As Clint Barton made his way through the massive headquarter building of SHIELD, he could see and feel it everywhere that the whole organization was in the middle of tremendous changes. After regaining his full health and being summoned back to duty, he was curious to see how all the things were unfolding.
Curiously he entered the big boss's office which hadn't changed much since the last time he visited there, except the addition of all the old stuff that decorated the side tables. Speaking about old stuff, Barton immediately recognized a man who already sat in a chair on the other side of the dark, large desk talking with the boss. Oh heck, everyone recognized the man even his back turned at them like he was now to Barton. It was Steve Rogers, Captain America himself, in his classic uniform. Barton had considered himself as punctual but this guy had beaten him.
After seeing Cap, Barton took his military enthusiasm up a notch just for the sake of it. "Reporting for duty, sir."
Phil Coulson, the new big cheese who had put in motion the changes inside SHIELD, motioned Barton to enter. "Agent Barton, do come in." He stood up, looking very smart in his new tailored black suit, looking somewhat very excited. "I don't know if you guys have already met but this is one of our best agents, Clint Barton aka Hawkeye," Coulson introduced the men to each other. "And this is captain Rogers."
Steve Rogers glanced at Barton gratefully smiling (like he'd been a blessing send to save him from an eager fan boy), as he rose up to shake hands. "Sir."
"Hi. Now, that was a mighty handshake," Barton admired and they all sat down.
"Yeah, I try to impress. After all I'm the new guy here," Rogers jested sounding humble.
Barton smirked. "Hardly new, old boy."
Coulson was raring to get started, crossing his fingers on the table. "It's good to have you back, Barton. How have you been?"
"Thanks. I'm fine now. It's good to be back," Barton said stretching his muscles a bit and leaned back in his seat casually. "But I've got to say I still hold grudge against Loki. It's embarrassing to get pierced by your own arrow. You don't look too bad for a dead guy either, director Coulson."
"I try to keep in shape. Fury left me big shoes to fill," Coulson said modestly. He didn't want to make a big deal about his rising back from the dead and taking over the role of director of SHIELD as Fury had asked him to do. He was just doing his job.
Coulson handed them both short briefing folders. "Now, as you know SHIELD is facing some drastic changes…"
Barton flipped the folder open and grimaced. "I can see that. This is paper. I didn't know they still made it."
"I feel comfortable with the paper documents," Steve Rogers reassured, liking them better than the technology that was everywhere now days.
"This is level five information. We can't relay on our technology that could still be contaminated with Hydra's spywares. I would ask you to eat the papers after we're done here," Coulson explained and got confused 'what-the-hell' gazes with his dry humor. "I also have a neat shredder if you're not up to it." The smile hardly visited his lips. "If I may continue now. I asked you here because I'm putting up a new team and I need people I can trust."
Barton's sharp eyes caught up with something interesting on the desk and he leaned closer. "Is she gonna be a part of the team? Or the target?" he pondered aloud as his index finger shot over a dark-blue folder that peeked under a pile of documents and he pulled the file towards him across the desk. It was labeled with a name; Emma Morgan.
Rogers's gaze landed on the woman's name and he returned his doubtful gaze at Coulson. "Isn't she the one who…?"
"Dated Loki? Got Fury fired? Caused Tony Stark a minor nervous breakdown?" Barton could have gone on but Coulson stopped him and drew the folder back.
"Ms. Morgan is not our top priority at the moment. We'll get back to her later," Coulson said, casting a significant glance at Rogers before he continued with his main topic, "So, as I was saying the new team would be our first line of defense against Hydra…"
Steve Rogers kept staring at the document folder under Coulson's hand that included everything there was to know about the young woman who he'd let escape a few months ago against his better judgment. Apart from the fact that many people blamed him for the decision he'd made, he still believed he did the right thing. It still bothered him, though, for not knowing her whole story. But he was going to get those files in his hands one way or the other before accepting any assignment considering her. And that glance Coulson had shot at him was telling him that they were going to get back to that subject. He wasn't sure if he was comfortable with what follows.
