Asgard

The boy walked down the stone corridors, trying to force a serious expression on his face. It did not work when he tripped over his long legs and fell on the ground face first in front of several servants and guards.

"My Prince! Are you well?"

"Your Majesty!"

"Let me help you, my liege."

With his cheeks burning, the boy thanked the helpful servants and waved them away before standing up and resuming his walk, completely aware of their gazes on their back. He knew they would be telling the other servants, their friends, and family members how prince Odin kept tripping over his own legs and how long would it take until he fell over his own sword and killed himself with it.

As he stood in front of the metal doors of his father's study, the red-haired prince wiped the remaining dust off his clothes, brushed his hair with his hands and took a long, deep breath before finding the courage to knock on the door.

"Come in!" his father's booming voice came from the study.

Odin entered, carefully closing the door behind. Bor's study was a perfect reflection of his father's personality, cold, grey walls, windows closed with metal barriers, dark rugs and paintings of battles Bor had won and many books containing details about Asgard and its ever-growing construction. The only source of light was a fire burning inside the old fireplace.

Behind Bor stood the tapestry of their family, with all their names written in gold. Only his grandmother's name was missing, a black scorched stone in the place where her name should have been.

Odin stared at his own name and then at the names of his brothers. One day, his name would be next to the name of his wife and their children under them.

"You wanted to see me, Father?" Odin asked, standing in front of Bor's desk while the King continued to write on his report without bothering to look up.

Ever since he was a child, Odin feared his father. Bor's size, his booming voice, and his perpetual angry eyes never allowed any of his sons to feel comfortable in his presence. He was not the sort of father who would take his children in his arms and sat them on his lap while laughing and telling them stories.

Bor was a king first and always, the fact they there were his sons only meant that they would inherit what he left behind. They were heirs, rather than his children.

Odin had never been hugged by his father nor praised. Everything Odin did or said was scrutinized and berated, no matter how hard he tried or his results. Bor was never satisfied with anything he did, every action was either a failure or Odin had done nothing more than his obligation.

"I was told about the army's reorganization," Bor said, finally putting his pen down and facing his son.

Odin stood straighter. He had spent months studying their army, planning ways which could make it more efficient through different patrols, training regimens and acquiring new weapons. His efforts had been so successful that the Generals had asked him to lead the charge against an upcoming Vanir attack.

Whatever hope he had of gaining his father's pride and admiration was crushed the moment Bor's grey eyes found his blue ones and he faced him furiously.

"Who told you to meddle in the army, boy? I definitely never gave you the order."

"I was... I was looking through our strategy and I thought I could improve it," Odin answered, trying to sound reasonable and mature while trying to ignore his disappointment. "You can ask the Generals, Father. They believe the changes I have implemented have helped—"

"I do not care about the Generals' opinion," Bor interrupted, his fury growing with each second. "Once more, you forget your place, Odin! The army is not your responsibility. It is Cul's! He is the one who will lead them, not you!"

Odin took a step back, feeling as though he had been punched.

"I know that. Cul is a great warrior, but he struggles with strategy and diplomacy," Odin said, pleading for understanding. "Father, I was just trying—"

"You were trying to take your brother's position!"

"I was not—"

"Do not lie to me, boy! I see right through you! I can see your ambition. You crave the throne. You think yourself better than your older brother and you want to prove that you are more suitable!"

"What if I am?! Maybe I am better suited to be King!" Odin snapped, his voice finally raising to match his father's as all the anger and bitterness he had held back were released. "The only reason you want Cul in the throne is that he is the firstborn, but that does not mean that he was born to rule! I can be better than him! In fact, I am better. I am better than you, old man!"

Bor leaned back against his chair, his grey eyes almost hidden by the shadows of the room.

"Better than me? Odin, you deluded fool."

Suddenly, the fire went out, leaving the study in complete darkness before the windows exploded, shards of glass flying everywhere as wind entered the study. Outside, the sky was black and thunder roared.

