NOTE: Almost to the end everybody! Just one more after this and this monstrosity will be over. Please enjoy and I hope to hear from you!

CHAPTER 37

To be seen

Frigga waved at one of the servants to take Loki's tray away. At least he'd eaten something, though she wished it had been more. He would never be able to build up his strength eating so little.

Thor leaned closer to her, brows drawn low in worry. "Shall I go after him?" he asked in a low voice, meant only for her.

"No, no, let him be, Thor. He will only provoke you into a fight, to restore what's familiar to him. In a bit I will go to him and see if he will talk to me."

Thor was silent as he accepted another serving off the meat tray and drink refills were poured, and then he slid over, into Loki's chair to ask her in a low voice, "Did he truly believe this was all illusion?"

"He feared it was. He knows how malleable perception is, so he doubted his own."

Thor shook his head, not disagreeing with her, but more in confusion. "I thought seeing how everyone lauds him would help, not upset him more."

She laid a hand on his and squeezed. "It does help. It will help. But he-" she hesitated, knowing they were observed and some might be able to hear. She had to find words so others would understand that what Loki needed to recover from was not visible, but deep. "When the Celestial sent him back, they did not heal the damage already inflicted, they merely put back what they had stolen. He will mend, but it may take years, not days."

Thor's lips parted and his eyes widened in distress. "Years?" he repeated.

She nodded. It might be years for Loki to reach a better understanding of himself and the truth. The mental damage from Thanos' manipulations, the Gems, and the Celestial would make that more difficult still. But she believed it could heal. "He will need our patience and support."

"Of course," Thor said, as if it was so obvious she needn't have said anything, and she smiled.

"How was I so blessed with you?" she asked and patted his hand, before rising. "I will find him and see how he fares. Sigyn, if you would walk with me."

Sigyn started, caught listening to their conversation, but she followed promptly. "Yes, Your Grace."

In the hall outside, Frigga said, as they walked, "I wish to thank you, Sigyn. I have heard the song you made about Loki's battle, and it was a well-thought and kind thing to do for him."

"I was glad to use my power for something good, by my own choice."

Frigga nodded, accepting that. "It showed me your skill, that you read the situation and acted to strengthen where it was needed. It is a gift."

Sigyn's gaze dropped. "It was nothing so special," she murmured. "Or it should not be."

The truth of that was like a slap in the face, because Sigyn was right. It shouldn't have required a special action, by an outlander no less, to reinforce the notion that Loki had done something heroic with his sorcerer powers. Being wiser and long-lived, her people should be more accepting of difference, not less, and yet there was no doubt they were not.

Frigga let out a soft sigh. "No, it shouldn't be. But it is, at least here. He has always stood on the outside, no matter how I tried to help bridge it. Yet you are no bridge; you stand with him." She hesitated, wondering how to put her concern. "I would not pressure you, or wish you to do anything you would not otherwise do, but... I would plead with you to be aware that his spirit is fragile. Be honest with him and with your own intent."

Sigyn's gaze met hers, and she knew Frigga's true worry. "Do not break his heart, you mean. I do not toy with him, Your Grace, I assure you. I am not the sort to want to trick the trickster for my own amusement, nor do I act without reflection." Sigyn smiled and teased, "I leave that to Aesir."

Frigga inclined her head, smiling, at the point well struck. "Then I am content."

She left Sigyn at the entrance to the garden to enter it alone. She knew Loki was within, and had to inhale a settling breath after she warded the entrance shut so they would not be disturbed.

He lay beneath his tree, hair like a black halo about his head and his fingertips stained green from the grass. Seeing him so still and pale reminded her of Midgard with a painful clutch of her heart.

He looked up at her but said nothing, as she smiled a greeting and settled herself cross-legged next to him. She patted the bowl of her skirts in invitation, and it was a measure of his inner turmoil, despite the calm face, that he accepted. With a graceful twist of his body he put his head in her lap, stretching out his long legs. He was tense, as if he'd forgotten how to be anything else, with his shoulders and back held rigid, and his fingers clutching the grass to either side.

"Close your eyes," she murmured, floating her fingers down his face to encourage him. When his eyes closed, she combed his hair in her fingers gently. He had such thick hair, not as soft as Thor's, but with a bit of delightful spring to it that showed up whenever he let it. There was a nightflower leaf in his hair that made her smile. He was her nightflower, always had been. She plucked out the leaf and smoothed his hair from his face.

She was content to be there, offering whatever comfort she could, and rejoicing that he was there, alive, when it had not been long ago that she had knelt beside his empty corpse in the sand and faced the truth that this time, he was dead. But he had come back, again, and surely this was the last miracle she deserved.

After a little while of soft ministrations, he inhaled a deeper breath and let it go slowly, tension flowing out of him.

She kept on caressing his hair. "Better?"