And he was right. Their meeting took two hours and after they were done, Coulson asked him to stay, while Barton left with a new assignment.
"I understood you met Ms. Morgan in Nevada," Coulson begun as there were just the two of them.
Steve leaned forward in his seat and crossed his fingers. "Yeah, we met shortly. And I already got chewed out from Fury because I let her go."
"How would you describe her?"
"Sorry?"
"This is not an interrogation and I'm not blaming you. You talked with her. I was just pondering what happened. Why you decided to let her go?"
Steve's gaze dropped down to check that his boots were polished as he pondered the same thing. "I saw her as a girl from next door, in a wrong place in wrong time," he said simply and looked back at the boss. "Besides, I knew her father, a long time ago."
"Yes. Logan. You served together in Germany back in 1945?"
"There aren't many people still around that I used to know back then. Not sure if I know him anymore, though."
With a hesitating, considering frown Coulson placed the navy-blue folder in front of Steve. "I'd like you to have a look at this. It's the only copy. I've deleted all her data from our systems. Here is everything we know about Emma Morgan and some of my own additions," he explained and Steve raised his eyebrows a bit puzzled. "You see, I've made promises that I can't break. We need to find her. And I'm going to need your help with that. Are you with me?"
"That depends…" Steve Rogers looked even more perplexed as he flipped the folder open and found three vintage Captain America trading cards on top of a pile of printed documents with an old photograph of a little girl running outdoors in a princess dress armed with a tiny star-shield. The star print was all too familiar to him.
He picked up the photo and for a moment he just stared at the picture and then at Coulson. "You've got to tell me a bit more than this."
… …
Frigga had always enjoyed her daily strolls in the garden and citadel. The weather was getting cooler but it didn't make any exception in her daily routines. As she promenaded around the palace garden with her loyal court ladies, she was surprised to see the gatekeeper of Asgard approaching them.
"My queen. Ladies," Heimdall greeted them formally with a small bow of head. The young ladies let out nervous giggles being impressed by his majestic presence.
Frigga nodded subtly, looking up at him. "Heimdall. Are you finally taking time to leisure in the gardens now when Himinbjorg is under construction?"
Heimdall smiled. "No, my lady. As the gatekeeper I am duty-bound to keep watching over Asgard and the Nine Realms even if 'the gate' does not exist. And a rather sensitive matter has come into my attention, which I feel an obligation to bring forth."
The four young ladies gathered around their queen, all of them assuming the matter concerning the restless Jotunheim.
"Is it of Jotunheim?" Frigga asked and wrapped her sparkling, light blue shawl tighter around her. "If you were looking for Thor or Odin…"
"No. I did not come here looking for Allfather, nor Thor. I found if wiser to speak with you first."
Frigga could tell that the matter was obviously delicate and she asked her lady companions carry on without her. The last time Heimdall wanted to speak with her alone was when Loki turned an autumn banquet into a disaster by bringing alive a cooked wild boar that Thor had hunted, and after it the little rascal disappeared for days.
"You are getting me worried, Heimdall. What is it about?" Frigga asked as they walked together along the garden path.
"I am not sure were you aware of the mortal woman Loki became acquaintances with in Midgard. Thor asked me to watch over her. And I have done so."
They both stopped walking and Frigga faced the gatekeeper, knowing exactly whom he was talking about. At first she feared that Heimdall had seen her visiting Emma Morgan a few weeks ago in Loki's request, but then her worry grew. "Has something happened to that girl?"
Heimdall heaved a sigh. "In a way," he said in his low tone, hating to be the messenger in this matter. He glanced around him to see that they were alone. "It strongly appears that… she is with child."
Frigga blinked as if she'd missed something here. "I beg your pardon?"
Heimdall lowered his voice even more. "She is pregnant with Loki's offspring."
Frigga snorted in amusement with a disbelieving smirk as though that had been the most distasteful jest ever. "I am sorry but you must be mistaken."
