Queens do not run.

To be a Queen, one must learn to be a Queen, and one learns that Queens do not run.

A Queen may hasten, she may hurry, she may quicken her steps. She does not run.

Many times, though, have I been Mother before Queen and I have run.

"The Bifrost has been ruptured; the King and your sons are there..." and I ran.

My heart lifted when I saw my husband and my oldest son walking towards me and I looked beyond them to assure myself that my youngest was also safe. What I saw was the stricken look on Odin's face and the tears on Thor's and – I am told – I collapsed.

"Heimdall has seen Loki; he is alive…" and I ran.

My heart lifted when I saw my husband and my oldest son hurrying towards me, tearful smiles on their faces and – I am told – I hugged Heimdall with such force, he had to ask me to desist.

"Your son has awakened; he calls for you…"

The healers had done all they could for Loki; all that remained was to let his mind and spirit become accustomed to their new boundaries. He remained in his cell, sleeping, watched over by his mother and protected by my most trusted and circumspect guards, until I saw what effect the remedy had had.

I passed the hours of my son's sleep walking up and down the corridor outside his cell. I was at the casements, breathing the fresh air, when the captain of the guard came to tell me Loki was awake, and I ran to be with him.

His awakening had not been pleasant. I found him on his knees next to his bed, arms pressed over his head, whispering something over and over. I went to him.

"Put it back, put it back," he was repeating as I knelt by his side. "Please – put it back."

"Put what back? Loki, my son, put what back?"

"Me," he said and he sobbed. "Put me back."

I held him until he was calm enough to be brought to his chambers, and his father and Thor and I watched his slow progress back to us.

"Loki actually ate while we were at Stark's; grapes and cheese and some bizarre concoction of I know not what sort of food and he has now gone to Father of his own accord…" Thor exuberantly informed me immediately upon their return from Midgard.

"Our son is laughing and smiling; he has let himself be open again…" Odin beamed as he told me of his customary evening walk with Loki.

After my husband had informed me of all that had passed between them as they spoke on their walk, and that Loki had returned to his chambers, I dismissed my ministers and hurried to my son.

It's possible that I ran there.

I didn't knock and wait admission, something that in the past often earned me both of my sons' embarrassed outrage. I pressed the handle and pushed the door and went in.

One lamp burned. The couch was empty. The bed was empty.

The chamber appeared empty.

"Loki?"

"I am here, Mother." His voice reached me from his balcony. The draperies pulled aside and my son walked into the room.

My son.

Not a sad memory, not an angry shadow, not an empty husk.

"No need to put the guard on alert." He was smiling as he said it. "I have not fled."

My son.

I went to him and hugged him. He laughed and slipped his arms around me.

"I was gone from Asgard but an hour, Mother; surely that does not warrant such an impassioned return. Thor alone has not embraced me this day."

"You have been gone longer than that." I said. I felt him draw a deep breath.

"Yes, too long." He tightened his grasp and I no longer felt that it was I who was embracing him, but he who was embracing me. "I do appreciate the warmth of your greeting."

I held onto him a few moments more and then stepped back to have a proper look at him. Even if his father hadn't told me of the tears Loki had shed, I could see the evidence of them still on his face, cheeks pale, eyes red-rimmed. He wore still the clothes he had put on to travel to Midgard. Thor said he'd eaten but was it enough?

As ever, Loki's eyes took in all mine saw.

"Mother – I'm fine. I assure you. Stop planning the remainder of my evening with bath and foodstuffs. Come, sit with me on the balcony. Let us enjoy the evening air."

He offered me his arm, escorted me to his balcony and handed me into the couch.

"I'd forgotten how truly lovely the evening is here." He said as he sat next to me. "The endless sky. The smell of the salt marsh and the sound of the night birds. If I but close my eyes I am a child again and all possibility still lies before me."

In the light of the moon shining over us, I could see that he didn't close his eyes; he looked out over the land with an expression on his face that matched the regret in his voice.

"All possibility still lies before you, Loki. Life cannot exist without hope."

He smiled and it was a sad smile and I took his hand between both of my own and held it tightly.

"Do you think I felt hope when I was an infant abandoned in the snow?" He asked me.

I lifted one hand and pressed it gently against his cheek. Oh, my child. My dear, dear child.

"Of course you did. All a baby knows is hope. When he's hungry, he hopes someone will feed him. When cold, that someone will warm him. When lonely, that someone will come to him. Until a baby learns to expect, all a baby knows is hope."

He took my hand from his cheek and kissed the palm and held it tightly in his own.

"Do you remember the night Father brought me home? Will you tell me of it? Since I've learned the truth of my birth, I've never had the will to ask about that night."

There was no self-pity in the question. He only sought an honest answer.

