You've Got Sucker's Luck
Chapter 35
Loki's mouth curved into a mercurial smile as the sound of a familiar footfall reached his ears. He ceased his pacing and turned, smile broadening further when he spotted Brynn cautiously making her way towards his cell.
"Why, hello, pet," he greeted her pleasantly.
She flinched, faltering mid-step. 'Pet' had never featured among the ranks of his many nicknames for her, and her expression grew wary as she struggled to decide whether this latest addition was intended to be an endearment, or simply demeaning.
He said nothing, basking in her confusion.
Do not waste your energies on the mortal, my king.
Why not? he challenged. He directed his thoughts to where he held the scepter lightly gripped in one hand. In absentia of Fury's empty promises of reading material, how else was he to amuse himself while Thor and his minions debated their next move?
Besides, it was delicious, seeing the fear churning in the depths of her eyes. The hesitancy, the uncertainty – she knew not whom, nor what she about to confront. Stupidity was the only driving force that compelled her to stand before him now.
Brynn rallied her courage and crept closer.
He gazed through the glass confines of his cell, watching intently as she made her approach. The harsh glare from the overhead lights cast a greenish hue over his surroundings but nothing – scepter included – could blind him to the sight of her the moment she rounded the corner.
His tongue darted forward, moistening his lower lip as his eyes traveled over her.
Gone were her peasants' rags; the creature walking towards him was clad in denim and crisp cotton, and Loki was uncertain which was the greater crime – the mouthwatering cut of her blouse, which fell just low enough to tease at the bounty concealed beneath the folds of deep green, or that she was clothed at all.
Now is not the time to toy with your mortal drudge.
His attention snapped back into focus, and the hunger in his eyes cooled.
"What?" Brynn asked finally, growing visibly uncomfortable with his scrutiny.
"You look well, my lady," Loki praised. His tone was mocking but the compliment was genuine; he could scarcely take his eyes off her. Employing sarcasm to conceal his desire, he continued, "Were these sartorial affectations for my benefit?"
Insolence prevailed over fear, and her face darkened into a scowl.
"Skinny jeans and flats aren't half as affectatious as gold-and-leather armor, dummy," she retorted.
His chin kicked back with a hearty laugh, delighted by this sudden show of gumption. There she was – his scrappy little queen.
She is a plaything. She will kneel, along with all the rest, under our new regime.
And playthings are meant to be played with, Loki countered.
"Ah, so this is for my benefit!" he gloated out loud, still chuckling. "Well done. One could almost be convinced you were a proper female. A word of advice, however," he casually leaned forward, "in the future, if you truly wish to make your appearance more tolerable to me," his voice dropped to a hiss, "wear a dress."
Whatever had prompted her change in attire – hoping to catch his attention, perhaps, or a first step towards reclaiming her sense of self – the cruelty in his smile struck true, and her face fell.
"Noted," she mumbled, looking down at the floor.
Loki tutted and shook his head.
"Oh, come now, pet," he scolded teasingly. "No need to pout. Now, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"
Brynn continued to examine her shoes.
"Well, say something," he prompted, growing impatient. "Surely you didn't come all this way for me to stare at your feet."
He waited again, irritation mounting – until it occurred to him that her prolonged silence was not simply the result of bullheaded obstinance.
A frisson of alarm burned down his spine.
"Brynn," he said sharply.
Frustrated, he moved closer to the glass, trying to ignore the phantom sensation of a little plastic button beneath his thumb, and fighting the instinct to seek out the cheap timepiece that had dominated too much of his mind in recent days.
His eyes unconsciously drifted to her left wrist, then sharpened.
Where was her watch...?
A crack of thunder, the hiss of depressurized air, and next he knew he was no longer puzzling over the mysterious absence of Brynn's Timex, but instead found himself knocked flat on his back, pinned to the floor beneath the crushing weight of Mjolnir.