"I wish I would but it has become clear within the past few weeks. Whatever Loki was seeking in the arms of that naive young mortal, he conceived a child with her that, I am afraid, is eventually going to kill her. "
The remnants of Frigga's smile were gone and her hand that was holding on her shawl over her heart squeezed into a fist. "No, no. That is impossible," she uttered, dismayed.
She had seen the girl herself which she couldn't tell to Heimdall. And the girl had seemed to be fine. Frigga refused to believe in such a possibility because both moral and physiological facts were against it. Even if Loki would have bedded that girl, which Frigga found hardly fitting act for his prudent, restrained nature, divergence of their species was too extreme to successfully produce an offspring. It would have required Odin's scale of sorcery to make it work.
"Loki is a master of magic," Heimdall reminded to the queen as if reading the doubts of her mind. "And this girl is hardly your average mortal."
Frigga looked at him grimly. "Loki may be many things but he is not ignorant, nor stupid. He was a prince of Asgard. He still is. He knows the cost of such deed."
"My queen, I doubt he considered the full consequences of any of his action when he was driven by revenge. But as I said, I am only a messenger."
Frigga nodded, taking a few steps backwards, trying to understand this unexpected situation. "Of course. Thank you for bringing this matter to my attention. It may be wiser for now to keep this between us… until we have some clarity."
Heimdall bowed lightly. "Yes, my queen."
He was already turning to leave when he stopped, seeing that his news upset the queen severely. He watched at her a little while, compassionately. He wouldn't have minded if Loki would suffer a bit more after all he'd done, but this revelation was bound to affect many others. "Are you going to tell him?"
Frigga lifted her hands in the air, tears glistering in the corners of her eyes. "I do not know. He has the right to know but…" She paused to think about it. "Keeping his true origin hidden from him all this time was unfair enough. And now this. If I do not tell him and the girl suffers... and dies…"
She closed her eyes, having a strong feeling that Loki would be devastated either way when the truth comes out. There should be no secrets in the family. That's what she had always believed. If she should tell him now, she feared that Loki would do something completely reckless and destroy his changes for freedom. She hated to think the third possibility; that the child wasn't even Loki's and by bringing this news to him might break his heart.
Ever so loyal to her composed manners, she crossed her fingers, helping herself to keep things together. Her gaze sought the gatekeeper who hadn't yet departed but was looking at her. She gave him a subdued smile. "What a foolish girl," she sighed with a sad smile. "Do you think the apples of Idunn could save her?"
Heimdall realized where she was heading with this and he clenching his lips pondering before he spoke. "I am afraid that I cannot say. There is nothing we can do until our gate to Bifrost is open once again."
They both knew that using Tesseract was for emergencies only and required Odin's permission. Visiting a girl in Midgard would never pass as an emergency for Allfather.
"Loki has never truly been touched with his Jotun side. It is subdued in him so perhaps the child will not inherit those traits," Frigga thought out loud. "How far along do you think she could manage?"
Heimdall looked bleak while pondering. "I believe the child will consume her fivefold compared to a mortal child. And if it would be a Jotun hybrid, no mortal could endure such exposure to cold and the affliction. I fear her heart will eventually stop beating. Even if she is given then apples, her changes to survive would be slim."
"But still it is worth to try, is it not?" Frigga smiled sadly. "After all we are talking about the mother of my future grandchild. I would ask you to keep me informed of her wellbeing."
"Of course, my queen."
… …
A golden fountain pen ran on the paper, trying to keep up with the quick flow of Loki's thoughts, as he was making notes and summing up the information he gathered from all the books laid in front of him. The black ink drew runes on the ivory paper, putting down his newly discovered observations of the historical aspects of the Jotuns and his own conclusions. His handwriting was clear and elegant, his sentences short but significant.
He was doing research since Odin had demanded him to repair the damage he had done and the best way to start was to know everything there was to be known about the Jotuns. Also he had finally become interested about his own origins, hoping to perhaps accept his inheritance one day. Emma had accepted and loved him knowing exactly what he was, so why wouldn't he learn to do the same?