"You claim to be better than me, but you have done nothing but build your kingdom on top of lies and secrets," Bor said, sitting at the desk and moving his arm accusingly at Odin. "Because of that, your kingdom will fall and your sons with it."

The still teen Odin, turned to his father.

"Keep my sons out of this!" he yelled at the older man.

"Very well, Odin. See it for yourself," Bor pointed towards the broken windows.

Odin moved towards the window, his hands shaking as he looked up and saw Thor in the dark sky above him, thunder blasting all around him as he stared at Odin with pure hatred in his glowing eyes.

"You lying bastard!" Thor roared. "I cannot stand to look at you! I am ashamed to share the same blood!"

Odin felt his legs trembling. "No, Thor... Please, you do not understand..."

"It's too late, King Odin."

Odin turned to his left. At the now open metal door, stood Balder, his expression impassive at the destruction around them.

"Balder... son..." Odin pleaded, but Balder shook his head, staring at him with indifference.

"I do not know you, King Odin. When I stare at you I feel nothing. How can I be your son? We are strangers," Balder said and disappeared through the door into the darkness.

"Balder, wait!" feeling his heart shattering inside his chest, Odin ran out the door, but when he got out the study he was not in the halls of the palace but in the outskirts of Asgard, strong winds blowing leaves and branches all around him while thunderbolts exploded in the black sky.

As he looked up, Odin saw a tower burning. With a pang, he recognized it as the tower where all of Loki's possessions were stored and, right in front of it, a man dressed in green stood motionless with his back to Odin, his raven hair blowing with the wind and cinders.

"Loki!"

The tower began to crumble, huge stones falling around Loki, but the young man did not move.

Odin ran towards the tower, his body still that of his teenage self, but the ground shook beneath his feet and broke in front of him, leaving a big dark hole.

"Loki! Get away from there!" Odin screamed, his heart skipping a beat and more pieces of the tower fell around Loki. "Jump! I will catch you!"

Slowly, Loki turned around, his green eyes completely devoid of light, dull like a doll. Odin stretched his arms, urging Loki to jump.

Instead, Loki shook his head and his skin changed into that a Jotun, shattering his clothes before his red eyes found Odin's.

"You were right. My birthright was to die."

Before Odin's horrified eyes, he saw Loki walk into the burning tower just as it completely crumbled in a blast of fire.

Odin woke up, jumping into a seating position, his heart still beating furiously against his chest, while drops of sweat rolled down his forehead to his face.

"Father!"

Panting, Odin looked to his right and found Thor staring at him, a fallen chair on the ground.

"Thor, my son," Odin muttered, just as his oldest son wrapped him in a tight hug.

"You were sleeping for so long, Father. I thought you were never going to wake up," Thor said as Odin hugged him back with all the strength his frail body still possessed. "I missed you."

Feeling his eye brimming with tears and the horrible images of the dream still vivid in his mind, Odin rubbed his son's neck, relieved beyond words to have him there with him.

"I missed you too, my son," the old king said. "I missed… all of you."

After a few seconds, Thor moved away from his father and held his wrinkled hand in his own strong ones.

"Father... I went to Jotunheim," Thor said.

Odin raised his head and he waited impatiently for his son to continue, his expression falling when Thor shook his head.

"There was no one there anymore. Just the Frost Giants. They admitted defeat and retreated into the city. There was hardly anything for us to do. Balder stayed on Asgard, he managed to thaw all the ice with Gungnir... it was... impressive."

"I see," Odin leaned back against the pillows, his head throbbing painfully. He thought he had detected a hint of disappointment in Thor's words when he mentioned Balder's deed, but he was too tired to think more thoroughly about it.

"A Jotun was named King meanwhile, he came to see me in the battlefield by himself to discuss a new peace treaty," Thor continued. "He said his name is Helblindi Laufeyson."

Odin's one eye widened a bit. "So, they finally named him King. They should not have waited this long."

Thor frowned as he stared at his father.

"I did not know Loki had... a brother," Thor said, his voice carefully neutral, though his eyes were bright and filled with emotion.

"Two brothers, actually," Odin told him. "He also has a younger one."