He hesitated, as if considering a lie, but shook his head minutely.

"Was it so overwhelming?" she asked.

"No. Not that," he answered reflexively, but admitted right after, "Yes. I couldn't breathe. Which is… foolish, is it not? To have what I wanted and I ran away."

She wound a lock of his hair around a finger and it stayed curled when she let it go. "You need more rest. You were hurt, within, wielding the Gem and the Celestial did not return you hale. That is not foolish, but wounded. If you were stabbed by a sword you would not begrudge time to heal," she chided gently.

"But it is all my mind. Nothing can heal my nightmares, my memories, my emotions," he objected and choked out a pained laugh. "All of it mixed up and broken."

"Hurt, not broken," she corrected and her fingers smoothed down his cheek. The bones were too prominent, flesh worn away. He'd always been thin, but this hurt her heart, how gaunt he looked. "You were most grievously attacked. The wounds are inside, but they are wounds nonetheless. What has been hurt can be healed, my dearest."

At first there was only silence, as he mulled her words. But she could see a sliver of hope breaking through his weary despair like a sunrise over the dark ocean as he realized that this need not last forever. There was help and there could be healing.

"I want to go somewhere," he murmured suddenly. "Somewhere I need not pretend to be well. I am not," he admitted. "I am living inside one of my own illusions; nothing feels real. My mind is like smoke and I can barely hold onto it…"

She wanted to agree. He should be away where he could rest and heal in peace. But would Sigyn's song be enough, or was Loki's presence necessary? She would hate to have him go away and his reknown subside again in his absence.

In her silence he heard the hesitation, and gave a sigh. "I know. They'll forget. For a long-lived people, Aesir have short memories."

"I think they will not forget, not this time," she reassured him. "But that said, I think perhaps you need to grow accustomed to the notion that they admire you. I fear if you leave, you will forget."

"What then can I do?" he asked, a helpless undertone to his voice.

"Stay here, a little while longer," she smoothed back the hair from his high forehead, mourning the faint lines that remained on his brow and the corners of his eyes, aging that had fallen on him from pain, not years. "I will help you rest. And I think, with Sigyn's help, we will help rid you of those false memories Thanos forced on you. So they will stop tormenting you."

"That would help," he murmured. "I have forgotten what it is to not fear my own dreams."

Her heart twinged at the softly spoken words. "Oh, little one." She bent to kiss his forehead. "All will be well. Be patient and allow us to help you."

He sighed. "I know, but I already weary of … being weary."

"It would help if you would eat more," she pointed out, and to her surprise, he snorted a laugh.

"Munin gave me a hazelnut." Her smile faded as his expression darkened with anger and more than a little self-loathing. "Even the bird pities me."

"Loves you," she corrected softly. "Munin may be the king's messenger, but he loves you. He wants you to be well. When was the last time the raven pair played a trick together? He misses his partner in mischief."

Loki's lips flicked upward. "You should know my days of mischief are over."

"Over?" she repeated, lifting her brows skeptically. "Well, we shall see. I will be stricken if that is true. This place needs a bit of livening up sometimes."

"But…"

"The one thing you and your brother do poorly is doing anything in moderation." She didn't stop caressing his head. "But I think there's no harm in mischief. Mischief is for laughter and delight. It's when it becomes cruelty there is harm. But laughter is only goodness."

"And if I cannot find the way?" he whispered.

"Then we will show you. You cannot be lost, Loki, when you have so many to help you."

Her words struck with a force she didn't intend. His body shuddered with sudden irregular breaths, as he shut his eyes, brow furrwed against sudden tears. And his voice was ragged as he forced out, "Even when I don't deserve it?"

"Oh, darling," Frigga bent down to awkwardly embrace him, "of course you do. You deserve your family, and you deserve love."

He shook his head against hers, in stricken denial, so she didn't let him go. "Yes," she reassured him. "Yes, you do." She caressed his hair. "Let it go, little one. All this doubt of who you are, none of it's true. You torment yourself, my son, with these fears that you deserve nothing good."

He inhaled a ragged breath, trying to calm down. "I want to believe," he whispered. "I do, Mother. But I'm so tired, I … just can't. I can't remember what it is like to have peace."

The soft admission broke her heart and she kissed his forehead. "We will find you well again, my son."

He lifted a hand to rub his eyes, letting out a long breath to relax again.

She let the silence linger for a little while, mulling over whether this was a good time to tell him. "There is something you should know." When he tensed, bracing himsel, she rubbed the back of his hand. "It is a good thing, Loki. I hesitate only because you have heard much today, but perhaps this news will help you pull out the weed that's taken root in your heart."

"Mother?" He frowned at her, now curious, as he tried to figure out what she could be talking about.

"You know I went to Jotunheim, and there I revealed to them the truth so that they would come to battle against Malekith."