He was humming quietly, being so immerged with his work. He didn't even notice it, until the sounds of the main door of his quarters opening followed by approaching footsteps cut the flow of his thoughts. His humming stopped and the tip of the golden pen left the paper, as the unfamiliar footsteps carried through his chambers, capturing his attention. He could immediately tell that the incomer wasn't Frigga, certainly not Thor and not any of his servants. A woman, but not his mother. It wasn't even supper time yet. And he wasn't waiting for visitors. He wasn't allowed to have any except his family.
He lifted his gaze from his homework, blinking a few times, pondering if his tired eyes looked as red as a Front Giant's after all the reading. He cast a glance at the gaming table on his right in the alcove. The board game of Hnefatafl was set and waiting for him and Frigga who usually arrived at this hour to drag him away from his books for a game or two. She had used to bring him treats and indulgences and he had beginning to fear that after a few more months like this he and Volstagg could go to the same tailor.
The echoing sound of the footsteps drew near, hesitated a bit before reaching to his bed chamber's doors that were open, but continued all the way to the threshold and the young lady appeared in the doorway carrying a pile of books in her arms, her coral-pink long dress bright like rays of the setting sun.
Her gaze sought him out before she entered further from the threshold. "My lord," she sighed dropping a graceful curtsy. "I am sorry if I bother you. Your guards let me enter. May I come in?"
"You already have." Perplexed and a bit annoyed Loki stared at her behind his desk, putting his pen down and cursing his guards. "Lady Thyra, are you lost?" he asked, shifting in his seat and leaning back.
He recognized the young woman as one of Frigga's ladies-in-waiting. The one he disliked the most because she had been his brother's most devoted admirer. She always was subtly attired in Thor's colors like now in that coral dress that he found too loud for his taste. He found her too loud for his taste.
Thyra smiled, ignoring the unwelcoming reception. "Queen Frigga asked me to bring you these," she announced glancing down at the pile of books she was carrying. "Where do you want them?"
Loki motioned her to bring the books onto his table. "Where is my mother? Why did she not bring them herself?" he asked, fearing that Frigga had sent the courtier to keep him company. Surely Frigga could have found someone less annoying to do her bidding.
Thyra approached him in assertive way. "The queen said she would come to see you later. She was busy with the matters in council she had to addend to." She placed the books on a small clear corner on his desk and gave him a look that could have been interpreted as a flirting one. "I hope you find my choices from the main library satisfying," she added, tapping her fingers on the books.
His elbows rested on his desk and he clenched his right palm over his left's fist, his hands on the level of his chin. "I am sure. Thank you," Loki said without looking at the books. His wrinkled forehead suggested her to leave. Either she was bad for reading his signs or then she had no intentions to leave yet and he cursed inwardly.
There was no denying it, she was beautiful and voluptuous, and her curse was that she knew it. Her amber eyes always sparkled with joy and her long ginger hair flow over her shoulders. Her wanton graces turned heads in every banquet and young men competed with each other to gain her favor. She was a daughter of one of Odin's councilors and practically born for the life in the court. In fact, if Odin would have fathered a daughter instead of a son, Loki was sure that she would have been Thor's female counterpart. Loki however had never really liked her as a person, as an opportunist she clearly was, and the feeling had been mutual from the very beginning. Apparently it takes one to know one. Though it didn't stop him from bedding her once, decades ago for his own pleasure and as a revenge for her insulting insulations about him. Unbeknownst to her, he had his way with her in a form of one of her foolish lovers and discovered that not all those who claimed to enjoy sex were good at it. And by the Norns, the noises she used to make that were supposedly be arousing, he found rather disturbing as if he'd been killing a goat. That flashback made him still grimace.
With a quick glance Thyra noticed that all his books spread open on the table addressed the same issue. "Jotuns?" she pondered. "Why are you so interested about the Frost Giants, my lord?"