Thor's pressed his lips into a thin line.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Odin closed his eye. He could hear his father's words in his dream.

Secrets and lies.

"Because it changes nothing, Thor. Laufey's other children simply mean he had heirs to the throne."

"You should have told me."

"And what would you do with that information?"

Thor opened his mouth but then closed it again. Whatever his son thought about Helblindi and Býleistr had nothing to do with Asgard or their relationship with Jotunheim.

"Was there any trace of him?" Odin asked, his features softening.

Thor looked up, he did not need to ask who Odin was referring to. "There is a small mountain of ice where they said the beast they turned Loki into collapsed. It is red ice and it's warm. The Frost Giants claim it is cursed. Red ice made from red blood from a blighted Jotun."

"Red blood," Odin muttered, remembering the scared consciousness he had held in his hands. "Any idea where he went?"

Thor shook his head. "No. There were many different accounts from the Jotnar and they weren't happy to talk about him. Some say he died when the beast shattered, others that he opened a portal in the sky and disappeared. Some said they saw Mother use her magic to turn the beast into a child, and another one swears he saw Hela and her Hel children drag him to Helheim. Whatever happened, Loki left Jotunheim. I do not know if he went with Hela or Mother, or if he escaped somewhere else."

Odin nodded, his eyelids feeling extremely heavy. Knowing his wife, he was certain Frigga would have taken Loki away from Jotunheim to somewhere safe. Whether they were still together or if Loki had escaped again, that remained a mystery.

Wherever he was, Odin hoped Loki's mind was whole again.

"The order to capture Loki was changed like you asked," Thor said. "Now he is to be captured alive."

Odin stared at his son. "Aye."

Thor looked down, taking a deep breath. "What will we do, Father? When we capture him?"

Odin closed his one eye and remained silent. In his mind, he could still feel the flames of the tower and the scent of burnt flesh.

Helheim

It did not take much time for Loki to fall asleep again. After reuniting and making amends with his mother, he was both physically and emotionally drained. Somehow, he found himself waking up with his head on his mother's lap, her soft hand stroking his raven hair.

He felt so comfortable and safe and... loved. He wished there was past or future, just this perfect moment of them together. Slowly, he moved his little arms, his fingers curling around the cloth of her clothes.

"Loki? Are you awake?" Frigga asked.

Loki nodded and moved his head so he could look up at her, his eyes still red and puffy from all the previous crying. They were once again on the bed, with warm wool covers covering Loki.

"How long was I asleep?" he asked, reluctantly sitting down so he could talk to his mother. "Since I was taken to Jotunheim, I mean."

"Sixteen days," Frigga answered as the boy's green eyes widened.

"That long? What happened there?"

Frigga placed a hand on his bandaged arm. "You do not remember?"

Loki shook his head and eyed his bandaged arms and legs, which were partially covered by black shorts.

"I remember being taken by Farbauti and... her sons," Loki paused. "They are my brothers, right? My blood brothers?"

Frigga stared at him sadly. "Aye, they are."

Loki lowered his head. "I see."

He still could not believe that he had brothers related to him by blood, and yet, the hatred they had shown him meant that blood was nothing but a source of shame to them. It served him right, every one of his siblings hated him.

"I remember that Farbauti, she... broke my arms, she tied me up to a rock at the center of the city and then broke my legs too. After that, I don't remember much... the pain was..." Loki went on, wracked by shame as he remembered his pathetic cries in front of his blood family and the entire Jotun population. "I tried to face them as a warrior, show no fear, but I couldn't. I wasn't strong enough. And then she stabbed me in the chest."

Frigga reached out and pulled him towards her. "Loki, darling, you have nothing to feel ashamed about."

Loki lowered his head. "I behaved like a coward."

"No, my love. There was nothing you could have done. You were badly injured and all by yourself, surrounded by people who wished your death. Of course you were scared, anyone would have been."

Thor would not, Loki thought. Thor would not show fear, he would not cry for his mother and father. He would have fought for his release and face his enemies like a true warrior.

