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VVVVV

FOUR

"A father may turn his back on his child,

brothers and sisters may become inveterate enemies,

husbands may desert their wives,

wives their husbands.

But a mother's love

endures through all."

~Washington Irving

Frigg leaned her elbows on the stone railing of the balcony attached to her chambers, tilted her face upward, closed her eyes and basked in the glow of the afternoon sunlight. The birds were having a heyday down in the lush maze of walled gardens below, the warm breeze just whispered, and the sky was as bright as Odin's gaze. She had finished her work for the day, had bathed and washed her hair, and she was now dressed in her most comfortable gown, determined to do nothing more now than relax and read.

Her chamber door opened. Then, it slammed shut. Her eyes came open and she frowned—

And glass smashed violently.

She whirled around, her heart hammering.

Loki's tall, lean form stormed in, wearing his finest, deep purple tunic, trousers and long coat that she had given him for his birthday—the last birthday he would have before he came of age. Frigg's eyes flew to the black vase on a table across the room from him, which now lay shattered, the water and windflower anemones spilled everywhere. Her mind spun—and then she realized he had hurled magic at it in a wild, uncontrolled rage.

"Alskling?" she gasped, stepping out of the sunshine and into her room. Loki paced back and forth, not looking at her, then raked his hands through his midnight hair.

"What's wrong?" she cried.

Loki spun around, so she could not see him, and suddenly stopped. She halted where she was, watching him.

For a long while, both were silent, and she could hear his unsteady breathing. Finally, he put his hand out and rested it on her vanity. He kept his back to her.

"I waited for several hours," he said, his voice low and rough. "Waited for him to finish an audience, then waited until I was admitted by the guard."

Frigg stepped nearer, listening. Loki began rubbing his forefinger back and forth on the smooth wood.

"I went into the throne room," he continued. "And came up next to him. He had papers in his lap. He told me he was busy. I told him it would only take a moment—and I showed him what I could do."

"You did?" Frigg reflexively smiled. "Finally?"

Loki nodded.

"I conjured that goblet for him—the one you told me he would recognize as your wedding cup. Then, I vanished it again. He told me that was impressive." His head lowered. She heard him swallow. "I offered him my services in the future, should he ever need the security of having something really hidden…" He paused again, this time for a very long while. And then, when he continued, his voice was barely under control. "And then Thor came in—just barged in—and told Father that Mjollnir had flown back to his hand, and he had to come see."

Frigg frowned sharply. Loki turned a little, so she could see his profile. His eyes stayed lowered.

"He got up," Loki murmured. "Got right up, and followed Thor, completely excited." Loki flicked a knick-knack on Frigg's vanity—it fell over with a clack. "Much more excited than he was about my little trick."

"Oh," Frigg said, letting out a shuddering sigh, suddenly at a loss. "I'm…I'm so sorry, alskling." She straightened, and stepped toward him again. "But you have to know that your father loves you, and does appreciate yourgifts." She stretched out her hand to touch his shoulder.

He twitched away from her.

"That isn't true," he hissed, with such sudden venom as made her go pale.

"He loves Thor," Loki snarled, still not facing her. "And he dotes on Balder. I'm just the middle son—the inconvenience. Taking up space at the table." His voice lowered to a deadly tone. "He has no more regard for me than he does a servant."

"No!" Frigg cried, unable to bear it anymore—and enraged at his thinking. "That is a wicked thought—a lie, and you must not say things like that. Loki, look at me. You must not—" She reached out and grabbed his arm, and turned him toward her. "You must not…"

He faced her. She stopped…

And saw that tears streamed down his face.

"Oh, alskling!" she said, instantly softening, stepping close to him and reaching up to cradle his face in her hands. Loki shuddered, and lowered his eyes and would not look at her. She firmly wiped away his tears with her thumbs. His brow twisted, those hard tension lines forming between his eyebrows. He swallowed convulsively, fighting tears.

"Loki, listen to me. I know he may not always show it," Frigg murmured ardently, holding him still. "And sometimes he is not the most tactful or considerate—but your father loves you. He loves you greatly, as he loves Thor and Balder and me. There is nothing he would not do for any member of his family. You must believe this."

Loki nodded, squeezing his eyes shut and gasping, more tears falling. She quickly swiped them away.

"Oh, my dearest," she breathed, shaking her head. "I'm sorry."

For a moment, they just stood there as Loki fought to compose himself. Frigg dropped her hands to his shoulders, and straightened his collar, then patted his broad chest.

"When did you get so big?" she wondered gently. "I remember when you came up to my hip, and no higher. I think…Yes, at the moment, you are taller than Thor. That will dismay him."

Loki let out an accidental, watery laugh, and Frigg smiled up at him. Finally, he looked at her—and she saw some of the light gleaming again in his emerald eyes. But then, his face regained its gravity, and he glanced to his right.

"I…I'm sorry," he whispered. "I broke your vase."

Frigg patted his cheek.

"Never mind that," she said. "Plenty more where it came from." She reached down, took his arm, and wrapped hers around it, then started walking with him toward the door. "Come with me. There are some beautiful blooming cranberry branches in your garden, and I need a new bouquet."

"Why do you need me to come?" Loki asked, wiping his face with his sleeve.

Frigg paused and glanced him up and down.

"Right now, you're the tallest man in Asgard," she said. "And you don't expect me to reach those branches, do you?"

Loki smiled again, more easily this time, and together they left her chambers, and the mess of windflowers Loki had made, behind them.

"Life is the fruit she longs to hand you,
Ripe on a plate.
And while you live,
Relentlessly she understands you."

~Phyllis McGinley

TO BE CONTINUED

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