A mothers knows

Frigga saw that he was already drifting off to sleep, but she continued telling him the story he probably knew all too well anyways – he had been there when it happened after all.

“You were mischievous already back then, but no one could be mad at you for long. You were just too adorable with those raven black curls and the big green eyes. You could look so innocent though you were all but that.”

She smiled, lost in thought, gently running one hand through her son’s black hair.

“All the palace guards loved and hated you at the same time. Though maybe feared would be a better-fitting expression. They simply knew that wherever you were, trouble wasn’t long to be waited for. That one day, it was summer – and you are aware of how hot our summers can be. However, that summer the heat was particularly boiling.”

She looked down at her son, who had since then become a man, but still needed her like he once did. His breathing had evened out, betraying to her that he was already asleep, and his tears had dried.

“Thor declared he was going to play outside, with his wonderful childish enthusiasm that he has never lost although it has gotten less childish of course. And you? Well, you just looked at him reproachfully and you declared that that was a bad idea as it was hot; and that he’d better collect some herbs when they were still fresh and not dried out and shrivelled by the heat. Thor took your idea into consideration – I still see him standing there, one hand on his hip, his wooden sword in the other.”

She smiled, recalling the day, although she couldn’t prevent a certain sadness creeping into her smile. The two brothers – Thor and Loki – had always been so very different. One adventurous and keen on becoming the greatest warrior ever having existed, not caring much about others’ opinions and embracing his unique status.

The other one either trying to blend in or showing off his positions, desperately seeking approval of everyone around him and trusting others’ opinions much more than he liked to admit while still defending his own standpoint to the utmost.

One perfectly fitted to the kind of life Odin had wanted his sons to live, the other one not at all. Odin as a warrior lived by the rule that emotions were a lesser evil best to be abolished and locked away altogether. He had never understood that Loki had different needs than Thor.

Frigga sometimes had wished that Loki had just been a little less perceptive, a little less vigilant, his mind a little less sharp. So many times, that had only made it difficult for himself. She had always tried to make it easier for him, but often, he hadn’t let her.

In fact, she was surprised by the extent to which he had let her in just now, at that day, not knowing if that even was a good sign.

Whatever.

Where had she left off with the story? She could have stopped telling it altogether as Loki already seemed to be asleep, but maybe she wasn’t only telling this story for him, but also for her. So, she continued:

“I remember Thor saying, Alright, then we’ll do that. Will you come with me, Loki, ignoring the warning glance I shot at him because he should have known all too well that the scorching heat outside would be nothing but poison to you. But he was only a child, just like you were – and who were we to expect from him to know better?

I told you that you couldn’t go even though it pained me to withhold this adventure from you. You couldn’t quite grasp why you weren’t allowed to go out and probably we should have explained it to you better.”

She hesitated for a moment, only now becoming aware of how many errors she and Odin had made when raising their younger son.

“But you did not listen anyways for later that day, we found your and your brother’s room empty. We immediately knew where you both had gone and I will admit that for the first time since long, I was scared. I was scared about you, Loki, because I felt that this day would end in a dramatic experience for all of us. Don’t ask me how. I just knew.”

Because a mother knows.

She hadn’t even been aware that Loki had temporarily awoken until he shifted and mumbled something incomprehensible. She slowly and gently traced her fingers through his hair and silently continued speaking:

“A frantic search began. Hysterical almost. And you probably will not believe me after what you have just heard, but Odin was also scared. Not because he didn’t want his – how did you express it? – his pawn to be in danger, but because he feared for his son.

He loved you too, Loki, in his own way.

The next thing I noticed when examining Thor’s room more closely was that one of his helmets was missing. It was the one he had never particularly liked but kept nonetheless because you had taken a liking to it, and he did not want to leave it to you. His silver one with the long horns. So, occasionally, he would wear it, telling us all how much he loved that very helmet, so that all of us wouldn’t even come up with the idea of giving it to you.”

She chuckled silently.

“He could be mischievous too and I cannot shake the feeling that he may well have learned some of that from you, even if he was the substantially older.”

“It was nasty”, came the unexpected comment from Loki, still sounding half-asleep. Frigga was relieved to hear that there was no hate in Loki’s voice, it was just a blunt statement.

Frigga hesitated a moment before continuing with her story as it had long exceeded the limits of storytelling and had revealed much more about her feelings she had intended to. She somehow felt exposed and vulnerable. But wasn’t that exactly what she had intended? Sharing her feelings and being sincere with her son?

