"Loki, please listen to me." Frigga's voice was quiet, her hand reaching out to Loki's. He pulled it away, eyes cast on the gold flooring. He didn't know why he'd come back to begin with; there was nothing left for him here. Nothing except . . . His mother reached out to take his arm anyway, squeezing his skin with her thin hands. They felt frail, and he half wondered if she was not pretending to be weaker than she truly was. It was a testament to how far gone his mind was if he was second guessing his mother's sincerity. Frigga, who had only ever seen him as the the equal brother, the could-be king if he was given a chance. If only she had managed to convince her husband of the same.
"You know I cannot." His response was quiet and with gentle fingers he picked her hand off of his arm. She struck him instead, hoping to rouse some sort of reaction.
"Loki Odinson you turn around and look at your mother when she is speaking to you." Her voice was fierce now, taking him by surprise. He hadn't heard her yell at him like that since he was young and had nearly tricked Thor into jumping off of the Bifrost, convincing him that there was no way that the water was strong enough to carry him away. She had been furious then, just about as furious as she was now.
He'd not come back to Asgard with the intention of seeing her, if he was honest with himself, knowing that she would be too persuasive in trying to get him to come back.
There was no coming back. This was no longer his home. He had done his time here, suffered his punishment for his folly at thinking he might be able to change his destiny, and had been allowed to leave. That was the bargain. Seeing Frigga was not part of it. He'd done his best to try and sneak out the back after he and Odin's conference was over, the old man demanding Loki's assistance (which Loki was only too happy to deny; let the old man suffer his insolence for thinking his adopted child not as useful as his true son) and Frigga had caught him with her voice much as she had now.
"You will not turn yourself away from me Loki. I miss you. I love you-you are my son." She rested a hand on his shoulder before it snaked its way up to the side of his face, cupping his cheek. A lump rose in his throat as the air suddenly constricted around his lungs. Her guilt trips had always worked on him, no matter how often they were given, but now?
Norns how he'd missed her. He leaned into her touch, feeling the resolve to leave crack and crumble at the edges.
"Will you not spend some time with your mother? Are you so cruel as to think that you can simply walk out without saying hello or goodbye to me?" She asked. Her voice cracked at the last word and when Loki opened his eyes it was to find that she had tears in her own.
He swore he heard the crash of his heart dropping to the floor and shattering into a million shards, each as sharp as the blue eyes she watched him with now. Without another word he pulled her into her arms, felt her break against him, always so strong and now so frail. So worn and beat away by the time. So mortal feeling.
"I love you as well, mother. You know I meant you no insult."
"You think I care of the insult? I care about seeing you. I have heard nothing-no news, no whisper of how you are doing, whether you are well. Loki it will not to do let your mother fret so." She chided, pulling away as she tried to put on a brave face. As ever it was a valiant effort. She was a shieldmaiden after all, and emotions were not so freely shown by those women who were as strong as their husband. Often stronger. That she showed him at that time her emotions, without stipulation or coercion, was enough to break him down to his knees and beg for her forgiveness. As it was he simply murmured it, kissing her temples as he pulled her back into a tight hug.
She forgave him with quiet words and soft hands rubbing his back. As they stood there she began to hum, an old hymn that had been his favorite when he was a child. In her arms he wept, wept for the years spent without her and the countless more to come, for the years that passed, stretching beyond imagination when he had hidden within her skirts and called her mother, surprising her with treats and trinkets fashioned of his magic. Wept for the years he should have been providing her with grandchildren to turn her hair grey-wept for the grey hair and stress he had given her himself. All the while she hummed and rubbed his back, holding him as though were no older than a child who'd had a bad dream, and when he was done and had dried his eyes she led him to her room to catch up, her hand as strong as ever as it clenched his, leading him back home after a long time spent away.
A/N: All characters belong to Marvel, as ever, and the title of this comes from the song "Black Sheep" by Metric. Unbeta'd and short, but I hope you liked it, and thanks for reading!