Chapter 21
"Thor! Thor, stop!" Frigga called, running to them with more composure than either of the princes would have expected. Thor withdrew instantly. "My son."
Thor locked his jaw and slowly turned to face her.
"We don't need to do this. He can face Asgardian justice," she continued. Thor started to interject. He held his arms out in case she needed support. Frigga's face went cold. "Of which you no longer have the privilege to enact."
Thor's flushed, color making its way all the way to his ears and neck. He scowled. "What, then, shall we do with the elf?" Thor seethed.
"Your father's raven already went to Asgard with the news. When our warriors arrive, they will take care of the matter," Frigga said with queenly authority.
This half-resolution was unsatisfactory to Loki. After a moment of deliberation, he decided not to challenge the queen's hand in her own realm. Not to mention that few knew of his presence; it was probably that Frigga, Thor, or the both of them had been their targets, not the strange jötunn mage.
"Are you certain that we can leave him like this?" Thor pressed. If Loki had felt just as incredulous, it would not have been so obvious. Frigga ignored Thor and stalked away from the two of them.
The sun had begun to spread on the ground and Thor's eyes roved over the savaged meadow. The air was astringent and a circle of the field reduced to a sheet of ash. Loki had burned away all the life of the flowers.
Thor found the berth of death unsettling. The patch of black looked wrong in a way he could not have explained. Thor dropped his shoulders and then marched off to pack up the horses. The animals kicked their hooves in their nervousness. Thor did not blame them.
They rode another day and stopped for their second night a ways from the lake. Frigga insisted that they camp in the woods to distance themselves from the alluring water. The coniferous trees were thick and green under the sky.
Loki lit a small fire while Thor set up camp.
Frigga came over to him after a few minutes. "I am in your debt, Prince Loki," she said.
Loki was quiet for a moment. "I am glad you are well, Queen Frigga," was all he said in return. The fire popped audibly.
"I noticed that you were wincing all throughout the ride today, Prince Loki. I know that I have already offered my help to you. If you permit me to heal the rest of your wounds, you can consider it my thanks, or some of my debt if you will," she continued.
Loki held her gaze. The healing his body needed was nowhere near comparable to what he had done for her. It was muscle and blood and bone that needed mending for him, not magical damage.
"Your thanks," he echoed, quirking an eyebrow. How convenient, how simple it would be to just let her heal him and be done with it. Otherwise, he would surely end up waiting until after he returned to the palace, or even to Jötunnheimr if he was strong enough to travel by then.
Loki was not looking forward to another iteration of trying to alter his bones.
"Prince Loki, you have given me my life. For this, I am grateful."
"I will accept your services as recompense," Loki conceded. He laughed in spite of himself, laughed because of the strange position he found himself in. Damn this realm.
"To your tent, then?" Frigga asked, gesturing across the flame.
Loki nodded, having little faith in his voice. He set a containment spell on the fire and detached from the magic he had been feeding it, a precaution in the event that his pain leached into his spell.
Frigga climbed into the tent and illuminated it with a spell. The tent was sized for at least four warriors and their equipment. She laid a wool bedroll across the center of the tent. She beckoned Loki who had taken to watching her from the door.
He forced himself to react immediately as not to appear hesitant or worried; he wanted to give no indication of weakness. He pressed his back to the padding and removed his tunic. The bruise on his front had been reduced to a few slate blue coin-sized spots.
Frigga sat crossed legged next to him and took off her riding gloves. Loki did not breathe as her fingers touched his chest, tapping like raindrops. She did this across his ribcage and then laid a hand over his heart. Her methods were not like jötnar healers and he suspected that she was doing more than healing with her motions. What other chance would she have to understand jötunn anatomy?
He watched her avidly even though she was probably only determining the damage for herself. He figured that it was irrational to worry, but try as he might, his paranoia would not go.
The energy laced in his veins could stave of either of his traveling companions. They did not threaten him.
Frigga's fingers stopped on his ribs and applied the gentlest of pressures. Loki steeled his face, nearly wincing.