As he prepared to voice his thoughts, Loki closed his mouth. He had to stop doing this, stop comparing himself to Thor like an envious little brat. He had done that enough during his first childhood, teen years and adulthood. He knew his mother would try to comfort him, but she had done enough for him already. She did not deserve to hear his pitiful insecurities.

"Did you save me, Mother?" he asked instead.

Frigga smiled, her blue eyes growing brighter when he called her 'Mother' again. She brushed his hair away from his forehead and nodded.

"I was not the only one who came to your rescue. I was having a meeting with Hela when your three friends announced that you had been taken. We went to Jotunheim right away, along with the warriors from Valhalla and Hela's personal army."

If Loki wasn't sitting down he would have fallen off the bed. There was just too much to take in. His mother marched into the frozen lands of Jotunheim with both Valhalla and Hela's army at her side? To save him?

"What? How?! How did you convince Hela? Why did warriors from Valhalla come? What... did you say 'my three friends'?"

"One question at a time, Loki," Frigga answered, smiling at his expression of pure shock. "Your friends came to Helheim to warn Hela that you had been taken. Three brave and strong young girls."

Loki's eyes grew even wider as understanding hit him like a ton of bricks. "America, Leah, and Verity?"

"Yes. They are all lovely girls, Loki. They fought tirelessly until you were freed."

Loki thought of the moment he had been drugged in the club. How he hoped either America or Leah would come to his rescue and how desperate he felt when minutes went by and no one came. Just as he thought he had been left to die, both America and Leah burst into the club and fought the Jotnar runts.

"They came for me?" he muttered, more to himself than to his mother, though she nodded with a smile. Then, a terrifying thought crossed his mind. "Verity! Verity didn't go to Jotunheim, did she?"

Frigga blinked, confused by his question. "Of course she did. She demanded to come, Loki."

"She's mortal! Who let her come to Jotunheim? I'm gonna kill America! She could have died or gotten really hurt!" he stared at his mother with pure fear in his eyes. "She's not dead, is she? Please tell me she's alright! If she got hurt because of me—"

Frigga placed her hands on his shoulders. "Darling, she's safe and unharmed. Do not fret."

Loki stared deep into Frigga's eyes, his breathing slowing down as he realized she was telling him the truth. "Really?"

"She's alright, Loki. Not even a god would have kept that girl away from the battlefield. She cares too deeply for you and would not rest until you were free."

Still shocked that Verity had put herself in such danger to come to his rescue, Loki heard his mother recounting the events on Jotunheim, his expression growing more alarmed as she described his transformation into a giant ice beast meant to follow Ymir's steps and become part of Jotunheim while freezing the rest of the realms, the battle against the Jotnar, his mother's battle against Farbauti and how America, Leah, and Verity had both stopped him from reaching his doomed destination and restored his identity.

Loki listened to every word, unconsciously placing a hand on his chest. He did not remember anything, but he felt that those events were familiar, like a dream he had forgotten the moment he had woken up. He remembered presences rather than images: his mother, Verity, America, Leah and...

No. That could not be right.

"Did Asgard intervene?" he asked.

Frigga seemed surprised by his question. "No, my love. The Realms were cut off from each other during the fight. No one from Asgard would have been able to reach Jotunheim. Why do you ask? Do you remember something?"

Loki shook his head. "It's nothing. I was just curious, that is all."

Of course, he had been imagining things, a stupid, childish part of him. There was no way Odin would have come to his rescue. The All-Father would have waited impatiently inside his palace for him to die while cursing that even his death was bringing chaos to his precious Realm and his precious true sons.

"We also brought this from Jotunheim," Frigga said as she turned around and presented Loki with his staff, the tip glowing with a bright, blue shard.

"My staff..." he muttered, still staring at the glowing shard. "Is that...?"

"Ymir's shard. Leah placed it here. Since it could hold an Infinity Stone we assumed it could also hold it," Frigga handed Loki the staff, who stared at her confused.

"You want me to have it?"

"It is your weapon and the shard is technically your birthright. Every warrior needs a weapon, even young warrior-mages."

