Chapter 3: Frigga's Spell

Quick update before Christmas! I'm finally done with all my exams (don't want to talk about them) but at least I'm free! :D

So here's a new chapter before my holiday plans take over. Thank you so much for being patient. Enjoy!


"Thank you, Heimdall," the queen turns to the guardian with an enigmatic smile—chin leveled, back straight, and hands folded neatly below her bosom. But something about it doesn't feel right to Steve—as if underneath the elegance, the regality, hides a nervous tick.

"But the Captain must have plenty more questions left unanswered," Frigga continues, "And perhaps, it would be best that we proceed in a more comfortable setting."

Heimdall responds with a single nod, and before Steve can fully comprehend what is happening, the queen places a delicate hand to his shoulder, her touch so gentle he could barely feel it there. And suddenly, the floor beneath him vanishes once more.

And after regaining some form of self-awareness, Steve dares to open his eyes and examine completely new environment around him—curving arches, woven rugs, floor to ceiling bookshelves interspersed by columns of marble and gold. A study room, it seems, although vastly more extravagant than any Steve had ever known. And he supposes Frigga wanted to attract as little attention as possible, bringing them here.

Two servant girls—with flowing blond hair and matching white robes—appear with silver trays of cakes and tea, placing them on the lone mahogany table in the middle of the room—expertly crafted with matching chairs.

Steve can only assume they are inside the palace. Had they walked, he could've at least memorized the path and turns to return to Heimdall's observatory, but then again, considering the Asgardians had pretty much plucked him off the face of the Earth, he probably won't be going anywhere without the approval of the hosts. The soldier is by no means comfortable with this situation, but at least, it's Frigga whom he has to confront—Loki's mother, Thor's mother—and she doesn't seem unkind, at least.

"Please, Captain, make yourself comfortable." Frigga gestures as one of servant girl pulls out the chair for the queen to sit in. And Steve maneuvers to his chair before the other girl can do the same for him, and tells her that it's quite all right. Both girls bow before Frigga dismisses them with a wave of her regal hand.

Steve watches the hostess warily. A brief stretch of silence passes, as the queen takes a sip of tea, before speaking, "You do have questions, do you not?" She sets her cup down with a quiet clink against matching china.

"Yes, I—Yes." Steve feels clumsy, not really sure what to do with his hands. And he doubts he can actually stomach anything after being ripped through the distort of the Bifrost.

"Then, by all means, ask them." The queen smiles encouragingly. "I certainly have nothing to hide."

"Right." Steve nods, before taking a moment to assess his options. His mind is overflowing with questions—about Loki, about Thanos—but nonetheless, first and foremost, he decides to ask, "How are your injuries, Ma'am?"

"They are nothing to worry about, and I am well at this moment," Frigga smiles with all her teeth. "You are very kind to ask."

"I—" Steve ducks his head and blushes, never one to take compliments gracefully. "What about Asgard? How are your people since the attack?"

"Fortunately, there were few casualties to our public, considering the circumstances and our vulnerability. Asgard is still recovering from the damage, but we are progressing at a promising rate. The Bifrost is fully operable now, which is why we were able to summon you."

"Right," Steve nods, searching his hostess for any hint of doubt, but the queen remains resolute, "And what about Thor? How is he? Where is he?"

"The crown belongs to Thor until the All-father wakens from Odinsleep—Are you aware of this condition, the state of Odinsleep?"

"I think so," Steve says, "From what Loki told me, at least."

Frigga's eyes shine of sadness at the mention of her son's name, but she opts to elaborate nonetheless, to make sure Steve fully comprehends the gravity of their situation. "Once every year, the All-father succumbs to his fatigue, leaving him vulnerable and his realm without a king. Because of the circumstances prior to his sleep—the unexpected invasion and strain on his body—we cannot predict how long he will remain asleep, this ime. But until Odin wakes, Thor is our king, who will lead our armies and protect our realm from the threat of Thanos. He has been occupied with Asgardian affairs, and he knows not of your presence here. Summoning you was my decision, and mine alone."

