Chapter 3:
Frigga's eyes flash, bright with the power of her magic, her beautiful, usually serene features twisting into a snarled, vicious expression.
Odin stands across from her, unflinching and passive, even in the face of her rage.
"You…" she spits, indignation robbing her of articulation, gesturing towards him angrily. "Do you not realize what is… how this has affected him!?"
Odin sighs, his eyes at last casting away from her, roaming over the contents of their bed chamber.
"My wife…" he starts, voice soft and placating.
"You stand there, adopting a posture of calm, a demeanor of contentment, while your son has had to be taken to the healers, again. That is how upset he was Odin. If you had…"
Her hands come to her hair, fingers burying into the golden locks, tugging in impotent frustration, all her collected grace washing away.
And then the anger in her features washes away with it, replaced in an instant by overwhelming grief, crumpled and anguished.
"He could not stop crying Odin." She goes on, her own voice suddenly thick with held back tears. "He could not breathe, he cried so hard. Do you understand? He could not pull air into his lungs. It was as though… it was as though he was suffocating! Oh, if you had seen it…"
She turns from him then, her hand coming up to cover her face, her shoulders trembling.
Odin feels his jaw tighten, his frame growing stiff.
Stupidly, he reaches out a hand, wanting to rest it on her shoulder, to tell her it is alright.
But he hesitates. And then his hand falls away.
It isn't alright.
Offering her such false platitudes will do nothing but upset her further.
"I know not what would have happened, had I not thought to visit him in his rooms." She says, voice think and wavering. "Oh Odin, I was… I was so afraid. I thought he might die. I've never seen him so upset. The sound of him trying to breathe…"
Odin swallows, folding his arms across his chest in an attempt to still the desire to move.
He wants abruptly to be away from this. Do go away and pretend it isn't happening.
"What did Eir say then?" He asks instead, trying to keep the conversation within the realm of reason.
Frigga shakes her head.
"She says it was some manner of… of attack. An attack of panic, she said. Brought on by fear or sadness or some such."
"But what is wrong with the boy?" Odin presses, not understanding. "That he could not breathe."
Frigga turns back to him, wiping at her eyes.
"Nothing." She answers, and she sounds just as confused as Odin feels. "Nothing physical, this time. Eir says it was a physical reaction wrought by emotional distress."
"Emotional distress?" The All-Father questions. "You mean to tell me this attack occurred because the boy was unhappy?"
"So Eir says. But he was not just unhappy, Odin. He was… he seemed almost terrified. As though he thought he had committed some indefensible grievance and surely we would disown him for it. I could hardly understand him, but Odin, what words I could, he… he spoke of being sorry, for disappointing you. For bringing you shame…"
Again, Odin sighs, guilt a sudden, oppressive weight against his chest.
He'd known Loki was upset over what had happened earlier on the training grounds.
But he hadn't thought this. He hadn't realized…
Quickly, guilt turns to frustration.
"Bah! The boy is too sensitive!" He snaps, unthinkingly, the frustration turning to anger. "How does he expect to grow and better himself if he cannot shoulder a bit of criticism? I was only trying to help the child!"
"Odin, you know you cannot speak to him thusly! You know how words affect him!" The Queen says in return, voice pitching louder.
"He needs to be stronger!" Odin yells back. "He is already frail in body, and Asgard does not forgive weakness! We cannot always protect him Frigga!"
"We cannot even protect him now!" She cries, the tears threatening in her eyes finally spilling over. "By the Norns, he is just a child! Why must you expect him to act as a man!? Why do you expect such strength from him!?"
"Thor at his age…" Odin begins, voice booming.
"BUT LOKI IS NOT THOR!" Frigga cuts him off.
Silence settles in the wake of their raised voices, cold and uncomfortable.
Both of their chests heave in the exertion of their anger, gazing back towards each other, helpless and lost.
Finally, Odin feels the tension drain away, out of his frame, his shoulders slumping.
"I know." He says in barely more than a whisper, resigned.
"Then why do you treat him as though he should be?" Frigga shakes her head. "Why do you expect him to be?"
"I do not." Odin denies. "It is only…" frustration again begins to mount in him as he searches for his words. "I know not how to speak to Loki. Thor is so simple by comparison. The boy is so confident, and whatever advice or criticism I have for him, it seems only to bolster that confidence. He sees it as a challenge to overcome. But Loki…"
He shakes his head, dismayed.
"He is like a leaf in winter. He is so brittle. It seems, even when I try to encourage him, it has only the opposite consequence. And he never speaks his mind. He never says how he is feeling. How am I to know how my words affect him, when he will not say?"
"Oh, husband." Frigga shakes her head again. "I do not understand sometimes, how you can be so wise a king, and yet so foolish a father."
"And what would you have me do!?" Odin snaps, agitated. "I am only doing as best I can."
"Then you would do well to remember that of your son as well." She returns.
She turns away then, beginning towards the doors.
Odin watches her go, saying nothing, and he waits when she reaches the threshold, pausing a moment.
"Eir was forced to give Loki a potion to calm him down. He's in the healing rooms now. I encourage you to visit him."
And with that, she is gone, leaving Odin alone with only his thoughts to keep him company.
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AN: Thank you so much again to everyone who's read and/or reviewed this story! The response has been phenomenal! I hope you continue to enjoy, and please let me know your thoughts if you have a chance!