"Of course I remember. I remember every single moment of that night. It was a terrible war with a terrible cost and I truly, truly believe that it would have been your father's eternal millstone if he had not the joy of bringing you into our family."

"Did he? Did he express joy?" Loki's question was broken and seeking. His eyes shone with poorly concealed yearning.

"Oh, Loki – if you could have seen him. I'd only seen him that happy when Thor was born. He refused to go to the healing room until he placed you in my arms and satisfied himself that I could take proper care of an infant."

Loki smiled at that. He turned to face me more, keeping our hands still entwined.

"I wonder that he dared think anything else of you."

"Your father is a wise king, a true warrior, a wise counselor, an adoring father – but he was once a young father. I hurried him to the healing chamber so that I might bathe you and dress you and feed you – without further helpful suggestions from him."

Loki smiled again but then dropped his gaze to our hands.

"What did you think? When you saw me, when – when Father told you what I was, what did you think?"

"I loved you from the moment I saw you. And from the moment your father placed you in my arms, I knew that my life would never be complete again unless you were part of it."

"But what of my Jotun blood?"

"Yes, indeed, my son. What of it? I never gave it a thought."

His eyes were bright and he looked down, with that particular tilt of his head that always shows his mind at work. I sometimes wondered if his mind ever wasn't at work.

"But – but – how could you not? Even now – especially now – especially after all the misery I've caused, how can that not be your thought? Your only thought?"

As if a mother could have only one thought about her child.

"When you were hungry, I didn't ask, 'how do I feed a Jotun child?' When you were tired, I didn't ask, 'how do I put a Jotun child to bed? When you had a nightmare, or were scared, or unwell, I didn't ask, 'how do I comfort a Jotun child?' All I asked was 'how do I take care of my child?' I've been asking ever since."

He didn't look at me and I squeezed his hands.

"I'm asking it now."

Loki took a deep breath. He lifted his head but didn't look at me.

"I'm scarcely a child."

I detected a note of petulance in his tone. He'd had a tiring, if not long, day. Healing, even the healing of mind and spirit, can be as draining as physical combat. I ought to have been urging Loki to his bed, but I knew there was more he wanted to say, more he needed to hear.

I leaned closer and kissed his cheek and smoothed his hair.

"You will always be my child."

He let out a breath and slid his body forward, slouching down so that his head could rest against the back of the couch, the same as when he was young and wanted to show how little he cared for posture and protocol.

"May I tell you something, Mother?"

"Of course. Anything."

"I don't care for the nighttime. The darkness, the stillness, it puts something haunting into my heart, so that all I can see and hear and remember is the pain and sorrow and destruction I've caused. All that malice that I felt for so long, that I would still be feeling were it not for this – this – " he gestured towards himself. "This remedy. That perhaps I do still feel. I lie awake at night, reliving the horrors of my making, again and again."

"And so you sleep all day for you get no rest at night."

"What rest do I deserve? What freedom? What happiness?"

There was no anger or accusation in his voice or expression. Only weariness. He leaned against my arm, heavily.

"Today went so well." He said. "Beyond all hope and expectation. I thought a threshold had been crossed and that the door which opens upon my agony had been finally shut. But…" He sighed. "I am grateful to have been relieved of the madness and wrath; would that the pain could be blotted away as well."

I longed for that as well.

"Loki, even with all our skill and knowledge and best intentions, no one has ever been able to heal a broken heart. That is the one thing that heals as it will."

He nodded and was silent, we both were, sitting together, shoulders pressing, hands entwined.

"That first night that you were home with us," I began, brushing my thumb gently, lovingly, over Loki's fingers. I kept my voice soft and melodic. "You would not sleep. You were fed and bathed and clothed and swaddled, but though you would drift off, you would always and immediately stir yourself awake again, as though you feared sleep. I would soothe you and you would drift off and stir awake and cry. Your father came in and took you from my arms and sat with you. He said to you, over and over, 'All is well, my son. You are home and you are safe. Your mother and I are here. Sleep and we will be here when you awake. Go to sleep my son, all is well…'"

Within moments, Loki was asleep at my side, just as he slept peacefully in his father's arms that first night, so long ago.

Tomorrow, I would work with the mistress of the wardrobe to see that my son had fresh clothes and proper attire. I would work with the master of the kitchens to help fashion the Midgardian foodstuff that Loki had eaten this day, of which odd description I had been fully informed by Thor and Odin. Tomorrow I would ensure that Loki had time enough to spend with his father and brother, out in the air and sunshine, and not in self-exile.

Tomorrow, we would continue the long walk to healing and wholeness.

Tonight, I would stay by Loki's side and guard his heart through the darkness.

.

tbc