Carefully, Loki took the staff from his mother's hands. It was heavier than he remembered, he would need to get used to wielding it again, but it's touch felt familiar and the power from the shard, though nothing like the Mind Stone, irradiated raw power. He wondered what he could do with such a weapon if he could wield it at all.

The idea of such power in his hands was exciting.

Putting aside his questions about the staff, Loki put it down on the bed and faced his mother again. There was still one thing she had not explained to him properly.

"Mother, how did you convince Hela to help you? She never interferes with other Realms," he asked. "What did you tell her?"

Frigga smiled and cupped his face with her warm hands. "You are not the only silver-tongue in this family, Loki. I can be very persuasive."

Just as Loki was about to ask how she had persuaded Hela to help her, the metal door of the bedroom swung open and a tall, muscular man entered. The raven-haired boy stared at the man with his mouth open, his face both of a stranger and very familiar. He had seen this man all his life, his stern expression, his long auburn beard, his angry grey eyes almost obscured by a horned helmet. However, all the times Loki had seen this man was through paintings and statues because Bor Burison, previous King of Asgard and father of Odin, had been dead more than a millennia before he had been born.

"Finally awake, I see," Bor grunted, his voice as low and authoritative as he had always imaged. "About damn time."

Loki could do nothing but stare in awe at the dead man he had believed to be his grandfather for ten centuries and then denied and despised for the last decade of his life.

He's so tall and big. He looks like a real king, his child mind thought instantly before he caught himself.

"Hello, Father," Frigga greeted him. "What do we owe the pleasure?"

Bor barely glanced at Frigga before his angry gaze fell on Loki again, making the boy feel extremely exposed due to his small body and lack of clothing. In response, Loki faced the older man with an angry glare of his own.

"Loki, this is Bor Burison," Frigga told him. "He's your—"

"The former King of Asgard, Father of the Aesir and Founder of Asgard," Loki recited the titles with thinly veiled contempt in his voice, his smile pleasant but his eyes hard like ice. "Stories of your greatness preceded you, your Majesty."

Bor raised a bushy eyebrow and walked towards them on the bed. Though it was hard not to flinch under the towering, muscular king, Loki kept his eyes on Bor's, his head raised to face the angry man who was now staring at him from top to bottom, judging him.

"A conniving, manipulative, selfish, greedy bastard," the old king muttered, staring at Loki with obvious disdain. "Had you been in my court, I would have sent you to the gallows."

Loki felt his heart racing inside his chest, it took everything he had to not look away from the man.

"I believe many Aesir share your sentiment, King Bor," Loki answered bitterly. "Including your son. I am sure Odin would love to see me hanged and quartered."

"Loki!" Frigga placed a hand on his back, forcing Loki to keep the rest of his words to himself.

Bor took a step back.

"Change," he ordered, much to Loki's confusion.

"I beg your pardon?"

"You're a skin changer, aren't you? You can change back and forth between Jotun and Aesir. So, change, now."

Loki opened his mouth, but it was Frigga who stood up and walked up to her father-in-law.

"King Bor, what is the meaning of this?" she demanded to know.

"Calm down, girl. I am not challenging him to a duel. I merely want to see something with my own eyes. So, boy, change."

"If he does not want to—" Frigga said, but Loki jumped from the bed and stopped her.

"It's alright, Mother. I'll do it."

Frigga stared at her son with a worried expression on her face, but relented and let him come closer to Bor. Since he did not want to ruin more clothes, Loki took off his shorts and stood before the former King of Asgard naked except for the bandages on his arms and legs. Then, he slowly changed into his Jotun form, starting with his hands and feet to his torso and face, his perception of the room changing with his body, and what was once comfortably warm became unpleasantly hot. Because of his cold skin, his bandages froze and shattered, falling to the ground.

Bor stared at him with a serious expression on his face. He walked around the boy, looking at him up and down, seemingly studying his birthmarks. After a few minutes of close inspection, he finally moved away.

"Have you seen what you wanted, King Bor?" Loki asked with a grimace, feeling like an animal or a freak on display.

