disclaimer: I do not own Thor nor do I pretend to

1. Injury

Frigga stands apart from the rest, seeing her husband and sons off. Odin tells her not to worry, both in private and now, though his tone changes. He does not embrace his wife, rather hold her shoulders and promise that he will be safe.

She nods, watching him stride back, their sons following. Their young sons, she wishes to say but they have not been young for years.

Odin leads the warriors away, his sons on his heels. Frigga remains still, hands clasped, praying for the safety of them. Many have come to see them off, some wives of the soldiers, others citizens who wish to pay their respects.

Once the warriors have all but gone, the crowd had began to dissipate, returning to their lives. Frigga, though, remained, eyes still searching for her husband but when she can no longer see them, she steps back. There, she spies the remaining figure, a girl, cloaked, gray eyes watching the distance.

Frigga considers approaching, questioning but decides against it, assuming her a soldier's new bride.

When they return, Frigga restrains herself from embracing Odin. She smiles and tells him how she is pleased to see him. She watches for her sons, waiting to see their faces but does not let the disappoint show when they are no where to be seen.

She asks Odin, her voice quiet for this is a public welcoming. He tells her that they went to the healer but assures her they are fine. She manages to wear a small smile when inside she wishes to run to them and see them herself.

She tears herself away when she can, taking short cuts to the healer. There she finds Thor being tended to for what she would consider scraps and bruises. He pulls himself away from the woman tending to his injuries to grin at his mother.

"My son," she says, kissing his forehead. "Where is your brother?" She looks, anticipating the scowl on Loki's face as someone tends to his injuries.

"He went to his chambers," he says, face becoming somber. Genuine concern, Frigga thinks and it warms her heart. "He was not well Mother."

She kisses Thor's forehead again. "I will see to him, do not worry."

She leaves him, recalling the path to Loki's chamber by heart. She wonders about his health, concern filling her veins at the prospect of his being too proud to be treated. When they were children, Thor hardly had to go to the healer whereas Loki, her sweet Loki, spent twice as much time there.

She stops at the door, deciding against the idea of knocking and announcing herself. She does not want Loki to hide himself, cover his own injuries. She wants to catch him off-guard.

Pushing the door open very slowly, she is taken aback by what she sees. Her son sits upon his bed, wounds exposed while another figure tends to them. Frigga steps back, still watching, focusing on them.

The figure, with her loose auburn hair, reminds Frigga of the girl she saw standing. She works quietly, combining healing remedies with some magic, making the lacerations fade and diminish.

Frigga works on matching a name, trying to recall where she had seen her face before. Her eyes, they were familiar long before she confused her for a soldier's wife. She stands outside Loki's chamber, wringing her hands until the name comes.

Sigyn

Frigga glances back inside, catching her son kiss Sigyn. She smiles as she withdraws, returning to the healer.

Thor is waiting there, sitting on the edge of a bed. "How is he?" He asks.

She touches Thor's shoulder, recalling the days when Thor was small, barely to her waist. "He is fine."

author's note: The entire purpose of this is to provide me an outlet when writing my own novel starts driving me up a tree. Sometimes I'll follow what Marvel says happens, other times I'll listen to mythology and sometimes I'm just going to go my own way. So forgive me where I stray from one of the two established groups. Reviews will be appreciated.