! How could he do such a thing? He made me believe I was a monster and evil!" His voice rose, slipping his control. "Why do you think I let go? Because I could not stand to know that I was nothing more than a monster!'

His voice was a hoarse rasp of pain so deep it made his soul bleed.

"No!" Frigga cried. "Don't say such a thing. I never believed you were a monster! Never! You were always my son!" She silently cursed Odin for telling her impressionable sons the old tales of war and violence. "Your father made peace with the Jotun eventually. Because we were all tired of the endless slaughter and blood."

Loki gazed at her, and felt a flicker of hope within his chest. But it was fragile, like the gossamer wings of a butterfly in a windstorm. "You say you did not believe. . . but what of Father? He stole me like he did the Cask of Ancient Winters, another relic to use as he saw fit."

"No, he never thought of you as a monster. Or a pawn or a relic. You were an innocent."

"But he killed Jotun children and infants before. Why stop with me?!"

She heard the venom and pain his voice and she desperately wanted to get off the chair and hold him. But she hesitated.

"When he was in battle, he used his magic to kill the Jotun from a distance. He never looked them in the eye. It was only when he saw you... A small, frightened babe... It softened his warrior heart. He couldn't bring himself to slaughter someone so innocent."

Loki felt the flicker of hope grow a little stronger, but he still wasn't convinced. Maw had driven it into him that Odin only wanted him as a puppet. A tool to be used later on.

"It is hard to believe what you say when I know from experience that he only cared for Thor. Never mind he was the heir and crown prince. He praised everything Thor did! Where was my praise!?"

His voice was cracking again as the flicker of hope grew smaller and he wanted to smash something.

"He did praise you," Frigga said, fighting the urge to hold him. She sensed he would not permit her to touch him right then.

"When!? When did he ever praise me!?"

The pain was rising to the point where he couldn't stand it another second and Frigga noticed the agonized look in his eyes. She had never seen Loki look that way, and it tore her to pieces.

Unwanted. Disgraced. No one ever loved you. Maw's voice in his head, whispering words that poisoned his vulnerable spirit.

"Loki, what's is the matter?" she asked, finally rising from the chair. She had noticed the air in the room was becoming ice cold and frost had formed on the windowpanes and mirrors.

She never loved you.

"Loki, please, talk to me."

She never wanted you.

He did not respond, his eyes gone flat and empty.

"Loki, you are beginning to frighten me."

She wants to kill you.

"No!" Loki shouted as his skin became blue and his eyes turned blood red. "Leave me alone!"

Suddenly, the guards burst into the room. Frigga turned and Loki placed his head in his hands.

"My queen, you must leave! He might harm you!" one of the guards shouted and she saw they had their weapons drawn.

"My son would not hurt me," she replied.

"I knew Odin should have killed him!" the other guard said, softly, but Frigga had heard him.

"Get out!" Frigga said, glaring at the guard. "And you are dismissed!"

Loki shivered and muttered. "Get out of my head . . .get out . . .!"

"My Queen. We need to go!" the guard pleaded.

Frigga carefully moved toward her youngest son as Loki rocked back and forth and she wondered what to do. She was sure he needed her, but the idea of him accidentally harming himself or her also filled her mind.

"Loki?" she called in a soft voice, praying to the Norns he could hear her. "Loki, it's alright. You're safe. Whatever you are seeing or hearing isn't real. Please. Please return to me."

The prince whimpered in pain. "Stay out of my head, you bastard spawn of Thanos. Stay . . . out!" he snarled, and with a tremendous effort he shoved Maw's voice away and opened his eyes, squinting at the bright light.

He now had a pounding headache, but Maw's voice had ceased to whisper. He pulled back his frost magic and the room returned to its normal temperature. "I . . .I didn't mean to . . .sorry . . ." he began, and a wave of exhaustion crashed over him.

He slumped over in the window seat, and a moment later was sound asleep.

Frigga gave a sigh of relief that her spell had worked. If Loki had not been caught off guard, she might not have been able to send him to sleep, for the student had outstripped his teacher years before. In fact, Frigga knew of only one other person who had her, and that one was her younger sister, long dead.

She turned to see Ravn and the remaining guard, Eirik, behind her. "Help me put him to bed," she ordered.

As the two men did as she had ordered, she waved a hand and swapped out Loki's clothes for soft pajamas. Then she tucked the covers around her son. "Ravn, I want you to call me when he wakes."

"Yes, My Queen."

"Furthermore, you are not to gossip about what happened here today. I will, however, tell you this. Prince Loki was kidnapped by some of the most evil beings in the realms and interrogated and put under coercion by them when he refused to tell them where some powerful objects were hidden. That is why he is like this. But I want no gossip. You are to speak of this only to stop rumors of the wrong kind from spreading. Am I understood?"

"Yes, My Queen." They bowed to her.

"I will pray for him to know peace," Eirik said. "Knew a few of my friends who came back from the Muspelheim War like that," he said sympathetically.

Then Frigga departed, and went looking for Odin. She found him in his study, going over some correspondences with his Chief Secretary. He looked up as his wife entered. "Frigga, how is Loki?"

She looked upset. "He is not well, Odin. I need to speak to you in private."

Odin nodded and dismissed his secretary. Then he activated the privacy wards about the study so no one could eavesdrop. "Darling, what has happened?"