"I know," he said. "I wish you hadn't. Too many people know for the secret to hold, and then what?" His face fell into familiar lines of hopelessness, expecting hatred and exile, and perhaps worse.

"And then? We will hold our ground, that you are our son and always have been. Where you were born makes no difference to us, nor should it to anyone else. If anyone disagrees, we will deal with them." She would be the lioness Volstagg called her to protect her cub. Even if he was a wolf and not a lion, he was still hers, and woe to the person who tried to say he was not. Softening her voice, she patted his chest. "I think it will be not so terrible as you fear, especially now that you saved the Realms from Thanos."

He did not seem especially reassured, but she knew the anxiety would probably not diminish until the truth was known on Asgard and he could confront it. She almost wished to announce it, just to have it done, but he needed to recover first. And hopefully her news would help with that. "But you have heard only the beginning of my tale, so hush. While I was there on Jotunheim, I found an ally. A giantess came out from the crowd, and in her face was the first hope she had felt in a thousand years and she asked me, "Laufey's son? He still lives?' and when I said yes, the joy in her eyes – Loki, she was your mother." Loki went rigid and shoved himself up and around so he could look her in the face. Frigga stayed calm under the intensity of his silent demand and continued, watching him grow pale, "She told me in those dark days of the war, when their defeat seemed close, Laufey saw his only son was born small and he thought himself cursed. He took you from her, believing a sacrifice would gain their gods' favor. She protested, but too weak from the birth, she couldn't stop him. When she had strength enough to go after you, you were gone. She did not abandon you, Loki; she wanted and loved you, and she has mourned her son every day since you were taken from her."

"And you believed her?" he asked, hoarsely.

She nodded. "I saw a mother's grief. It was true. She wants to meet you."

He turned away, one hand pulling at the grass. "I'm not ready for that."

It wasn't a flat 'no', which was better than she expected, so she didn't want to pressure him. "Later then. But you should know, she was there, fighting with me to rescue you. I admired how fierce she was and how willing to risk herself and her people for a child she'd lost so long ago. She had not forgotten you."

Loki slumped tiredly while he combed his fingers through the long grass and mulled over what she'd said. She hoped it would help him, if not immediately, at least settle in his soul that his birth mother still thought of him and had never abandoned him.

When he spoke, it was a barely audible murmur. "Volstagg said they were honorable warriors. I had never heard anyone call the Jotnar honorable."

That truth stung. She could well believe it, having heard so much of Asgard's hostility herself, and surely there was worse the queen did not hear. There were so many failures to put right. She drew a pained breath. "That was our fault: Asgard's for demonizing our enemies, and your father's and mine for not combating it as we should. We thought such attitudes would weaken as memories of the war faded, but we should have done more, I know that now. But that belief was never fair or true, Loki." She reached out for his hand, not surprised when he drew away from her touch, so instead she held up a finger and sent a thread of seidr to call one of the jewelwings drinking the flowers. "We have learned. And change has come. And you, you were trapped in a dark cocoon, losing your way, but within, you were changing too. And now, my darling, you can emerge and spread your wings."

Long but fragile limbs wrapped her outstretched finger, and she held out the delicate creature to Loki to see. It flapped bright blue and green shimmery wings slowly, showing them off. Then it launched off her finger and flew across the flowers, and Loki's gaze followed it as long as he could.

"When you regain your strength, you will fly, my son, and it will be beautiful." She kissed his forehead and when he leaned into her, she wrapped an arm around his back and sat with him.

The beauty of the garden surrounded them, and it wasn't long before the hum of the jewelwings and the sweet fragrace coaxed him into sleep. Frigga stayed where she was, reminded of a much smaller boy, sleeping against her in this same garden.

Loki stirred slowly, coming to the awareness that he was in the garden. He'd slept, and slept without dreams, and that alone seemed a marvelous gift.

He heard soft voices a small distance away, and wondered who else had come in. The list of people he wanted to talk with was very short, so he kept his eyes closed and hoped they didn't notice he was awake.

He shortly recognized Odin's voice. "How does he fare?"

Loki waited, curious to know what she'd say. Thinking he was asleep, she would surely be more honest with Odin than she had been with him. Maybe she'd suggest they send him to Jotunheim to be with his real family, now that they knew his birth mother had survived. Or just imprison him someplace while he finished going mad.

But – of course – she said nothing of the kind, answering, "Weary, of course. But the feast was good for him. I think he needs only time and care."

"And sleep. Which he has stopped getting," Odin said, and Loki could sense Odin's eye looking right at him. His eyes flew open, guilt flashing through him as if he'd been caught eavesdropping.

She was amused as she said, "Ah, he awakens. Then I shall leave you two to talk," Frigga said and before Loki could object, she was could only watch as the king approached, Gungnir making no sound in the grass as he used it as a walking stick.