Slowly Loki stood up and closed a few covers, leaning on his desk. "If you must know, it is a part of my punishment really," he lied in a slightly stringed voice.
Thyra smiled as she noticed an old storybook about Jotuns. She picked it up and opened it, flipping through the colorful pages, and Loki's face darkened. "I remember this one. My older sister used to read this to me at nights when I was a child," she said and ran her fingers over a painted image where blue monsters were stealing sleeping children from their beds. With such artwork one didn't have to possess much of imagination to find the Jotuns terrifying creatures. "It still makes my skin crawl," she shuddered.
Loki circled his desk and snatched the book from her hands and it made her wince. "Then maybe you should leave it to me, and return to the library to find something more suitable for yourself," he suggested impatiently. She had already made two mistakes by touching something that belonged to him and expressing her thoughts about his original race. One more mistake like that and he might become very unfriendly and tell her to leave in a rude way. He was tired of wasting politeness to people who clearly didn't deserve it.
"Maybe I will," she said and watched calmly as he placed the book back on the table and his eyes returned to her.
His clothes were more casual than she had used to seen on him; black long-sleeved tunic and trousers and a long green damask waistcoat, slightly modest for a prince but perfectly fitting. As he stood there on the same side of the table with her, she realized that she'd never been that close to him before and his height impressed her. Of course he wasn't the tallest Asgardian but nearly as tall as Thor and certainly much taller than she was.
Thyra had heard people saying that he had changed in Midgard. No one knew had he changed for better or worse. She had never known him very well, neither had she wanted to before (even it strangely seemed that he knew things about her she had never consciously shared with him), but she could tell there was something unfamiliar about him. He was a darker, bolder version of himself, exuding more confidence which she found curiously appealing. He had sat on Odin's throne, temporarily, but still he had been a king for a moment and that notion excited her, along with his attempt to destroy Jotunheim.
She confronted his sullen look with a small wooing smile. "Please, forgive my, my lord. I did not mean to upset you. I understand that it must be hard to return after everything that happened," she said and he looked at her doubtfully. "All Asgard believed you to be dead."
Loki answered with a sardonic smile. "Oh, did you shed a tear for me, lady Thyra?"
"My prince, we all mourned you. I am afraid there was no room for personal feelings when I was consoling the queen after her loss. But here we are now. You; valorous and stronger than ever," she flattered with a teasing smile, her fingers playing with the neckline of her dress. "And I; humbly offering you companionship and a little bit of fun in these difficult times."
As a man he was fully capable of interpreting her surprising suggestion, a part of him flattered. He could also see through her enticing act and he scoffed at her idea that the two of them should spent time together any more than necessary. Her posturing was so transparent that she'd to be a fool for believing it would work on him. There was nothing so desirable about her he couldn't pass. He knew too well that she'd sleep even with a dwarf to gain some benefit out of it. He had a memory like an elephant when it comes to being insulted and belittled by others. And as he recalled, she had done both, not finding him man enough to been taken seriously.
Loki pinched his thin lips together and crossed his arms. "I am not allowed to have fun," he stated as if disappointed.
Thyra looked shocked. "How cruel! This punishment of yours does not feel fair. It is such a shame really. If you had succeeded to destroy Jotunheim, we would not have to be afraid of the war between our worlds. Everything would be better without that ghastly race of monsters."
There was her third mistake. He was going to get his fun after all. His dark brows rose with a growing, cunning smile. "Careful now, my lady. Or your words may reach into Allfather's ears," he warned.
"I am merely giving voice what everyone thinks. Jotuns are monsters which eats their own offspring."
"Really? Then how come there are any of them left?"
"Well... maybe they don't eat all of them, but they are vicious and ugly."
"Hmm," Loki murmured softly, taking a step closer to her, his arms unfolding. "Have you ever seen one?"
She touched her chest above her heart and let out a tiny laugh. "Heavens no!"
"Not even a dead one?"
"No."