He turned his head, stunned, and saw Thor hovering at the open entrance to his cell. And there, standing in apparent newfound solidarity with his brother, also waited his miraculously recovered lady love.
Tricked, and betrayed – by a mortal, no less. Will you ever learn, my king?
He clamped his hand around the scepter and shot Brynn accusing sneer.
"Clever," he grunted, schooling his humiliation behind a bitter smile, "using him as your cur."
She looked steadily back at him but made no reply. Scowling, he directed his anger at Thor instead and spat, "You broke your promise, brother. Such conviction you'd had! Vowing that you would protect her above all else." He bared his teeth, "And yet here you are, personally escorting her into the monster's lair."
Mournful blue eyes, identical in color to Loki's own – another of the Allfather's deliberate deceptions! – met his.
"Leave us!" he ordered, furiously struggling against the hammer where it rested on his chest.
Thor ignored him and turned to put a hand on Brynn's shoulder, a gesture that filled Loki with such jealous rage that he actually came an inch off of the floor.
"Do not touch her!" he roared, then collapsed back, panting.
"Be careful," Thor cautioned Brynn, ignoring Loki. His voice was deadly sober. "I will be right outside.
"I'll be careful," she promised.
He gave her shoulder a quick squeeze, worriedly glanced back at Loki, and went to leave, calling Mjolnir to his hand just as the chamber door sealed shut behind him.
"Are you okay?" Brynn asked as soon as they were alone. She walked a few steps closer, fretful.
"Splendid," he muttered, stiffly rising to his feet.
The concern he heard in the little fool's voice should have repulsed him, and yet he wanted to rest his head in her lap and preen.
Straightening, he smirked and swept an arm out in a mocking half-bow.
"Do forgive the lack of amenities," he told her sarcastically, "Ordinarily I am an impeccable host, but I am afraid you're calling upon me at a terribly inopportune time."
Brynn tried for a nervous smile.
"I wasn't expecting tea and crumpets or anything like that, if that's what you mean."
Her pathetic attempt at levity fell flat and he cocked his head, regarding her smugly.
"So. You've allied yourself with my brother." He flashed a thin smile. "Well, you certainly wouldn't be the first to switch sides. Perhaps someday I shall stop being surprised."
"But I - " Brynn stammered, not understanding. "I haven't switched sides."
Her open-mouthed astonishment was almost believable.
"Thor's trying –"
"I must say I admire your courage, however," he mused, ignoring her false protestations. He began to circle her slowly, subtly edging her closer and closer towards the rear of the chamber. "There are not many who would take on such a risk given your… history." He deliberately inclined his head in the direction of the scepter, still gripped tightly in his hand.
Blank-faced confusion twisted into a familiar scowl, and a trace of sullen resentment filled Brynn's eyes.
"We both know that thing doesn't have to touch me to take me over," she shakily pointed out, continuing to inch away as he relentlessly crept nearer. "And even if it wanted to, it already would've done it by now and I'd be seizing out on the floor."
A tempting prospect. Shall I?
Loki's eyes flared red.
As you wish.
"Indeed, you certainly would be," he chuckled aloud.
He had her cornered now, and she pressed back into the glass as he musingly remarked, "It is a pity, is it not? That your mind is so damaged that you will never know peace? Real peace?" He tsked, chin held high, and reached out to glide a finger along her cheek as he crooned, "My poor little queen."
She cringed at his touch, but he would not be satisfied until he made her weep.
"And to think," he murmured, tenderly leaning close to whisper in her ear, "You could have been so – much – more."
She began to tremble.
"Look at you," he continued, drawing back, "What they've reduced you to. Sending you in as bait. As chattel. Nothing more than a desperate distraction to give them time to assemble their band of heroes." His mouth split into a patronizing smile. "They've set you up, you know," he told her confidingly, "Thor, and the rest of those whom you claim as allies."
Brynn's chin quivered as she looked up at him, and he grinned recklessly back, daring her search to his eyes.