So she went on: “It was adorable that he had lent it to you, given that he under other circumstances wouldn’t lend anything to anyone. He had noticed how much not being able to join him had bothered you. Or… it would have been adorable, hadn’t this act of kindness proved even more dangerous for you.

I know Thor all too well, I can imagine what he thought – that the helmet would maybe cheer you up and protect you from the sun. For of course, the two of you didn’t listen and went out nonetheless to collect herbs.

As I said, a frantic search began, and we called upon the most skilled warriors to our disposal to bring you home before the heat would reach its peak, but they all came back empty-handed, sweating and panting from the summer sun. Odin and I had just decided to take the matter into our own hands as Thor came back home, carrying you in his arms.”

She had to pause for a second, remembering the all-consuming fear that had rushed through her body as she had seen her sons like that.

She remembered bowing down to take Loki out of Thor’s hands, feeling his skin burn, pressing him to her chest while she started to cry.

She remembered Odin talking to her but she couldn’t understand what he was saying.

She remembered that she was supposed to stay strong, but that there was only fear, and worry, and guilt that made it impossible for her to think straight.

Had she just lost a son?

“You looked so tiny”, she continued, her voice nothing more than a whisper, “you were pale and almost didn’t breathe anymore. Odin took you away to the infirmary while I stayed with Thor who was almost as much in shock as I was.

He was crying and telling me over and over again that he hadn’t wanted any of this, that he had failed to protect you and that he was sorry.

And how could I judge him for what he had done? How could I judge you? You were just children, driven by curiosity and thirst for adventure.”

She remembered taking the sobbing Thor into her arms, holding him tight and telling him that it would be alright. Though she didn’t know if she was actually saying that for him or for herself.

She remembered him asking if Loki was going to be alright, and how difficult it had been to keep her voice steady when she answered that she didn’t know just now.

She also remembered him asking her if she would ever let him play with Loki again, and him promising her that something like that would never ever happen again. That he loved his brother, and that he was sorry, sorry, sorry. She had to grab hold of him on both shoulders, forcing him to look her in the eyes when she said: “I trust you, Thor. And I know you didn’t mean any bad to Loki. However, I don’t approve of what you have done today.”

Frigga, recalling where she was (sitting in Loki's bedroom, her now adult son by her side) and once more gently stroking Loki’s back, sighed.

“That night was the most frightening one in my long life. I never left your side while you lay there, unconscious, in the infirmary, Thor’s silver helmet still next to your side as if you hadn’t wanted to leave it. The next morning, you woke up.”

She remembered the relief washing over her like a huge tidal wave, and she remembered Odin looking like he was about to cry for a second before he quickly adopted his expression of warrior-like stoicism again.

“And the first thing you said, still weak and pale and feverish, was…”

“…Do I get to keep the helmet? But I would like it better if it was golden”, Loki finished her sentence, looking up at his mother before he closed his eyes again. Maybe he hadn’t actually been sleeping, just trying to make her think he was.

“And you did get to keep it. Making use of my magic, I turned the silver into gold and from that day on, you never went anywhere without your newly acquired helmet for almost a year. When you grew out of the old one, we gifted you another helmet, just like the old one, but originally made for you this time, and after that came another. And this is the one that is still standing here in your room today, waiting for you to put it on – golden, iconic horns – we should have known that this design had always been meant for you.”

The story was told, and one last time, her gaze fell on Loki, still curled up by her side.

My son. How could I ever let it come thus far?

It had been the wrong decision not to tell him about his true heritage, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that now, it was already too late. That even this intimate moment, and her words of affirmation wouldn’t be able to change his mind and ease his doubts.

For the first time in a long time, she was afraid. Truly afraid that she would lose something very dear to her.

Being gods, it was all too easy to forget what evanescence was, how fleeting life was.

How quickly children grew up, became adults, and then became old. First, they would stop asking for goodnight kisses and goodnight stories, then they would stop asking for hugs even if they were hurt and finally, they would stop asking for anything, having built up walls so thick not even she could always see through them.

With Loki, however, most of the time she still could.

Because she was his mother, and a mother knew.

Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling that this would be the last time, that this was a goodbye to all they knew. But if it had been her last story to be told to him, so be it. At least that one she had told.

She sighed and placed a gentle kiss on her son’s forehead.

Just know that I love you, Loki, and that this will never change, no matter what.