"Loki had . . . he had an . . . episode of some kind . . . like a waking nightmare . . ." she explained what had gone on. "Odin, I was lucky that I could put him to sleep this time. We need to get help for him now."

"I shall write to Lady Viva and send Muninn at once," Odin reassured her. "If she agrees to come, then I shall tell Loki."

"I just hope he will accept her help." Frigga murmured. "If those beasts weren't already dead, I would wring their necks!"

Odin patted her hand. "And I would let you!"

"Let me? I would like to see you stop me," she snorted.

Her husband laughed. "I would not dare." Then he took out a pen and began to write.

Viva's house:

The raven circled over the neat house carved of blue stone that sat at the end of Whistle Street. In the front yard was a flowering pink yarwood tree, whose blossoms carpeted the thick grass. Rosebushes and hollyhocks framed the front walk and on the porch was a white walnut rocker with an embroidered green and blue cushion on it. Upon the cushion was a large fluffy gray and white cat with deep blue eyes. Underneath the rocker was another cat, younger, gold and white, with emerald eyes.

The gray and white cat yawned and stretched, watching as the large raven landed in the yarwood tree. Muninn cawed at the feline, then took wing again and flew in through a window.

Once inside the house, the raven noted this was a parlor, with comfortable blue couches made of a kind of material known as whisperfoam, which cradled the person sitting on it, and made them feel as if they were weightless and sitting on a cloud. There were tall lamps with flower petal globes and a thick rug with many patterns was in front of the fireplace. The fire crackled in the grate, filling the room with the aroma of applewood. Behind the couches was a vast bookshelf filled with many volumes. Ensconced on the couch, with a knitted afghan thrown over her knees, was a young woman reading a book.

She wore a simple aqua tunic and cream-colored pants, her feet were under the blanket. She had dark hair cut short that framed her pixie-like face, which was dominated by large expressive eyes, one blue one and one green one. The book was propped up on her knees, and she absently ate a handful of peanuts and tiny chocolate drops from a bowl as she read.

"Greetings, Lady Viva!" Muninn cawed as he landed gently on the back of the couch, the missive from the king tied to a cylinder on his leg.

Viva jerked up, startled, and almost spilled her bowl of nuts and chocolate on the rug. "By the Nine! It's the king's raven!"

Muninn bobbed his head. "Hello, pretty lady!" he cooed, extending his head for her to scratch his crest.

Viva's pale fingers obligingly rubbed the bird, and Muninn made a sort of happy chirruping noise. "Do you have a letter for me?" she asked softly.

"Of course!" Muninn held out his leg so she could remove the tube and opened it.

The rolled piece of parchment fell into Viva's lap. She carefully unfolded it and began to read, noting the royal seal at the bottom.

Salutations Lady Vivienne of Scarpsey,

I write to you to request your services as a Mind Healer for my youngest son, Prince Loki. Recently, the prince fell victim to a band of thugs and villains known as the Black Order. While he was their prisoner, my son was compelled to do heinous things by the will of their leader, the Mad Titan Thanos.

Viva gasped, going pale. There was no one who had not heard of Thanos and his Black Order, whose very names struck terror into the people of the realms. "Norns have mercy! Poor Loki!" she murmured. Then she continued to read.

. . .suffering from nightmares, both waking and sleeping, loss of appetite, fatigue, and whatever was done to him has caused him to lose control over his frost magic. It is my hope that you can help heal him, as you have done General Tyr and others who suffered as he has.

If you are willing to take his case, please send word back with Muninn. I will have rooms prepared at the palace for you, and will give you whatever you require to make my son well again. You may name your fee, nothing is too high to pay for my son's recovery.

You have a most impressive reputation, and the queen assures me that you are the best trauma therapist in Asgard.

I await your reply.

Regards,

Odin, King of the Nine

Viva almost fell off the couch. The king wanted her to treat Prince Loki? She was shocked, for she had not thought her reputation preceded her that much. Still, she would not refuse. Not only was this a request from her king, but she would never turn away someone in need. Especially not when that someone was Prince Loki.

"Well?" Muninn queried.

"Tell My King that I will see him tomorrow morning," she told Muninn. "I just need tonight to pack and bring my cats with me."

"Very good, pretty lady!" the raven purred. "I shall tell my master so!"

After one last scratch, Muninn flew out the window again, leaving Viva alone to figure out what she would need in the way of clothes, herbs, books, and other paraphernalia to treat Loki.

As she packed a trunk with books, her cats strolled in from outside and wound about her ankles, purring loudly.

"Hello, darlings!" she laughed, kneeling to pet them. "Kiva, guess what?" she asked the gray cat, who was the mother of the younger one. "We are going on a royal adventure. And you too, Little One." She stroked the kitten, whom she had called that because the kitten used to be tiny, but had since grown into a good sized forest cat. "I just hope the queen's faith in my skills is not misplaced." She stood up. "Still, nothing ventured, nothing gained, as the mortals say."

Then she padded barefoot into the bedroom, to pick out clothing, hoping her embroidered skirts, tunics, and pants would past muster at court. Then she chuckled at her own vanity. You are not going to the palace to play with the courtiers, Viva, but there to work and Heal the prince, who is in sore need of it. She had a feeling this case was going to require all of her skills and then some. But she would not fail. She would Heal Loki, no matter how long it took.