Can We Please Go Back To The Way It Was?

Eir has nursed both princes of Asgards since they were wee little babes. She was the one who assisted the Queen in delivering the golden son, and she was the first, next to the King and Queen of Asgard, to hold the second son once the Allfather returned from the war with Jotunnheim. She was one of the only people the King and Queen trusted with this dark secret, and she made damn well sure they didn’t regret it. She nursed both children, as if they were her own, never treating either of them differently.

She was a healer; it was her job to care for and treat the wounded or ill and nothing was going to get in the way of that.

Both children were at the healing chambers often, mostly for small wounds. Occasionally, they’d come back badly injured but those were rare and they always made a full recovery.

Strangely enough, one of Eir’s fondest memories were when the two brothers came in with Thor nursing a stab wound and Loki looking burnt. It turns out; Loki pulled a prank involving turning into a snake and stabbing his brother, and Thor electrocuted him in retaliation. It’s nothing too bad, a part of her was horrified at having heard of this story the first time, but listening to the two bicker good-naturedly whilst she treated them was enough to warm her heart.

Thor had his fair share of injuries, but when Loki was young, he was very sickly. He was sensitive to the heat and would often pass out or contract fevers. His body took a while to adjust to the Asgardian climate. She had been there to help him through it, every step of the way.

He was a brilliant child, always chasing after his big brother. Even when he was weak with a fever, he would constantly ask when he’ll get better so that he could go back to training with Thor. He’d constantly get injured because he kept pushing himself too far during training since he needed to keep up with Thor. He’d come into the infirmary, ask her about biology and genetics with a book of such topics at hand, and ask her why he was so different compared to Thor. Were they not brothers, after all?

Being trusted by the King and Queen was sometimes a very difficult task, and sometimes it took all she had to smile at the young prince and reassure him that he was fine the way he is. Because even if she thought it was betrayal not to tell Loki the truth, she figured it would be an even greater betrayal for him to have to hear the truth from a lowly servant of Asgard, such as herself.

So she smiled, comforted, and healed. She listened patiently to both Thor’s proud anecdotes of their adventures as well as Loki’s huffs of annoyance, recalling his own version of what he dubbed as ‘Thor’s stupidity getting us into unnecessary trouble’. She loved both boys with all her heart and pride shone within her every time they leave the healing chambers and rush off to celebrate their newest victories.

That was what was supposed to happen this time as well. But instead, a seriously injured Thor had returned to Asgard. The army returned with half the soldiers gone.

They returned with half the number of princes they left with.

Their ship was destroyed and the remaining soldiers only managed to evacuate through the escape pods. From what she’s heard, Prince Thor had only been rescued after the Mad Titan had left. He didn’t make it out of the ship in time, but was miraculously still alive when they came back to retrieve the bodies.

Prince Loki’s was not among those they managed to retrieve. They only obtained a quarter of the amount of the soldiers they lost. The rest must’ve floated away and into the endless void of the cosmos.

It hurt to think that they couldn’t even give him a proper burial. The pyre they burned for his funeral had been empty, but as much as it bothered her, she could only imagine the pain Prince Thor must be going through. Upon returning with the news of his brother’s death, he was brought to the infirmary and hasn’t spoken a word since.

Those two did everything together. Despite their differences and the numerous fights over the years, they were inseparable. No matter what Loki did, Thor could never find it in himself to stay mad at him for long. And no matter how many times Loki complained about his brother’s recklessness and arrogance, there was no denying that he had always looked up to him and strived to become as great as his brother.

Eir didn’t know the details, she doubted even the King and Queen did but there was no doubt in her mind that even in Loki’s last moments, he must’ve worried about Thor. He had always taken it upon himself to look after his brother and make sure he was taking care of himself. If he could see him now, Loki would definitely be heartbroken. Eir wanted to tell Thor that, but with the emotional wound the Mad Titan had dealt him still so fresh, she decided against it. All she could do at the time was to heal his physical wounds, make him as comfortable as possible, and give him space.

She’d spend all her time next to the older prince (their only prince, now. But that hurt too much to think about) but there were many seriously wounded and they needed their best healer along with volunteers who had even an inkling knowledge about first aid. They were busy for days, with Eir only managing to check up on Thor every once in a while, leaving the Queen as his main healer.

Honestly, she was a bit grateful for the work. It helped her forget. When it came to healing physical wounds, no matter how grievous, she knew how to handle it. Unlike the emotional ones inflicted on others (and herself), she was at a loss. So it was nice to keep herself busy and pretend that it was another day of work and there was nothing wrong.

It didn’t mean her mind didn’t wander every once in a while though. At one point, from the corner of her eye, she spotted the familiar green armor with gold linings covering pale skin with dark hair standing at the entrance of the great hall. She huffed. Neither of the two princes liked to stay still, no matter how serious the injuries were. That usually left Eir to scold them and practically drag them back to the healing chambers. She turned, the familiar reprimanding words already forming at the tip of her tongue.

There was no one there. An empty space at the entrance that led to a dark hallway.

She remembered. Oh, right. Of course. How silly of her, of course there was no one there.