"Are you even in there?" she finally whispered.
"Oh, pet..." He leered, observing the throb of her racing pulse in her throat, savoring her fear as he would the finest of wines. "Are you so blinded by your affections for me that you cannot tell who I truly am?"
She doggedly shook her head and gestured to the scepter.
"I think that thing is telling you who you truly aren't," she answered, voice quavering.
"Is it?" He snickered and turned away to peer at the door, trying to gauge the best path to take when opportunity struck for him to make his escape. He could faintly hear shouting in the hallways beyond – Thor, no doubt, futilely trying to buy Brynn sufficient time to carry out their collective scheme.
"You will not distract me," he declared, squaring his shoulders. A bead of sweat dripped into his eyes and he impatiently swept it away. "The Bifrost is restored; my path to the Tesseract is clear. This time, I will succeed. This time, you will all kneel."
"What's a tesseract?"
Brynn sounded genuinely baffled. He glanced over, a scornful laugh escaping his chest when he saw her bewilderment.
"They've not told you?"
She shook her head.
"Then permit me to remedy your ever-present ignorance, madam," he cuttingly replied, pouring salt over the wounds of her insecurities and grinding it in. "Futile as the effort may be considering your...deficiencies. None of your own making, true, but -"
"Shut up!"
Loki paused, lifting a brow.
Brynn stood before him with her eyes squeezed shut, hands clenched into fists at her sides. She had torn free of his web of verbal humiliation, and her voice escalated into a scream as she finished, "Shut up, shut up, shut up!"
He waited out this childish display, seething, then gave her a look of absolute boredom when she concluded her tantrum.
"All done?" he caustically inquired.
Brynn ignored the jibe and took a cautious step towards him.
"Loki, it's me," she earnestly exclaimed. "You know me! You've seen everything in my head, you know I'm not your enemy –"
"You, mortal, are not worthy of being my enemy," he scoffed. "Now step aside."
"Mortal?" she repeated incredulously.
He sneered and went to push past her, then shoved her aside when she refused to move.
"Hey!" she barked, storming after him. "You don't get to do that, not with me!"
Loki rounded on her with a growl, gnashing his teeth. The blood drained from her face, but she defiantly stood her ground as he stalked forward and came to stand looming over her.
Cut her down. Make her kneel at your feet. She was made to be ruled!
He roughly seized Brynn's chin in his grasp and began to lean closer, eyes contemptuously knifing into hers as he drew closer.
"Loki, wait —" she choked.
"Don't," he whispered, now within a hairsbreadth of her mouth, "ever," his lips grazed hers with a feather-light touch, "tell me what to do." His grip tightened, fingers and thumb pressing carefully into her jaw as he coldly finished, "You are nothing, 'Sabrina fair' — you impudent chit."
Brynn's eyes suddenly narrowed to slits, and she slapped him, hard.
Loki's feverish gaze blackened.
"Woman, you will heed me –"
"No, you'll heed me, you stupid bastard," she snarled. She reached out, fisting the green lapels of his surcoat in her hand, and hauled him down to eye level.
"Stop and think!" she hissed, getting right in his face and speaking fast while she still had his attention. "You're smarter than this! You're smarter than everybody! I don't give a shit about your plans, and SHIELD can hang for all I care. But," her voice caught, "I'll be damned if I let some glorified hockey stick take you away from me."
And then she did what neither Loki nor the scepter had accounted for:
She kissed him.
Shudders wracked every fiber in his body and into the very depths of his broken soul the moment Brynn's lips touched his. He froze, wide-eyed in shock – then his lids helplessly fluttered closed when she deepened the kiss and her hand came up to cradle his cheek.
You're wonderful. And I would spend every day telling you that for the rest of your life if I could, because it's true.
Her nearness alone was its own sweet balm. She smelled of sunlight and fresh air and nivale flowers at dusk – of home. Not the gleaming splendor of Asgard, but quiet moments spent in simpler havens, and holding his world as she lay asleep in his arms at night.