"Are you going to tell him that I'm here?"

"Eventually, yes," the queen easily responds, "Once we formulate a solid plan in retrieving his brother. I do not want him to needlessly worry, or jump at the opportunity to go himself."

"Do you know where he is?" Steve shifts in his seat, feeling the weight of the queen's gaze. "Loki, that is."

"In the outskirts of Muspelheim, land of the demons, and ruled by the fire lord Surtur."

"I thought Loki has the ability to shield himself from detection."

"He is not the only sorcerer with boundless potential," Frigga smiles with a hint of pride, "Heimdall has adapted to Loki's trickeries and wiles, and he can track Loki—where ever he might be—at least, within the boundaries of the Nine Realms. But as long as Loki shrouds himself in magic, we cannot retrieve him using the Bifrost. Our only option is to send someone to him, who can reason with him, but we must be wise with our choice. Once we reveal ourselves—and should we fail to convince him to come home—it will not take long before Loki adjust his defenses, so that he is hidden from us once more.

"So you want me to go?" Steve asks carefully, digesting the abundance of information.

"Yes."

"But why?"

"I trust that you can reason with him."

Steve remains unconvinced—at least in his own abilities to fulfill the expectations trusted upon him—but he is unsure of how to express such doubts without seeming rude.

"We could not have retrieved him earlier,"Frigga continues, perhaps sensing the soldier's hesitation, "When he had been on Midgard—his magic bound—because the Bifrost had been in repair. Heimdall was gravely wounded during the invasion, but it did not take long for him to regain his sight and hearing. We could see Loki, but we could not do anything to help him, much like now. We know—for the most part—everything that had occurred during his time on Midgard."

Steve flushes a deep red at the queen's gentle revelation. Surely, she must be aware of the kiss, and how Steve had rejected Loki's advances afterwards—whether regrettably or not, he is still not entirely sure.

"Did you ever wonder why the spell, which bound Loki's magic, was broken precisely in that moment?" Frigga thins her lips, her voice almost playful.

"I just assumed because—" Steve takes an educated guess, "—from Thor's experience, at least—that Loki proved himself worthy somehow, to break Odin's curse, for wanting to protect out planet and people."

Frigga looks at Steve, eyes glinting of guiles and mystery. "The magic in those chains are not Odin's curse, but mine." Her ruby lips curve to a satisfied smile. "And it was not Loki who broke the curse, but you, Captain."

"I—What?"

His consternation must've been evident on his face, prompting the queen to laugh. "You may recall, that we had asked the heroes of Midgard to purge Loki's name from the pages of history."

"Yes."

"Because we wished to banish him there in a hundred year's time."

Steve nods, and does a poor job of hiding his dismay, despite his efforts.

"We meant no insult in our secrecy," Frigga explains modestly, her expression probably as apologetic as any member of the royal family can produce, "It was an immensely controversial decision that went against several Asgardian codes and traditions. And Odin and I—we had much queries to settle within the gates of Asgard, that we simply hadn't the opportunity to negotiate with Midgard during this short lapse time. Please believe my word, Captain, that we never had the intention of carrying out Loki's banishment in secrecy, without the consent of your people."

Steve sighs, schooling his expression and willing to give the queen the benefit of the doubt. Frigga smiles in semi-relief, before continuing.

"Midgard has our respect and gratitude, not only in the physical prowess of your warriors, which brought the Chitauri to their knees, but also in the lessons in kindness and compassion, that you have offered to both my boys. Jane Foster, a college of yours, I presume—"

Steve affirms with a nod.

"—Jane Foster has done for Thor what life on Asgard—along with our various lessons in kingship and ruling—could not. And I am infinitely grateful towards her. All I wish for is the same for Loki during his time on Midgard, which is the reason behind our decision to banish him in a hundred's year time, his magic bound by—of course, much more figurative chains. And he was to live his life as a mortal, until he has found someone like whom Jane Foster had been to Thor."

"You can't mean me." Steve blurts out without meaning to, and quickly excuses himself. "I'm sorry—I still don't understand because I—We're not exactly—"

"Do you love my son?"