Prince Loki is dead.

She stared at the spot where she could’ve sworn she saw the youngest prince, her grief coming back full force but she hid it expertly behind a mask of indifference. She was a healer, one of Asgard’s best, and she had a job to do. She could mourn later, but not now, she had other people to help.

There was no longer anything she could do to help Prince Loki.

So with a heavy heart, she tore her eyes away from the entrance of the ballroom and returned to work. One of the other healers, a friend of hers since she was but an apprentice who fainted at the sight of blood, was not fooled by her mask and asked her if she was alright.

She smiled, forced but it had to do. “I’m alright, perhaps a little stressed.”

She nodded. “Hang in there, alright? We’re all going through a lot.”

At least you don’t feel like you’ve lost your child. Eir had to bite her tongue to keep herself from retorting.

She had to finish quickly so she could return to Prince Thor and look after him, he hasn’t been taking care of himself and they needed to get him back on his feet.

It’s what Loki would’ve wanted.

Frigga was a mother. At first, she only had one and for the longest time, she believed that was enough. Thor was wonderful, and the best any mother could ask for. He was healthy, joyful, and much smarter than he seemed; Frigga could already see him becoming a strong warrior one day and, after many years, maybe even a great king.

And then Odin brought Loki home, and Frigga instantly fell in love with him too.

So small and pale and scared. He constantly cried during his first few months in Asgard; he was nothing like Thor. And yet, Frigga loved him all the same. She now had two sons, and it seemed like their family was perfect.

Once Thor got bigger, he started spending more of his time in the training grounds. Loki did the same, but it became apparent that his strength lay elsewhere. He was such a bright child, Frigga saw all the potential inside him, so she taught him magic. And just like that, Loki started spending every moment he could with his mother. When their private lessons were over and training had wrapped up for the day, Thor would venture off with his friends, but Loki would head to her room and ask her to teach him new spells. He was such a fast-learner, and she more than appreciated the company.

She wouldn’t say she had a favorite. She loved both of her sons equally. But there was no doubt that Thor would be the one to inherit the throne, so she often worried of what would become of Loki.

She convinced herself that everything would be fine. They were family. Maybe one day, they’ll even be able to drop all of the secrets and just accept their differences. Thor would be king, and Loki would be his most trusted adviser, which suits him since he was so fond of his brother and always wished for him to become better, despite how much he denied any affection he felt.

This was Frigga’s ultimate wish in life, and it would never be.

They received word of the ship, filled with soldiers sent to eradicate the threat of the Mad Titan, being completely destroyed. There were survivors who had managed to get into the escape pods after Thor had made the order to retreat and evacuate the ship, but it seemed that no one saw the two princes leave. They had stayed behind to fight the Mad Titan to give their remaining men enough time to leave.

Odin immediately sent for rescue ships to dig through the carnage to try and find any more survivors, Frigga feared the worst.

Not long after, they received a message from Thor. Frigga could practically cry in relief, until she heard it. He said that he was going to track the Mad Titan and they would not return until he does. It was madness, and only Odin’s patient words kept her from getting on a ship and fetching her two sons. He sent the Warriors Three and Lady Sif to bring the princes back, and they were… partly successful.

Thor returned alone. His expression grave and his wounds still haven’t been tended to. But he still forced himself to meet the Allfather in the throne room and stand before him.

He delivered the news of his brother’s murder. They had been defeated by Thanos and, in a last ditch effort to save them both, Loki attempted a sneak attack which failed and cost him his life. Thor didn’t give much details like how Loki died or what attack he attempted, but through his tone and words, there wasn’t a single doubt. Loki had been dead before the ship even exploded.

“He died honorably.” Thor’s voice was quiet, his head bowed in shame. Frigga was certain that her perfectly composed and calm mask that she had always worn so eloquently for thousands of years had dropped, allowing anyone to see the raw grief she was experiencing but she couldn’t find it in her to care.

Her son was gone, and she can only imagine what her surviving son had gone through in that ship.

“Forgive me, Father, Mother. We couldn’t-“ his voice was trembling. “We recovered many corpses, but we couldn’t find him. I tried to widen the search but-“

So he hadn’t planned to take on the Mad Titan. He had just wanted to bring home his brother’s body to give it a proper funeral. It was a nice sentiment, but if it had drifted away from the carnage, then the odds of finding it were slim to none.

Frigga ignored the way her heart felt like it was turning to ash at how much it’s been breaking. Her only consolation was that Thor hadn’t died too. But seeing her proud son barely holding himself together through the grief, it wasn’t much of a consolation at all.

She silently followed Thor as his friends brought him to the infirmary to be checked by Eir. Once she was done, she asked for a moment alone with him, which they graciously gave her.

Thor hasn’t looked at her at all since coming back; she could only imagine it was the shame of being unable to protect his brother. She can only imagine what he was feeling, but even though it wasn’t motherly, even though it was a bit selfish, she needed answers. She wanted to know what became of the frightened babe that Odin had brought home all those centuries ago.

So she asked him, tried to be gentle about it but knew that the urgency in her voice failed in that attempt. How did he die? Are you really sure he’s gone? Your brother is full of tricks, perhaps he did another to get Thanos to leave? What happened?

