Odin came out to meet her on his black stallion.
He was alone.
His armor – what little he wore – flashed golden in the sunlight.
Thor ran to him and met him as he swung from his great horse. He jumped and laughed as Odin swept him from his feet. Boisterous little thing that he was, Thor tried to tell his father everything all in one chattering breath.
Setting the excited boy down, Odin went to where Frigga was just alighting from the cart, the little one nestled, sleeping, against her breast.
Watching the sleeping child, Odin had stopped before her and he drew breath as though to speak.
She spoke before he could, tipping her chin up. "His name is Loki," she told him.
Odin's eye moved from the child's face, to hers. And for one moment, he watched her levelly.
"A fine name," he decided.
He leaned inward as though in caress, putting his free hand about her shoulders. He murmured, "Am I forgiven, then?"
He brushed her cheek with a kiss as he drew gently back.
Thor was chattering, dancing around the patient horse's great hooves.
Frigga returned his look, saying in a tone to match his own, "Do you feel remorse?" and she felt herself smile, just a bit.
His eye searched her, then faltered in what would have been a cunning show of regret if she did not believe it felt, "For the insult my action offered my queen?" he met her eyes again, "Yes."
And she believed him. She felt a smile tug at her mouth and she let it come. "Then for that, AllFather, you are forgiven."
She kissed him then, and allowed him to lead her back into the palace, listening to him as he told her all that had transpired while she was away, scolding Thor to come along and for heaven's sake to let the dog be!
The naming ceremony was held several days later, and their second son was officially welcomed into the royal family of Asgard as Thor and Odin and his father had all been before him. Officially given their name and announced a part of their great lineage. And she had felt it right.
Word had spread that she had conceived the child in one of Odin's sporadic visits during the war. And that the regency had taken such a toll on her that she had felt it necessary to go away for a while to ready for the birth of the child. Everyone knew of the difficulty Thor's coming had caused her, how nearly she had been brushed by Death, and none questioned the validity of the tale. That she'd chosen to stay in her Sea Palace through the younger prince's birth and her recovery came as no surprise to them.
She let the tales spread. He was hers, was he not? Let them talk as they would.
She remembered, years later, taking him into the nursery that night, after the ceremony, laying him in the cradle where only months before it had seemed absolute sacrilege to place him. Intending to leave as quickly as she'd come to return to the celebrations below.
Instead, she had stayed, wondering a little, to watch over him as he slept.
And she knew in that moment beyond any accusation that he was hers now. Hers every bit as much as Thor was. And that there was no force in the Nine strong enough to sever that bond.