I trust you. And I don't think you could hurt me even if you tried.
Soft fingertips tenderly traced the line of his jaw, and he leaned into her touch with a weary, longing sigh. His white-knuckled grip on the scepter slackened. Hesitantly, his free hand drifted to her waist, and she slid her other arm around his neck, stepping onto the toes of his boots to close as much of the distance between them as possible.
I'd like to see it through to the end...but slow.
He pulled her closer, mouth eagerly responding to hers -
The jewel of the scepter began to brighten. His hand tightened around it once more, but just as he was about to twist away, Brynn suddenly dropped her arm down from his shoulders, and then he felt the barrel of a weapon press into his temple.
His eyes flew open.
Her tears were the last thing he saw before she pulled the trigger of the ICER.
He drifted, for a time.
Seconds.
Eons.
(Did it matter?)
He was trying to decide if this was a rhetorical question when he thought to open his eyes and was greeted by a riot of color – his mother's gardens, kept up as they had been when she was alive. Beneath him he could feel the cold damp of grass, above him he saw nothing but crystalline blue sky.
Was this Valhalla…?
"No," he gasped.
He scrambled to sit up, breathing hard. One hand flew to his temple, frantically pressing into the skin in search of a wound – the possibility that Brynn might have killed him never entered his mind; his only thought was that in his death she had been left abandoned once more.
"Hello, my love."
His blood ran cold.
He knew this voice, knew it as vividly as his own, but had been unable to recall it since their parting, no matter how desperately he tried during so many sleepless nights.
Forcing his breathing to slow – and struggling to stave off the waves of panic threatening to crash over him – he turned to greet Frigga with his most arrogant smile.
"So," he sniffed. "Odin kept his word. How magnanimous of him."
His mother let out a familiar, exasperated sigh.
"Mind your tongue, Loki."
He threw her a look of such petulance that for a moment he appeared more boy than man, and she laughed – the very same warm, musical laugh that he had longed to hear just one more time - and yet now all he wanted to do was cover his ears, lest he cast aside his bitter airs of pretense and collapse in her embrace instead.
Frigga reached forward and gently clasped his face in her hands, still smiling.
"Oh, how I have missed you," she murmured. She raptly studied his features, taking in every detail in his countenance since she had last gazed upon him.
Whatever she saw seemed to please her.
"Am I dead?" he asked bluntly.
"No," she reassured, shaking her head. "The Convergence thinned the barriers between the realms, here and there. These points of weakness are in constant flux, but occasionally we can influence their location."
Loki's jaw tightened.
"Who is 'we?'"
"Your father and me, of course," she answered calmly.
Your father.
He pulled away, snarling, "If you have ever claimed to love me, do not speak of that –"
"You will do me the courtesy of not interrupting me until I am finished," Frigga crisply admonished, "After which you are welcome to argue with me as much as you please. Now, sit."
A stone bench materialized beside them. Still half-caught in the mindset of an errant child facing a consequence, Loki unthinkingly obeyed. Frigga gracefully sat beside him, then gathered his hands in both of hers and spoke.
"Odin was a wonderful husband," she began, "but, oh my darling, he was sorely lacking as a father."
"A title he was all too eager to toss aside," Loki spat, unmoved. "Which you would know, had you not been so quick to obey his — how did he put it...?" He paused to feign a momentary lapse in memory. "Ah, yes – 'I wish to speak to the prisoner alone.'"
Frigga's eyes hardened.
"You are as much of a fool as he to believe I was not present at your sentencing. Or have you forgotten it was I who taught you invisibility incantations?"
Chastened, Loki sullenly shook his head.
"What he said and what he did that day was wrong," she firmly declared. "It was a moment when he needed to be your father and not your sovereign – a mistake he made too many times."
