Disclaimer: I do not own anything!
This is a mini-oneshot-fic inspired by a tweet about how things could have been different if Frigga had found Loki in the weapon's vault in Odin's stead in the first Thor movie.
Needless to say, all rights belong to the Marvel Cinematic Universe etc. etc.
"This cannot be," whispered Loki, his fingers curled around the Casket of Ancient Winters. He watched in horror as his hands turned blue as they had on Jotunheim and stiffened when he felt a surge of coldness rush through him, freezing his veins from the inside. This cannot be. This has to be a nightmare. I cannot really be … Or could he?
A flood of memories washed through Loki's mind, converging into a hideous horrific mashup of overlapping images of his child self, hungering for the attention of his father, his young adult self, hungering for the attention of his brother and his comrades, and Thor, the Mighty Thundergod, underwhelmed by Loki's mastery of sorcery, ridiculing him for his lack of bravery and gladiatorial prowess. Suddenly, he remembered all the mental exhaustion, all the rejection, all the dark places his thoughts had traveled to over the years … He'd often asked himself why he had never been able to match Thor and the Warriors Three or even Sif on the battlefield, why most of Asgard had seemed to relegate him to an eternal second place even though he was a norndamned prince or why he had never been able to elicit even the most implicit act of praise from Odin.
Was this the answer? Because he was a … No!
Loki inhaled sharply but his heart was beating too fast for a deep, calming breath. The coldness from the casket had spread out through his entire body, its frosty fingers seemingly tugging at his brain. Do not let them touch you! Volstagg had walked away from Jotunheim with a severe frostbite he was still nursing at this very moment while Loki himself had been able to touch them without feeling as much as a sting of physical pain.
Did that really mean that he was … one of them? Could he really be the offspring of such dreadful creatures or was he simply cursed? This is all wrong, thought Loki, his heart almost leaping out of his chest. He gasped for breath but his chest felt so very tight.
"Loki."
He turned halfway when he felt the warmth of his mother's presence.
"Am I cursed?" Loki asked softly, the words almost dying on his tongue.
"No," Frigga answered, her voice as soothing as the first rays of sunshine on a warm spring day.
"What is wrong with me?" Loki whispered, unable to let go of the casket.
Frigga walked over to him, her steps echoing off the dark, cold walls of the weapon's vault. Loki stood frozen until she had reached him and placed a warm hand on his trembling shoulders.
Loki swallowed and turned to face his mother, unshed tears blurring his vision. "What am I?"
Frigga's right hand traveled from his shoulder to his right hand that was still clasping the casket and gently pried open his tightly clenched fingers. With her other hand, she caressed his left arm until he let go of the casket and then pulled him into a tight motherly embrace that calmed his racing heart at least a little.
"You are my son," Frigga replied, her hands rubbing his back.
As soothing as her comfort was and as much as he longed to bury his head in her collarbone as he done when he was a child, Loki squirmed free, the coldness streaming through his body shaking his world to its very foundations. "What more than that?"
"I wish I could have told you the truth from the beginning," Frigga said softly, her face pinched with pain, despair and regret. She reached for his hands again, but her hands stopped mid-movement when she saw him flinch.
Loki stumbled backwards, gasping for breath. The physical coldness inside his veins began to recede but a mental coldness remained inside his heart, chilling him to the core. "Tell me now," he demanded, his breath hitching because he did not know how he would ever be able to handle the answer.
Frigga's lips trembled.
"Am I a Frost Giant?" Loki asked, nearly choking on the words.
A shadow clouded his mother's face. "Yes," Frigga conceded. "You are the bloodson of Laufey."
The words slammed into Loki's gut with the force of a mace. Every nerve in his brain seemed to catch fire all at once. He wanted to speak but words failed him.
"Odin found you abandoned in a temple on Jotunheim after the last great battle," Frigga continued softly. "You were still a baby. It appears Laufey had abandoned you to die, suffering alone in the cold. Odin decided to take you in and raise you as his own."
"Why?" Loki squeezed out in a trembling voice, his chest tight with disbelief, fear, disappointment and hatred. "He was knee-deep in Jotun blood. Why would he take me?"