"Yes, that is enough."

Swiftly, Loki changed back into his usual form and put on his shorts again, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. Frigga was equally angry and walked up to Bor.

"What was this for, Father?" she asked, her blue eyes cold as she moved between the old king and her son.

"I wanted to make sure of his parentage," Bor answered.

Both Frigga and Loki stared at the old king with a confused expression on their faces.

"His parentage? You already know it. Did you doubt me, King Bor?"

"It's not you I doubt, girl. Is that scheming son of mine," Bor answered, his grey eyes once again meeting Loki's, who was now looking even more confused. "Those marks on your skin do not lie, boy. You are the son of Laufey."

Loki pressed his lips and rubbed his arms even though is marks were no longer there. "And why did you doubt it?"

"Because you're Odin's spitting image. Not physically, it's deeper than that. The way you talk and sound, that look in your eyes... I looked at you and I saw my son reflected back," Bor said, lips curling into a small grin before Loki's bewildered expression. "I had to make sure he did not have a secret affair with the Jotun Queen."

Loki did not know how to react, his mind filled with contradictory thoughts and emotions. In what felt like a lifetime ago, being compared to Odin would have meant the world to him. Mirroring the powerful and wise king was what he had always strived for back when he still believed himself to be an Odinson and shared his blood with him. After learning of his lineage and Odin's rejection, Loki's former love and adoration turned into bitter hatred. He hated Odin and realized how much of a lying, hypocrite he truly was.

Being told that he resembled Odin now was an insult.

"I am nothing like that old bastard!" Loki finally shouted in Bor's face.

"Loki, that is enough!" Frigga admonished him.

Surprisingly, Bor chuckled.

"You do not want to be like him? That brings back memories. Odin used to yell at me those exact words. He vowed he would never turn into me," Bor said. "It is interesting how it all turned out."

"That does not matter, King Bor. I am nothing like Odin."

"Believe what you want, boy. You can deny him as much as you wish, but that will not change whose son you are."

Their conversation was interrupted when a slender woman entered the room, the green silk of her dress flowing gracefully behind her. Hela did not look any less intimidating by wearing more casual clothing, her long black hair down and her black crown hidden by sorcery, revealing her beautiful face. Her green eyes remained as sharp as ever as she looked at the unusual family in front of her.

"Loki, I see that you are awake and well," the Queen of Hel said with her usual indifferent tone. "It seems your rescue was a success."

Loki stood taller and walked up to Hela before bowing. "I was told about the events of Jotunheim and how you came to my rescue, Queen Hela. I do not know how to express my deepest gratitude."

"Norns! He even got the silver-tongue," Bor grunted behind him. "Was nothing of value taught to this child?"

Hela shifted her gaze from the boy to his mother behind him.

"Do not worry about gratitude, Loki. The price for your rescue has already been paid."

"The price?" Loki asked.

Surprised and confused, the raven child followed Hela's gaze towards his mother, who stood tall and impassive before slowly walking up towards the goddess of Death.

Loki's eyes widened and his mouth dropped as he realized what was happening.

"No! Mother, no! You can't!" he cried out, running for his mother when Bor's strong hands grabbed him and pulled him away. "Let go of me! Mother, please don't do this!"

Frigga turned around and stared her youngest boy with a smile. "It's alright, my love. I made this choice."

"You can't do this! Let me pay! You deserve to be in Valhalla!" Loki pleaded, trying in vain to free himself from Bor's grasp.

"Quiet, boy! Your mother made this deal to save you!" Bor told him, pulling him away from the two Queens. "You will respect her decision!"

"No! I don't want her to! Please, mother, don't! Let me pay! It was my fault!"

Frigga kept smiling warmly, there was no fear in her eyes.

"Loki, please do not worry. If it meant saving you, I would have done it all over again. I have no regrets."

Loki's eyes filled with tears as he helplessly watched his mother turn to face Hela and pay the price for his life.

"I am ready, Queen Hela."

Hela nodded and grabbed Frigga by her shoulders. The room exploded with green magic as the Queen of Hel held Asgard's Queen and power flowed between the two.

