~~March 24, 1960~~
Hel stood in the corner of the maternity delivery room in St. Mungo's, watching as her father was born to her favorite descendent. She really shouldn't have favorites, and she always tried so hard to show her children the same love and care, but she did have her favorites. Charlus was such a good and talented man; it was a shame when he was cursed. She was still trying to track the false ally and had it narrowed down to about ten different men, but she thought she knew who it was. She just couldn't prove it...yet. As a baby's cry broke, she smiled. Her father was right in a way; he really was his own grandpa.
Dorea had a few complications due to her age, so Hel went up to her and pushed her death magic away, searching for that little bit of healing magic that all Asgardians had; just a little push should jump-start her natural healing. She looked down at the Midgardian version of her father, he looked a little blue and was slightly worried, but as Dorea held him, his color returned. "He was like that as a baby." A voice said from behind her.
"Queen Frigga," Hel affirmed, looking at her grandmother, knowing that none of the magical could see, hear, or feel them in the room.
"He would turn blue for a short, short moment before reestablishing his pink skin," Frigga stated as she cooed at the baby. "It's the Jötunn in him."
"Jötunn?" Hel stated, confused, "I thought father was an Asgardian."
"Child, all Asgardians are Jötunn," Frigga stated. "Like on Midgard, there are all shapes, sizes, and colors of Jötunn."
"But... Asgardians and Jötunn come from different worlds." Hel stated, still startled by what her grandmother was telling her.
"We originally came from Jötunheimr, but due to civil war, we left and founded a city-state that we named Asgard."
"But..." Hel started still flabbergasted at what she was learning.
Frigga smiled softly at Hel. "It always comes down to racism. People, no matter what country, planet, or culture, we always suffer from racism and stupidity. In our case, we were the wrong size for Jötunn, the wrong color for Jötunn, we worshiped the wrong Gods, at the point where we still worshiped Gods before we started believing we were Gods."
"In Loki's case, because he was so tiny...because he kept changing how he looked...because he kept changing what sex he was...his birth parents abandoned him; in the middle of a battle, thinking we, Asgardians, would kill an infant for them." Frigga sighed. "This was before Odin lost the last bit of his humanity; he picked the infant up and brought him home to me. We adopted him."
"Does father know?" Hel asked.
"No." Frigga sighed again. "I wanted to tell him when he was little, so he adjusted to the idea, but Odin forbid me, forbid anyone who knew from telling him. I'm afraid he will not react well when he does find out."
"Is this why Odin believes Loki always has monsters for children? Because he was born a Jötunn?" Hel asked.
"More than likely," Frigga stated sadly. "There are many different tribes of Jötunn, we the Aesir tribe, our history is quite like the history of the tribe they call Jews here on Midgard. Those with the ability to shapeshift are from another tribe, and those with the ability to wield magic with more power generally come from another tribe. The ones we call Frost Giants were the largest and politically most powerful, but all the tribes interbred with one another. Until the Frost Giants noticed that every other generation was getting shorter, closer to the height of all the rest of the tribes. We were becoming close to being the same; being equal. They didn't like that, and a mad man started pushing for racial purity. We lost, so the tribes scattered to the different planets in the nine realms."
"That makes so much sense...in death, we are all equal," Hel stated, even the Midgardians.
"Your father has several different tribes in his DNA, which is why he is so talented. It's also why Odin is so jealous. Why many Asgardians are jealous and maltreat him for it. I do hope his stint here on Midgard will help temper Loki a little bit. Out of all the tribe, those that settled and mated with the locals here on Midgard were the mildest of us, the gentlest, the least warlike." Frigga stated as she watched baby Loki and his new family interact.
Hel snorted at that fact, knowing how warlike the Midgardians really were.
"Are you jealous of Charlus and Dorea?" Hel asked.
"A little bit, it would be nice to have a baby in the palace again, but at the same time, I know they are family. Charlus is your descendent; you are Loki's daughter, my granddaughter. They are family."
~~December 1981~~
Loki sat in his room singing himself a lullaby*-still grounded by his father to his room like a child-softly singing as he sat in his window seat. The windows were thrown wide open, so he could breathe the fresh air and look down on his favorite palace garden. Tears trailed down his face as he held tightly to a pillow getting as much comfort from it as possible.
"That is beautiful, Loki," Frigga said from the doorway to Loki's suite.
"He was beautiful," Loki said, not looking at his mother, staring out into the garden.
Frigga came and sat down at the other end of the window seat, "Oh, the gardeners have been neglecting this garden; it is so overgrown." Frigga said in dismay.
"No, they haven't," Loki stated. "I asked them to 'neglect' it; I like this garden's wild, carefree look. The long windswept grass, the wild willow tree with branches touching the sky and the ground. The small creek that snakes and meanders slowly through." Loki stated. He finally turned his tear-stained face towards his mother. "Why do I miss him more than her? She was my wife, the love of my life?"
"She was a Midgardian, and their lives are so short compared to ours. Even though you forgot you were Loki, Prince of Asgard, you still subconsciously knew that you would outlive her. However, you also knew that he wasn't Midgardian; he was an Asgardian. His magic matched our magic." Frigga stated as she looked at the garden again. "You are right. This garden is almost perfect, but it is missing some flowers. I will send someone to Midgard to pick up some... Lily's, Lilac's, Hyacinth's, and some Gardenias. Then it will be perfect."
"Mother, this is a man's garden. We don't need flowers in a man's garden." Loki choked out, trying to be masculine like his father would demand, but secretly loving his mother was trying to honor his late wife. Loki huffed, "I understand the Lily, but why the rest?"
"Lilac's symbolize youthful innocence, Hyacinth's symbolize playfulness, and Gardenia's symbolized children and family." Frigga.
"It also says, "You've made my life complete (Lily-of-the-Valley), with your youthful innocence (Lilac's-white), please forgive me (Hyacinth-purple), my secret love (Gardenia). In the language of the flowers." Loki stated with a choked laugh. "Lily loved the language of the flowers."
"It is fitting, isn't it," Frigga said. "Perhaps we should pick up some Tea Roses also."
"I'll remember, always," Loki whispered. "Mother, why are you here?" Loki asked.
"I want you to join us for dinner tonight," Frigga stated.
"So, Odin has deemed I've been grounded to my room long enough." Loki snorted.
"No, but I don't care. You can ignore your father and enjoy a nice dinner with your family, can't you? I do so miss you, and if you are feeling up to it...your brothers and I would love to learn more about your Lily and Harry."
"I don't know if I can!" Loki cried out in anguish.
Frigga was across the seat, holding her son as he sobbed his heart out. "It will take time, my love, and the pain will never truly go away, but it will get easier." Frigga held her son and started to hum the tune she heard him singing earlier, rocking him. Her baby, the most fragile of all her children, the strongest of all her children. The one the most like her, her secret favorite.
AN: The Lullaby Loki sings Good Night by the Beatles is found on Youtube.