Thor couldn’t answer much, but he was insistent that Loki was dead. There was no way he could be mistaken, and although Frigga wanted to demand how he was so sure, she knew that Thor wouldn’t be so adamant about it otherwise. He had always been optimistic, always assuming there was an alternative, more acceptable explanation. The fact that he wasn’t even trying to come up with any right now spoke volumes.

He stopped talking for a few days after that, and it took her husband’s intervention before he even made an attempt to get back up on his feet. But he was never the same.

She and Odin agreed that their remaining son needed time to grieve, and it became an unspoken taboo to utter a single word connected to the Mad Titan in the presence of the crown prince.                 Weeks passed and he seemed to be recovering smoothly. He started smiling more often, going out to hunt again, and sometimes he could even muster up the courage to sit with his parents during meals without looking lost staring at Loki’s seat.

Frigga knew better though, of course she did, she was his mother. Sometimes, she would check up on Thor in the middle of the night- it was because her grief had made way for paranoia and sometimes she couldn’t sleep, she had to make sure that at least one of her children was alive and well- only to find his room empty. When she first discovered this, her heart raced and she immediately used her magic to try and find her son, only to smile sadly when she did.

She left Thor’s room and made her way to Loki’s, being careful to make sure that the door didn’t squeak when she opened it. She peeked in and found Thor lying on Loki’s bed, curled up and looking so tired. She quietly made her way to him and kissed his forehead, brushing a few strands of hair away from his face.

No matter how hurt she was, she had to stay strong, for her kingdom and for her family. With a renewed resolve, she went back to bed. She never knew if it had been the first time that Thor slept in Loki’s bed after the incident, but she would later find out that it wasn’t the last.

Months passed, and things seem to be getting better. At least until Hela arrived. Now, Frigga wasn’t proud of her husband’s past decisions and how he chose to handle them, but she promised to support him no matter what. But it was times like these that she wished that she had done a bit more to dissuade her husband in his methods. At the very least, Thor seemed to take it well. Or maybe he was too far into his grief to care about anything else. It was this worry that led to her talking to her son and leave her husband to deal with his firstborn.

“Your Father will speak with Hela privately concerning our… situation.” She said to him. “I imagine she’ll have her work on the matter alone, alongside her undead army.”

“Aye, I suppose it’s the wisest decision to be made.”

No reaction, this was worrying. She’d honestly feel much better if he threw a fit rather than closing off as he has preferred to do during the past year. “Thor… you know you can talk to me about anything right?”

“Of course.” He gave her a tight-lipped smile. “Will they be there long? I’d like to speak with Hela.”

Now that let the situation reach a whole new level of concerning. “Why?”

“There’s something I’d like to ask her.”

“And it’s something that you cannot ask me?” she tried not to let the hurt seep into her voice.

“No,” he smiled sadly. “I’m afraid not.”

Frigga paused, looking at him intently before sighing. “It might take them awhile, I cannot be sure.”

Thor nodded. “I’ll wait out here then.”

“Are you sure? Perhaps you should rest in your room? I’ll have the guards call for you once they’re done.”

“No, it’s alright.” Thor said. “I’ll wait here.”

Frigga didn’t know what her son planned to do or talk about with his sister, but she knew that it couldn’t be anything good. And yet she knew that whatever she said wouldn’t dissuade him.

If Loki had been there, she wouldn’t have to worry. He would reassure her that he can handle Thor and he would look out for him, no matter what happens. It was so easy to imagine him putting a hand on her shoulder, comforting her in a way he rarely did with anyone else and using that silver tongue he was famous for to actually help as she always knew he was capable of doing.

It took a split second before Frigga realized that the pressure on her shoulder was not imaginary and the words she was about to speak to Thor died on her lips as she turned around. From the corner of her eye, she could’ve sworn he saw a tint of green.

Nothing was there. Frigga’s eyes searched the large halls but it was empty save for her and her only remaining son. She didn’t know what she expected. Her grief must be getting the best of her.

And yet, a deep, restless part of her gut told her that something was wrong; that she didn’t imagine the pressure of a familiar hand offering her comfort as she worried about her family. But that would be impossible… wouldn’t it?

“Mother?” Thor frowned, looking curious. “Is something wrong?”

She opened her mouth, about to call out if anyone was there. She decided against it. It wouldn’t do for her grieving boy to think his mother was going mad, especially at such dire times. She would investigate the matter further later on.

For now, she turned to her son and smiled at him with practiced ease. “Nothing. Don’t push yourself, okay?”

“I won’t.”

Hesitantly, she nodded and threw one last look where she thought she had seen a speck of green before walking off.

Perhaps there was something in the works that they were not aware of, or perhaps not. Perhaps she had truly gone mad and the empty casket they burned down during Loki’s funeral had burned down her sanity along with it.

Frigga struggled to keep the tears in all the way to her private quarters, where she broke down and prayed that wherever her youngest son was, he was at least safe and happy. She can be Asgard’s perfect queen later, right now; she was a mother who lost her child.