"There is a difference between a making mistake and committing an act outright cruelty," Loki challenged, stung by her willingness to continue making excuses for Odin's actions, "You claim to have been there – do you not remember? His casting me out as his son? Telling me my birthright was to die?"
"I do remember, my darling," she answered sadly, squeezing his hands. "And I am so very sorry."
Tears began to shimmer in her eyes and for the first time she seemed in danger of losing her composure, but he could not bring himself to care.
"Our family was being wrenched apart," she choked, "and I knew not what to think or do – it happened so quickly! And then it was over, and they were leading you away, tearing you away from me – from me! I, your mother! Who was supposed to protect you in all things –"
Her voice trailed off.
"There wasn't anything you could have done," he said, voice dull. He looked down at where she held his hands cradled in her lap. "You of all people know that when Odin's mind was made up, there was no changing it."
"Let us just say it was a miracle your father did not lose his other eye that day, along with his tongue," Frigga muttered.
"Well, there always did seem to be a shortage of miracles laying around whenever I was involved," Loki acidly shot back.
"I am not trying to make excuses, Loki, for myself, or your father," she said quietly. "Truly, I am not."
"Then why bring me here?" he asked, still unconvinced.
"To provide you with context," she answered imploringly. "Are you able to listen?"
He let out a humorless bark of laughter, unexpectedly torn between spending every possible minute as he could with his mother, or making the most of the opportunity to spew vitriol at her feet.
"Surely you see the irony in asking me such a question," he replied, mouth curving into a bitter smirk as he lifted his eyes to meet hers. "To listen. When no one listened to me when Thor bought me back, so much as even asked me what had happened, but threw me straight into the dungeons to rot– "
"Odin never had any intention of imprisoning you for the rest of your life," Frigga interrupted.
"Yes, well, he certainly had peculiar way of expressing his intentions," Loki snapped, tearing his hands free. He angrily shot to his feet and stormed a few paces away, then turned back around. "Quite the irony, too - that Odin Allfather, Son of Bor and ruler of the Nine Realm of Yggdrasil needed to work on his communication skills."
"Death has the benefit of granting one a perspective that can only be found after one takes one's last breath," Frigga replied as she watched Loki agitatedly half-circle the bench. "That has especially been the case of your father, who was as short-sighted as he was powerful."
"Nobody's perfect," he jeered.
"I suppose we do all have to be something," she mildly agreed.
Even through the heat of his fury, he caught the twinkle in her eye, and for a moment mother and son both wore the same fleeting smile.
Frigga reached down and patted the spot beside her.
"Please," she requested. "Our time grows short."
He gritted his teeth but did as she asked – and felt a subsequent pang of regret when her hands remained clasped in her lap.
"Loki, our love for you has no scope or limit," Frigga told him sincerely. "Likewise, our failures to you as well. And it cannot be denied that the mistakes we made when you were growing up were part of your decision to end your life that day on the Bridge.
"Coming to terms with that realization – of looking back over the years and seeing so many signs we missed, second guessing ourselves, wondering that maybe, maybe you would still have been alive had we only told you the truth from the start – it was…"
Her hand went to her mouth and she shuddered, suddenly stricken with grief.
Morbid curiosity compelled Loki to watch from the corner of his eye as his mother fought back tears. He did not doubt her earnestness, but he found it impossible to believe Odin had truly mourned either of his deaths.
Beside him, Frigga had regained her composure and was starting to resume her story.
"It was agony," she reflected. "Our good intentions orchestrated our own worst nightmare. That could not – cannot – be denied. But we did deny it, all the same. And then tried assuage our grief by deluding ourselves into believing we had set you on the right path. Telling ourselves that whatever led you astray after your fall was purely due to choices of your own making. The alternative – the truth – it could not bear thinking about. But," her voice hardened, "we should have endured that pain, and accepted those truths, and the results of our own inaction."