"No!" Steve cries out, mortified at the impossible question. "I mean—its not something I can honestly say yes to, or even answer after only—such a short period of time—I just—"

"But you were willing to risk your life for him. To die for him." The queen furrows her elegant brows, and Steve swallows thickly.

"Because I'm a soldier. And he's an ally—a friend."

"I see," Frigga accepts with a hint of disappointment, "But he was willing to die for you too, and he certainly is not a soldier."

"I suppose." Steve ducks his head and flushes. He doubts Loki would appreciate this conversation, if he were to find out, but surely, the soldier is feeling the full force of secondhand embarrassment.

"And these were the conditions of my spell," Frigga continues, "Broken in a mutual act of self-sacrifice, of love. Do you think it is possible that you may love my son, Captain?"

"I—uh—" Steve swears, in that moment, he had forgotten how to formulate actual words. He fights the urge to tug at the collar of his shirt, and Frigga, sensing his dismay, brings a hand to her lips to muffle a laugh.

"I probably should not ask such personal questions, my dear Captain. I sincerely apologize for my rudeness."

Steve nods, keeping his eyes resolutely fixed on his folded hands.

"Loki, he is not a poor son. And neither is Odin, a poor father." Frigga speaks once more, but this time her voice resonates with such sadness, that Steve risks a glance at the Aesir queen, despite the rush of blood still coloring his cheeks.

"They have a lot in common, as all father and sons do—pride, ambition, and an immaculate temper, which we all know too well. And they say things they don't mean—hurtful, harmful things—to each other. They both deem compromise as weakness."

Frigga sighs, gentle fingers tracing the rim of her teacup. Steve watches her with a mixture of sympathy and doubt.

"On my behalf, Odin has allowed Loki to live," the queen continues, "Or at least, that is what he will say when confronted. But I have never doubted his love for Loki—underneath the anger, the pride, and the betrayal. Odin is simply at loss to what he should do. He is very much in the same situation as Loki. So I took it upon my responsibility to do what is best for my family, my son. To decide not only on a suitable punishment for Loki's crimes, but also a chance for redemption, because he alone is not at fault for this tragedy you are well aware of now, my Captain. And I cannot stand by and watch Loki suffer, for the consequences of our combined failure."

Steve nods slowly, realizing that Frigga is probably the most normal member of this powerful family, or at least, to his Midgardian standards.

"We have tracked Loki to the outskirts of Muspelheim, although we cannot pinpoint his exact location due to the precautions he had taken. But we can send you in that general direction, and we will, of course, offer you as much protection as we can offer. You needn't stay at Muspelheim for long, only until you have managed in convincing Loki to take down his shields. And Heimdall will return you both to Asgard immediately. Although, I am well aware of the difficulties in appealing to Loki's senses."

"He still thinks you died during the invasion," Steve notes, suddenly recalling, "That's why he ran off in the first place."

"Yes," Frigga solemnly agrees.

"He won't believe me if I simply told him that you're still alive."

"This is a minor inconvenience, and you need not worry about it," the queen smiles in reassurance, "I will provide a solution when the time comes. But do you consent to our plans, Captain?"

"I'll need to get some stuff, though." Steve muses as he rubs at the back of his neck.

###

Steve wonders this awful feeling, the impulse to empty all the contents of his stomach, will eventually fade with time and repetition. He taps his foot twice on the concrete surface, just to make sure that he is indeed standing on the rooftop of Avengers Tower. He glances at his right to find Hawkeye, perched on the ledge a few yards away—eyes wide and jaw agape—his astounded expression almost humorous.

"Wh—How?" Clint blinks twice, looking around fervently and failing to find any other witnesses. "Holy shit, Cap! How the hell did you do that? Where the hell were you?"

"Um," Steve offers the archer a lip-sided smile, "Asgard. Would you believe that?"


Thanks for reading! Reviews are motivation and love. Until next time! :D

Stefan's girl: I guess I did update before Christmas, but I cut it pretty close! Haha, I hope I touched upon some of your questions with this chapter!