His smile grew. He was going to enjoy this. "Then how would you know? The truth is not always found in the books, my dear Thyra. What if a Frost Giant would stand right in front of you? Towering over you? Having you cornered? What would you do?"
Her smile fated, knowing too well his reputation as a trickster, but she was aware that his magic had been bound. She however decided to play along. "I would probably scream, my lord."
"Why so? What if he would not want to harm you," he said in his dark, tempting voice, moving even closer, "but to touch you… like this?"
His hand rose slowly as if asking her permission, her eyes following it, and touched her cheek very gently with the back of his fingers. It was meant to be a jest and to continue as one, but that small gesture sent his own concealed desires racing faster than his calculative mind could keep up with. His magic played a trick on him as her eyes flashed in a sky blue hue for a second, resembling Emma's eyes. And on a whim Loki transformed her appearance into that of his beloved Emma, her amber eyes changing into blue ones, her ginger hair turning to golden blond and her whole appearance changed.
Unaware of her completely changed looks, she met his longing gaze, foolishly believing in her own charm that hadn't ever disappointed her. His touch made her speechless and surprised by his tenderness, and she gave into his caress.
Loki felt his heart skipping a beat as he touched her face again, feeling her solid under his fingers, being fooled by his own illusion. Oh, how he had longed to touch Emma, to feel her as real as she felt now. His other hand captured her neck gently, holding on from the back of her head and her eyes smiled to him encouragingly.
He leaned closer and pulled her to him. His fingers caressed her chin and his thumb brushed over her lips that he wanted to drown in passionate kisses. The woman was his to take, that much receptive she was under his touch.
She closed her eyes pleased only to open them again to look deeply back into his eyes. "Oh, my lord, I cannot imagine a Frost Giant ever being able to be as tender as you are," she whispered sensually, leaning to him as his face was coming closer to hers for a kiss.
Loki's narrowed eyes opened wide and he came to a halt, his parted lips nearly on her mouth. Her voice brought him back from his fantasy. This wasn't his Emma. This woman didn't tremble so sweetly in his embrace like his lover did. She didn't respond to him feverishly like his Emma did. She was lacking the spark, the passion and that tiny bit of mischievousness, all that what made his Emma so adorable and appealing. This was not she and it was a disgrace to even consider this woman as a temporary replacement for his love one.
He exhaled slowly, his breath touching her skin around her mouth. He withdrew a bit saying goodbye to the beautiful illusion as he dropped his spell and Thyra returned back into her own appearance. He let go of her, straightening his posture, his short-lived sentimentality wiped off from his expression.
Thyra licked her lips and looked into his eyes in anticipation, waiting for that kiss that never came. "My lord? What is the matter?"
A charming smile conquered his face as he held her studying gaze. "Regardless of your open despise towards me you would come to me now? I take it that you finally realized that Thor is out of your reach and unwilling to take the throne, so you decided to seize the opportunity on me. Is that it, lady Thyra?"
"My prince, I do not understand…" She forced a smile but her eyes lied mercilessly.
He moved back a few steps, his forehead furrowing in disdain. "Oh, poor Loki, all alone in his imprisonment. You thought I must be desperate, desperate enough to perhaps grant you a chance to ascent in the court if you would offer me some friendship? Consolation? Maybe even spread your legs for me?"
She revealed her teeth in a delicate sneered. "Do not flatter yourself, my lord. You have always been the black sheep in the house of Odin. And I hardly have to remind you that right now you do not have too many friends here," she said sulkily. "I was merely being friendly with a hope that now without your tricks you have finally become a man."
"Oh?" Loki tilted his head questioningly and saw from her eyes that even she realized she had been too bold. "Well, I would rather keep my worst enemies closer than petty friends like you."
She was simply confused. It had used to be so easy to make fun of him because he'd been too polite to say anything back. That had apparently changed. "Do not underestimate me. I could help you to become a king."
Now Loki was truly amused. "I doubt that."