It was tempting to cast a double of himself and escape, except when he tried, the strands of seidr slipped away from him and he sighed. He'd have to endure then.

"Good evening, Allfather." He pushed to sit upright, preparing to force himself to his feet.

Odin's free hand beckoned him to stay where he was, while his bright eye examined Loki's face. "I am glad to see you recovering," Odin said. "How are you feeling?"

Loki considered telling him the lie that he was feeling well, but ended up giving a shrug. "Tired. But better than before."

Of course dead had been before, so that was not saying much, but it was true.

"Good. You will continue to improve," Odin said, nodding. He hesitated, as if intending to say something, but said nothing.

"Did you need something?" Loki prompted eventually, to break the awkward silence.

"No, no, only to see you. I was told you left the feast hall somewhat … abruptly. I hope no one said anything to offend you? Because I will-"

"No," Loki interrupted and huffed a laugh. "Quite the opposite."

"Good. I want to be certain you are lauded and celebrated," Odin said. In the pause before he spoke again, Loki wondered if an alternate dimension might explain all of this. Frigga had proved this was no illusion, but perhaps somehow the Celestial had put him back in a similar, but not quite right universe.

But even if that were true, which he didn't believe, he was still stuck in this universe, so he had no choice but to deal with its strangness.

Odin said, "The corpse of Thanos is in the Great Hall if you wish to see it."

Loki stiffened, alarm coursing through him, and the memory of a nightmare flashing through his mind. "You are certain he's dead? What if- he could rise -" He started to scramble to his feet, but Odin extended Gungnir to block his path, holding him in place until Loki calmed enough to look up.

"Loki. You killed him. He will never rise again."

Loki subsided, the aftermath of anxiety bitter in his mouth.

"We will burn the body when you have sufficient strength to wield your power," Odin said. Loki inwardly grimaced that perhaps his reach for seidr had not gone unnoticed. "I want you to be there, visible to all, as Thanos is removed from the universe."

Loki nodded. He wanted to to help do it, to be sure it was done. Otherwise there would always be a lingering sense that Thanos might have escaped and might return, and he knew he didn't need that. Strange how he had felt Thanos die – every moment of that battle felt ingrained in his memory, including the end when he'd forced the power inside the husk of Thanos' body and made it stop, killing him. Yet the memory seemed to matter so little to his fear.

"You were there," he murmured. "I remember." He didn't remember seeing Odin, but he had felt the king's power and heard him call. "You came to Midgard to fight him."

"No. I went to Midgard to stop you from sacrificing yourself," Odin corrected. "Though I failed in that." He walked close enough the toes of his boots nudged Loki's leg and his hand laid on Loki's head. "I will say this again, and I hope this time you listen: you are my son. And," his fingers slipped under Loki's chin to tip his face up, "I see you, Loki. Everyone sees you."

Loki looked up, heart feeling full and yet shattered. His mouth opened to speak but nothing came out. His lower lip started to tremble, and his eyes stung. He tried to lower his head, so Odin couldn't see, but the fingers wouldn't let go. He held his breath until his chest heaved, and he tried to blink back the wet heat. I will not cry over this, he insisted to himself, I need to stop being such a child and get myself together.

He inhaled a deep breath and let it out slowly, feeling more settled afterward.

Only then did Odin let him go, with a touch of his cheek. "Rest, my son. The Realms shine all the brighter today because of you, remember that."

Odin was several paces away when Loki blurted, "Father?"

Odin's hand tightened on Gungnir and he turned swiftly, arching bushy brows at Loki and prompting when he didn't speak immediately, "Loki?"

Loki realized what he'd said and had to swallow hard, grateful Odin wasn't making a big deal out of it. That let him lift his chin. "Nothing," Loki said. "It's just – I hadn't said it for awhile."

Odin's sudden smile seemed pure as the sun, so glad to hear Loki call him 'Father' again. He nodded to Loki, in grateful acceptance, and as he left, Loki was feeling pretty good that such a little thing had made Odin happy.

Maybe there was a secret magic in that. As he stretched out beneath the tree again, he thought of the Soul Gem, and what he'd said to the mortals about the power of soul energy. Was that not what he'd done, strengthening Odin's soul power a tiny bit by making him happy? And was it not also true that his parents' attention, and the notice in the hall, and even something so small as seeing Sigyn's face had started to refill and repair his? Was it not all the sentiment he'd scorned for so long, bitterly aware how shallow and false it could be? Yet when it was true...

Sentiment seemed weakening because it made him feel vulnerable, but in that vulnerability, it seemed he was healing, too. It was a paradox, but as it made him feel less like a bag of glass shards, shattered and jumbled, he didn't want to inspect it too closely yet.

There would be tmie for that later. For now, all he wanted to do was look up at the sky and watch the birds, and feel that he was home.