"Fine words," Loki scoffed when she fell silent. Anger had been a familiar friend for years, at times his only friend, and he clung to it now rather than be swayed by such claims. "Surely you can see the hypocrisy," he added, voice escalating to a shout, "claiming me as your son in one breath, then locking me away to rot with the next!"
Frigga placed a steadying hand on his knee.
"Let me finish," she gently urged. "If not for my sake, then Brynn's."
The utter improbability of hearing Brynn's name fall from his mother's lips sent his mind reeling, snatching the air from his lungs, along with his indignation.
He numbly sat back down.
"In the dungeons, we knew you were safe," she explained. "We thought we had lost you, my darling. We panicked, by going to whatever lengths possible to ensure that you were protected – both from yourself...and whatever other forces were at work."
"And the only way to accomplish this was a life sentence?" he incredulously exclaimed.
An odd smile touched her mouth.
"Odin allowed himself to be carried away by his anger that day," she bluntly acknowledged. "But throughout it all, and in the days after, was his assumption that we had the luxury of time."
Loki's brow knotted in puzzlement.
"He thought a few years in the dungeons would give us the opportunity to heal, as a family," she clarified, seeing his confusion. "We could not undo any of our mistakes, but we could try to make amends."
We could try to make amends…
His imagination seized this notion and rapidly began running amok with what ifs, until he noticed a cluster of nivale blooming nearby, and tears began streaming down his cheeks.
"Why did you never tell me?" he rasped.
"Cowardice," Frigga admitted. She lifted the gauzy hem of her skirt and began to wipe his face dry. "At first we thought you too young to understand. But as you grew, we realized that if you were to one day to rule Jotunheim, we could not keep you sheltered within the palace walls, which meant your ears – and Thor's - inevitably being poisoned by others' prejudice.
"You eventually came of age, of course," she started dabbing his other cheek, "and the day arrived when were old enough to understand, but we still kept putting it off. The time never seemed right, and you already felt so different. Regardless…"
She drew her hand back and regarded him pensively for a moment, then regretfully shook her head.
"We did you no favors, hiding your heritage from you, and we were wrong to do it. But of all that I have told you today, try to remember this..." She reached forward again and tenderly cradled his cheek in her palm. "I loved you the moment I laid eyes on you, as did your father." Her face dimpled, remembering. "His fierce little snow flurry."
Hearing his long-forgotten childhood nickname brought a painful lump to his throat, stirring up memories of a time when a king could still openly laugh at his son's mischief and did not have to hide his smiles at court.
Frigga's smile gentled.
"Loki, Thor's actions that day on Jotunheim put an end to your father's dream of peace with their realm," she told him softly, "but that did not put an end to his dream of you."
"Then why curse me?" he rasped, voice gravelly from fighting back sobs.
The warmth in his mother's eyes faded.
"It is not a curse."
"My own magic drains away my life force!" he protested, "I've what, another sixty, seventy years –"
"It protects you from the Titan," she interrupted.
A solitary cloud passed overhead, chilling the air.
"The enchantment Odin placed upon you conceals your presence throughout all of Yggdrasil and beyond," she explained, grave-faced. "It is a formidable piece of magic, one that necessitated power beyond even your father's abilities. With my assistance, it could have been done, but Malekith's arrival..."
Frigga's tactful pause did not keep Loki from leaning forward and burying his face in his palms.
Her hand gently came to rest against his hair.
"After me, you were the only one in all of Asgard who possessed enough Seidr to aid your father and see the spell through to completion," he heard her say. "But he was approaching the Odinsleep. He had sufficient strength to invoke the spell, but not enough to sustain it as we had intended."
"Could he not have said something?" Loki cried plaintively, lifting his face.
Frigga's eyes softened.
"He preferred you to hate him, rather than burden yourself further with the guilt of my death."
Loki's shoulders slumped, and his head fell into his hands once more.