"You know my father is a powerful man and he has great influence in the council and many supporters…"
Her words only fed Loki's wicked smile as he sat on the edge of his desk, his arms wrapped across his chest. "I am sure many of them have supported themselves on you too. Tell me, did you ever make it to my brother's bed? Did he make you to moan like a sheep like everyone else does?"
Her cheeks crimsoned. "How… how dare you to speak to me like that?"
"And as for your father, if I have gain favor with that old deluded fool with my personal attempt of revenge against the Jotuns then that is the most unfortunate thing. I would rather associate with any Jotun than your father's kind. He has been an inconvenient nuisance for Odin for decades with his preposterous ideals of Asgardians ultimate superiority and annihilation of all the 'lesser' races. I believe Allfather just wishes to get rid of him."
That remark hit Thyra like a ton of bricks. "That is a lie! I will not return here until you have officially apologized to me!"
"Oh, good. If you were leaving now, would you be a dear, and deliver a message to my mother? The next time she wants to send me a harlot, ask her please to send someone less common. I would not touch you if you were the last woman on Nine Realms."
Thyra's forehead furrowed, her pretty face twisting with anger. She hardly controlled herself feeling so insulted, her body finally trembling in a huff. She spun on her heels like an angry child and marched out through the doors, her hasty footsteps carrying her out from his quarters.
"Wow! That was simply rude," Emma's scolding voice said as her illusional double appeared next to Loki, staring at the doorway where the lady had gone. Then she turned towards him, lifting an eyebrow. "Was that absolutely necessary?"
Loki gave her a sorry look with a shrug, his arms still crossed. "She was asking for it," he defended.
She mimicked his wrapped arms position. "You could have humped her, you know? That's what she was asking for."
"Been there, done that. There would have not been much to enjoy of it."
She pouted her lower lip. "Loki, I thought I was your only cuddly lamb."
He shook his head, amused, lifting his finger. "Are you sure you are just my illusion?"
Maybe it was sad and pathetic that he was making conversation with the illusion he conjured to keep him company but it beat the one that was offered. He needed Emma in his life one way or the other and she had become the reflection of his thoughts, the one thing clarifying his purpose and keeping him sane. Once she'd been real to him, genuine in all ways with him, without hidden agendas like everybody else around him now seemed to have. And she'd been a very good listener, the only one he felt he could truly confine in. He really missed their little talks.
The illusion girl grinned, placing her hands on her hips. "She's so going to tell your mom. You're in trouble now," she warned playfully.
Loki chuckled. "Frigga can blame herself for sending her. Did I ask for her companionship? No. I have no need for poisonous people in my life. They do not truly believe in me like you do."
She gave him a compassionate look, moving closer. "Don't give a damn what others thinks of you. You must be true to yourself, and do what is good for Loki."
"That I will." He stood up, letting his eyes rest on her lively figure and heaved a dreaming sigh, his voice becoming softer as he spoke, "How are you today, my precious darling?"
She showed him her left hand. "Do you see a ring here? I'm still waiting for that proposal."
Loki closed his palm and conjured a golden ring with a tiny gleam of magic flashing through his fingers. He opened his hand, showing this precious jewel to her that had a green frosted emerald and decorative carvings. This time the ring was real, made by the finest Asgardian goldsmith with his specific instruction delivered by his servant. He had sent it back two times to the smith to make it perfect with the carvings and now it was, just waiting for a lovely finger to slip it on.
"Oh, the proposal will be glorious," he promised, eying the ring with high expectations. "I cannot wait to place it on your finger, my love."
The illusion teased him with an enigmatic smile and nodded towards his desk he was sitting on. "Then get back to work, big guy! I'm not gonna to live forever."
… …
"Your king is captured," Loki declared triumphantly and took a lazy gulp from his wine goblet.
Frigga laid her gaze down at the game board, finding her last few white pieces surrounded by Loki's dark ones. "Oh, well done, dear."
Loki gave Frigga a studying look over the small gaming table between them, sucking the taste of the wine from his lips. "I won. Again? You are not giving me any challenge today. Is something troubling you, Mother?"