"Frigga Fjörgynndottir, Princess of the Vanir, Queen of the Aesir, All-Mother, I hereby claim you as a servant of Helheim. May you serve me well for as long as I see fit."

The magic receded and Frigga's body stopped glowing. A circular dark mark, similar to a tattoo, appeared on her right arm. It was Hela's personal crest, claiming her as her servant.

The moment Bor's grasp loosened, Loki broke free and ran to his mother, tears running down his face as he hugged her.

"Mother... no..." he whimpered, just as Frigga kneeled and held him close.

Frigga was now a servant of Hela, trapped by her oath and her freedom stripped away. She was little more than a slave and had lost her place in Valhalla, all because of him.

"Darling, this is my choice. I do not regret this," she told him, brushing his hair softly.

"This is wrong!" Loki cried out. "You should be free! You should be in Valhalla!"

"Valhalla was a golden cage, Loki. I found no peace there, not knowing what was happening to my children or being unable to help them. Believe me, my son, this is what I want."

Loki shook his head. He couldn't allow this to happen. He could not let his mother become a servant of Hela because of him. There had to be a way to free her, even if Hela had already claimed her.

A thought crossed Loki's mind and he moved away from his mother's arms to face Hela.

"Queen Hela, I wish to make a deal."

The two women stared at Loki. Maybe there was no way to break Frigga's oath, but Hela's enchantment did not mention that Frigga would have to be her servant for eternity.

"A deal, Loki? What can you possibly have to offer?" Hela asked. "Surely you know your mother's oath cannot be broken."

"I know that, Queen Hela. However, you never said my mother's servitude would be eternal, but that it would last until you saw fit."

Frigga moved closer to Loki. "Loki, what are you doing?"

"Please trust me, Mother," Loki smiled weakly at her and faced the Hel Queen.

"And what is it that you propose? Surely you know that you cannot switch places with her, nor shorten her time as a servant," Hela told him, eyeing him curiously. "I will not take you as my servant, Trickster. I am no fool."

"I know, but that does not mean I cannot ease her burden, even though I am not your servant," he looked at his mother, his green eyes shining. "Let me be her agent. I will support her in every task you gave her. I will not be your servant, but I will help her in every way I can."

Frigga's mouth opened, but before she could speak, Hela moved closer to the young god of mischief, her face still unreadable but there was a glint of something in her eyes.

"You wish to be the All-Mother's Agent," she said.

Something stirred inside Loki as he heard those words out loud, but he could not understand what. They felt very familiar somehow, though he knew he had never been an agent before, let alone his mother's. Suddenly, he thought of three women standing before him, their words filling him with hope for a future and acceptance, then suddenly it all changing to feelings of despair, heartbreak, and resentment.

"Very well. I will allow you to support your mother's duties," Hela said, bringing Loki back from his reverie. "Make sure I do not regret this decision, Loki."

With his heart beating painfully inside his chest, Loki bowed to the Goddess of Death.

"Thank you, Queen Hela. I will not let you down."

"Make sure you do not let your Mother down, Trickster," Hela answered and walked out of the room as quietly and gracefully as she had entered.

Frigga moved closer to Loki and placed a warm hand on his shoulders. "Loki... there was no need for that."

"I know, Mother, but this was my choice," he beamed at her. "I have no regrets."

Frigga blinked and, slowly, her lips curled into a smile. She kissed her son's forehead.

"Thank you, my little magpie," she said affectionally. "I could not have asked for a better Agent."

Loki nodded and grabbed her hands. Whatever he felt towards those other women, whether it was from a dream or another part of himself from another life, he knew things were different this time. He wasn't looking for acceptance and he wasn't being used. He was going to help his mother because he loved her and she loved him back. Because Frigga's love was true, warm and unconditional, not something that he had to earn and taken away the moment he did not meet her expectations.

Thus, when he hugged her, gladly accepting to be her Agent for as long as it took, he felt like had reached the end of a very long and sorrowful journey.

I'm home.