"There are free pieces of bone in your chest and two of your ribs have been attached to the wrong bone," she said sullenly.
Loki sighed; Frigga's hand rose and fell with is breath. It was the same temperature as his, different from the cool skin of his brothers. The idea of an Æsir touching him felt dirty and restless. A shiver shimmied down his shoulders and spine. Frigga recoiled reflexively as a raw surge of heat passed in Loki's veins.
Loki sat up abruptly, panic on his features. "I'm sorry, I—" he said hurriedly.
Frigga hushed him. "I'm alright," she said, showing her the unmarred peach of her palm. She replaced it on him and he could feel her shaking now. He refocused on keeping his temperature moderate.
Frigga pressed her fingers into the depression of his chest as if she were going to mold it. Loki stifled a sound. She gave him a sympathetic smile and relaxed her muscles, concentrating on her arcane art.
She targeted a ragged bone shard and guided it up through his skin. Loki clenched his jaw and tried to keep any moisture in his eyes from betraying weakness. The surface of his skin parted around the chip which came out with a dark dribble of blood. Frigga laid it on a cloth and dried it. It was about the size of a fork's head.
Loki laid the back of his hand over his eyes as Frigga knelt back to him. She took out another four chunks before having him turn over and proceeding to remove another sixteen. Frigga mended the slits each piece left and sat back down on her heels. Loki glanced up at her.
Her brow creased. "We need to re-break a couple of your ribs to set them properly," she said. Her lips were turned down at their corners. "I can do it for you, but I think it would be best if someone held you down. I'm sorry, I'm not sure it would be safe if you moved in the process."
Loki narrowed his eyes. She was fearful that he might strike her, then. To be fair, he had nearly burned her. Her implication was the worst bit of it all.
There was no way in all of the nine realms that Prince Loki of Jötunnheimr was going to let that arrogant piece of Æsir filth lay a hand on him.
"Must we include him?" Loki said stoically. "We can use magic instead."
"You may break you magical bindings without meaning to. I know you do not mean me harm, Prince Loki." Frigga smiled a 'I'm-trying-to-help-you' smile that seemed all too saccharin to Loki. "Let us take this precaution."
Loki bit back a smirk. "You've done a lot for me, Queen Frigga. For that, I thank you." He did not want to sound as if he was dismissing a servant for after requiring their services.
How could she even consider having Thor hold him down?
"The longer you wait to remake them, the worse it will be. You don't—" Frigga's voice was unwarrantably motherly and even chiding.
"Why do you force this?" Loki hissed at first, but then changed to a loquacious way of speaking. "The dinner in the palace and now this. I am not of your line, queen. We are beyond pleasantries."
The emotion on Frigga's face was dimmer now, guarded against him. "There will never be another chance to have two princes, two who have not come of their thrones, in such a position to know one another. It is the two of you who will wage wars when you are kings." Loki gave her the blankest expression he could manage. "You don't have the formality of kings, not yet. Forgive me, Prince Loki, but it would only be damaging to yourself to deny this aid."
"I will keep my wretched bones," Loki said coldly. "Thank you for your healing." He drew out the last words, making it blatant that he wanted her out.
Frigga rose to her feet and watched him for a second, not with caution, he knew. Disappointment, perhaps? It did not matter.
"Will you take first watch?" she ventured.
He nodded slowly, hoping that she would go without further question. Frigga ducked out and retired to her tent. Loki wondered if she would actually sleep.
He walked out into the night, the crisp scent of pine and emerald needles suggesting nothing of the magical waters nearby. He scraped a handful of pine needles into his hand. They were similar to the trees in the more moderate regions of Jötunnheimr. Their odor was stronger in this realm; Loki did not find it unpleasant.
Loki's moment of wistfulness was whisked away at the sight of Thor.
AN: Thank you to a very kind guest reviewer and kittyhawk09 for their commentary! I did not actually come up with Frigga's condition based on what happens to her in Thor 2. It was already planned by that time. Woot, chapter 21! Please review if you're enjoying the story, I'd love to hear it. And my thanks to Aylithe for beta editing this story to crazy extents.