"You were an innocent child," Frigga replied, taking a step closer towards him. When he did not recoil, she inched closer until she stood right in front of him, her face mere inches from his quivering cheeks. "Loki," she whispered, gently placing her hand on his cheek. "I asked him to be honest with you from the beginning. I told him that there should be no secrets in the family."
"Then why did he lie?" Loki asked, the tears he had tried so frantically to hold back finally spilling out of his eyes, streaming down his cheeks. "Why did you?"
"We decided to keep the truth from you so would never feel different," Frigga said, the softness of her voice slicing right through his heart. "You are our son, Loki. And we your family." She paused, tears beginning to shimmer in her eyes. "You must know that. You must know that we love you. That I love you." A rueful smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "With all my heart."
Loki half-gulped, half-choked. "But I am different. I-I am a monster. A monster," he whimpered as the horrendous visages of Laufey and the other Frost Giants flashed before his inner eye.
Frigga put her arms around his trembling body and pulled him towards her chest, cuddling him tight. "You are not a monster."
All his emotional defenses crumbled away and Loki slumped, sagging against his mother's chest. "But wh-what am I to him? No m-more than another st-stolen relic?" he asked between sobs so violent that they were ripping through his entire body. "Am I l-locked up here until he m-might have use of me? Wh-what exactly is my purpose here?"
"You are the second prince," said Frigga, her grip around his shoulders tightening.
"That's a lie!" Loki shouted as he squirmed himself out of his mother's embrace once more even though he so desperately longed for the comfort of her touch. "Even if harm should ever come to Thor, Odin would never have a Frost Giant sitting on the throne of Asgard!" Loki let out a breath, his vision blurry with tears and rage and hopelessness. He staggered under the weight of his emotions and eventually sank to his knees.
Frigga gasped out in horror, whispering his name.
"I am not a prince," Loki growled softly, suddenly feeling another kind of coldness wash through him. It was a mental coldness; spawn of the dark thoughts that had assailed his mind for the longest time. "I am not really an heir to the throne. I am a Frost Giant. I am the m-monster that parents tell their children about at n-night!"
Frigga knelt down beside him, fiercely grabbing his shoulders with her hands. "Loki, please," she whispered. "You are not a monster. You are my son!"
Loki looked up at her, torn between the hatred he felt blasting through his nervous system and the longing for her comforting touch. "You might say now that I am not a monster," he said, his voice cold and devoid of any emotion as he looked Frigga right in the eye, "yet I don't recall you ever disagreeing with your precious husband when he told us bedtime stories about how malicious, deceptive and inherently mentally twisted the Frost Giants were."
Frigga looked taken aback for the fracture of a second but she recovered quickly, her grip on his shoulders intensifying. "I understand your pain and your confusion but you have nothing in common with them," she whispered. "You grew up here, Loki. You grew up as a member of the Royal Family of Asgard. You might not be my son by blood but I was the one who raised you, fed you, nurtured you and loved you. I was the one who comforted you when you were crying at night. I was the one who taught you to speak, to walk, to use magic. You might not be Asgardian by nature, but you certrainly are Asgardian by nurture. My nurture."
Loki choked.
Frigga grabbed his face and brushed away a fresh stream of tears. "I am so terribly sorry we lied. You have every right to be flustered by our dishonesty but, please, do not ever doubt that I see you as my son and that I love you and will always do so, no matter where your biological origins might lie."
Loki wanted to reply but all that came out was a desperate squeak.
"Come here," said Frigga as she cradled him to her chest once more. "I can only imagine how hard this must be for you."
Loki gulped for breath between violent sobs, burying his head deep into her bosom. Frigga pressed him ever closer, holding him as if she knew he would break if she let go. "I am here for you, son," she whispered. "I will always be here for you. Nothing is ever going to change the fact that I am your mother."
"But what of Thor," Loki whimpered, his voice trailing off.
Frigga gave him a comforting squeeze. "We are going to tell him together once he returns. He will understand because he too loves you. You will see."
Loki gave a hesitant nod against his mother's chest. Feeling the warmth of her skin against his cheek and hearing the regular beating of her heart, he allowed himself to believe that she was right and eventually, his tears ran dry and the lump in his throat began to dissolve.
~°~ The End ~°~