There were indeed many things troubling her and she knew it was hopeless for trying to hide it from her perceptive son now when she finally ventured to see him again. She picked up her goblet and cradled it in her palms while staring at him. "Lady Thyra opened up to me about your short encounter today. Did you know I specifically asked her to keep you company?"
Loki snorted. "Well, you shouldn't have."
"Apparently so," Frigga said disapprovingly. "She told me that your conduct towards her was disrespectful."
Loki smacked his mouth, his thumb rubbing the ring of his cup. "Did she?" he asked sounding surprised.
"She said you behavior and language was vile and offensive and highly inappropriate."
"And she deserved every bit of it. You should have seen how she was practically throwing herself at me like a wanton and when I told her I am not interested, she was the disrespectful one. I do not see any reason why you keep her as your lady-in-waiting," Loki said his piece and put his cup in the middle of the game board. "Her kinds are like pests, poisoning everything around them. All my life I have put up with people like her, listening their demeaning words and witnessing their vast contempt at the Jotuns. And you approve it?"
Frigga shook her head, offended. "I have never approved it."
"You stood by letting them talk like that in front of me all those years, knowing deep down my true parentage. In lady Thyra's own words; she claimed that Jotuns are monsters which eat their own offspring. Is that how you see them? Is that how you see me?"
Frigga leaned towards him over the table. "I see you as my son, Loki. I always have. And I expect much more of you than I have heard today of your actions."
Loki narrowed his eyes and leaned back in his seat, crossing one leg over another. "I will not apologize to her, if that is what you are hoping."
Frigga looked at him coolly. "Then how about to Emma Morgan?"
His eyes sharpened and despite his careless sitting posture his body tightened as though a reflex. "What of her? Has something happened to my Emma?"
"A heartbroken girl was not the only thing you left behind in Midgard when you returned home," Frigga said in a judging tone of voice and Loki frowned, confused. "Heimdall brought a matter concerning her into my attention and against my better judgment I see that I must tell you this, because there should be no more secrets between us."
Loki watched his adaptive mother's hesitating face and sat on the edge of his seat nervously. "Oh, for pity's sake just spit it out."
She placed her goblet down next to his and clasped her hands together. "That mortal girl is carrying your child, Loki."
Loki blinked once, twice, and his face betrayed him, revealing his utter bewilderment and slight mortification. His lips parted to speak but a rush of emotions swept over him and he turned at the window, gazing far at the distance where the rising Himinbjorg gleamed in the evening glow on the end of the Rainbow Bridge. He stood up and moved to the window. His mind always worked better when he was on his feet, and to process this newfound piece of information he needed a moment.
Then he turned back at Frigga, his dark brows furrowing into a disquiet frown. "My child?" he whispered cautiously.
Frigga nodded, surprised that he didn't even try to deny it. So, it was true. Their encounter had been more intimate she could have imagined.
He breathed out and uncertain smile flickered in his half sacred eyes. "She is carrying my offspring," he said softly and that uncertain smile grew into blossom. "My son."
"It could be a daughter. However, an illegitimate child in all ways... with a mortal," Frigga curbed his growing excitement. "Loki, do you understand what this means? You know our laws. What you have done is forbidden. With your parentage and hers such conceivement was scarcely natural. Did you enhance her? Heimdall fears she may not survive of it."
Loki gave her an offended scowl. "I did not enhance her and Heimdall knows nothing. She is a mutant and her gift ensures that she adapts..." He paused to think about it, truly hoping his little mortal would be able to adjust to this forthcoming ordeal. "But as long as she is in Midgard, she is not safe. She will need me."
"Then you must make sure you will be there for her, because even with her gift she may not make it to childbirth," Frigga encouraged him sternly and rose from her seat. "Convince Odin that you have learned your lesson and he might loosen your leash."
Loki's pondering expression changed into a determined one and he knew exactly how to prove himself. He only had to do the impossible, the one thing he was meant to do.
Frigga fixed him a questioning look. "I know that look, boy. What are you planning?"