For the second time in his life, the checks and balances of what he defined as his own reality had been irrevocably smashed apart. It was up to him now, how to fit the pieces back together, and decide which shards to hold onto or leave behind. Distantly, he remembered Brynn's words the day she had wept into his shoulder, frightened and overwhelmed by the world in which she now found herself –
I can't keep up anymore. It's just too much, and I'm getting lost in all of it...
Let me be your anchor, he had told her.
He hoped she might be willing to return the favor.
"I'm still angry," he said, speaking into his palms. "At you. At all of you."
"Your anger is justified," Frigga remarked. "Our mistakes give you little cause to look back on us with any great joy."
He peered down at the grass between his fingers and watched the mist slowly collecting at their feet.
"It's exhausting," he confessed after a long moment. "And I'll never be free of it."
Frigga's arm came around his shoulders, and he did not resist as she pulled him fully into her embrace.
"Loki, the sun will shine on us again," she said fiercely, holding him tight. "Let it start with you."
Despite being overwrought with emotion, he refused to tolerate such maudlin sentiment and went to make a quick retort, but the lump in his throat strangled his reply.
"You might want to save the weather-related metaphors for Thor — hey!"
She had lightly swatted him in the back of the head.
"Must you always have the last word?" she scolded, drawing away with a huff.
"In matters concerning Thor?" he said, peevish. "Yes."
His mother fixed him with a stern frown of reproach, then broke into laughter when she saw him smirk. Smiling fondly, she nudged him towards her again, and leaned up to place a kiss on his brow, just as she had countless times before when he was a child.
Pinpricks of Seidr – equal parts foreign as it was bizarrely familiar – violently shot into his skin, as if he had been immersed in buzzing swarm of insects.
He jerked away, sputtering, "What - what did you -"
"A gift," she told him. "From me."
"Another curse?" he grunted crossly as the itchy tingles subsided. This was just his luck; encountering his mother in a fever dream and coming away with nothing to show for it but a rash.
An amused look crossed her face.
"I suppose that depends on how you look at it," she answered thoughtfully. "But as your father used to say, there's not a riddle in the World Tree that you couldn't solve."
Loki opened his mouth to object at such a cryptic reply, but behind his mother's shoulder, the cascades of blossoms and flowering trees were washing into a soft blur of grey and brown.
His eyes flew to Frigga's. Hundreds of questions raced through his head, but of them all, only two were of any real import.
"Will I see you again?" he blurted out.
She kissed his cheek and rose from the bench, but kept hold of his hand.
"One thing at a time," she told him softly.
"Mother," he faltered, "Do you – do you like her?"
Frigga's face lit up in a dazzling smile.
"I adore her," she emphatically declared, "And it is time you returned to her side. Be well, my love."
Loki tightened his grasp on her hand but all too soon her fingers slipped free, and she disappeared in the mist.
AN: I know the end of this chapter may read as a bunch of rosy revisionist history. That's not the intent; all is not forgiven, and the dysfunction junction that is the Odinson clan hasn't been neatly tied up in a trim little bow. Here is the TL; DR of why...
I wanted to dig deeper than Odin and Frigga being portrayed as villains. I approached it from the angle that they were flawed but loving parents whose good intentions went horrifically awry – and then from there, I set out to:
1) Explore what might have gone on behind the scenes that would put a completely different spin on what was depicted in the films.
2) Still keep everything in canon with Loki's perspective.
The dream sequence isn't supposed to be a feel-good mother-son reunion. Frigga is not seeking Loki's absolution (she knows she doesn't have the right to even ask for it), but she's trying to spare him from a lifetime of being haunted by misperceptions about his place in their family. She is there to acknowledge her and Odin's mistakes, apologize, and give Loki insight about what happened after his fall from the bridge. To be fair, what she shared will only lead to more questions, but now he's equipped him with better information if he ever decides to try and seek out the answers.
Also, info on the ICER for anyone who hasn't watched Agents of SHIELD - go to marvelcinematicuniverse dot fandom dot com