Chapter 3: Let him come to you

The throbbing in her neck was the first thing that registered in Frigga's mind as she slowly came to her senses. She didn't move, not wanting to worsen the ache, but the moment she realized where she was she deemed that to be a wise decision for more than just one reason.

She could feel the child's presence even with her eyes closed. He didn't make any movement that would disturb the silence, and it wasn't the slight coldness radiating from his skin that gave him away either. The queen couldn't tell which one of her senses picked up on the Jotun's proximity, but she could feel him being close to her – much closer than before she fell asleep.

She refrained from stretching her muscles and change into a more comfortable position – she didn't want him to notice she was awake just yet. She made an effort to keep her breathing slow and even, and for long minutes the boy gave no signs to indicate he was aware of her consciousness. Curiosity finally got the best of her when she heard the telltale clanking of chains nearby, and decided to risk cracking an eye open, hoping it would go unnoticed by the child.

The blue form was half-kneeling next to her just out of arm's reach, and his expression told her he was too absorbed in something to notice her stare. His thin body was hunched in a strange position, leaning forward so much that he had to support his weight on his trembling arms. His chains were stretched to their limit, and the queen suddenly realized that he was only enduring the uncomfortable looking position in order to get closer to her. For a moment she didn't understand why he had a sudden change of heart about her nearness, but the subject of his interest became clear once she saw his lips move, forming soundless words.

The book still rested on her lap – open at the page where she left off – and much to her surprise, the small Jotun appeared to be studying the script from afar. His brows were furrowed in concentration and for a moment she wondered if he recognized some of the letters. It was a foolish thought considering how he probably wasn't taught to read even in his own language, but the way his mouth moved in silence reminded her of a child who has just been introduced to the world of letters.

Not wanting to startle him Frigga closed her eyes and sighed audibly, stirring to indicate she was about to rouse. Surely enough, the boy had retreated to his corner by the time she caught sight of him again, curled up against the wall and pretending to sleep.

It took her a moment to realize that she never heard the chains move. 'How did he do that?'

She took a tentative step towards the Jotun, but stopped immediately when she saw his whole body flinch at the sound. He was obviously struggling to stay calm and keep his façade up, and Frigga was saddened by the fact that the little reliance he seemed to show previously was gone the moment she closed the book. She knew he acted merely out of self-preservation, but no matter how much he wished to be left alone, she was still reluctant to comply due to his current condition.

The woman let her eyes roam around the room briefly, willing to quell her hesitance. The food was still untouched in the corner, the goblet of water knocked over, which prompted her to make a mental note to have another tray sent down for the night... Along with the thickest blanket and the fluffiest pillow she could find in this palace.

Dismissing her inner debate she placed the book on the floor where he could reach it and turned towards the entrance, sending a last longing look to the blue creature. She was very much aware that Odin was trying to play on her compassion, but the state the boy was in softened her heart regardless. It didn't mean she agreed with her husband, but she could certainly understand his perspective better.

No, it most definitely did not mean Frigga agreed with Odin. Not by a long shot. But maybe…

She could come back in the morning to check on the child. Just to see if he ate. Maybe he would even let her heal him…

Or she could just leave the Jotun in the care of Eir. The Healer was better suited to treat his injuries, after all.

Frigga snorted at the thought. Leave him to Eir. Right. As if her conscience would let her do that. No, she would come back tomorrow. Just once more. Just to check on him. Just to try to heal him, and to see if he ate. Just one more visit, and that was it.

And if she happened to pick up another book on her way down… well, Odin wouldn't have to know about that.

…

Morning couldn't come fast enough for the queen of Asgard. For the first time in years, she was glad that Thor was an early riser.

Frigga didn't get much sleep after returning from the dungeons. She wasn't sure about the time, but it must have been quite late since both Odin and Thor had already been sound asleep. She felt a pang of guilt for not being the one to tuck her son in, but she felt even guiltier for the fact that it wasn't Thor occupying her mind during the dreamless hours that followed.

She had been woken from an uneasy slumber by her son's voice not long after sunrise, and was glad to be greeted by Thor's always so eager face. After sharing a peaceful breakfast with her family she proceeded to make the young prince presentable for tutoring, and miraculously, she even managed to find the time to share a few words with her husband in private when the boy was busy making his cape stay in the right place.

She told Odin that the Jotun had been relocated to the dungeons, but despite her expectations, he didn't seem to be the least surprised. His only reply was that Eir would move the child up to the Healers' chambers once she deemed fit, and that Frigga needn't worry about the situation. His easy dismissal clashed with his previous insistence on taking the little sorcerer in quite sharply, enraging Frigga for a reason she didn't quite understand. She was just about to voice her not so high opinion about Odin's self-contradictory behavior when she noticed a small smile playing on his lips, and whatever comment she might have had died on her own lips instantly.

Driven by fury the queen made a show of picking up a book she used to read out from to Thor when he was a bit younger, and stormed out of their chambers with the unconcealed intention of paying a visit to the Jotun.

On her way down Frigga realized she didn't quite understand why she was so angry with Odin. It wasn't like he forced her to comply with his request – she was the one who decided to go the dungeons again.

It was perhaps that damn smirk of his that added the insult to the injury – the one that said he knew exactly this was going to happen. That victorious expression suggested he knew she was going to give in, and she hated his confidence for the first time she could remember. She hated that he thought he was right, and she hated that little voice in the back of her mind even more for whispering he had a reason to think so.

The woman didn't acknowledge the guards in her haste when she reached her destination, not even bothering to dismiss them like the previous day. She studied the book in her hands for a second after entering, not really knowing why she brought it along now that she was there. She had absolutely no intention to read for the child again – not if her stay would make Odin draw the wrong conclusions. She only grabbed it to… to make a point.

Frigga couldn't for the life of her remember what that point might have been though, but it didn't matter anymore. All thoughts of her infuriating husband fled her mind the instant she laid eyes on the cerulean skinned child, who had yet to notice her presence.

The little sorcerer was crouching in the same corner she left him, completely engrossed in the romance novel Frigga had brought down the previous day. He was drawing straight lines on the floor with a bony finger, and the queen cringed when she realized his canvas was made up from his own dried blood. His movements were slow and unsteady, but his occasional glances at the book told her that he was trying to copy the text.

The queen couldn't honestly say she wasn't shocked by the sight. Sure, the boy seemed to be interested in the script yesterday, but she didn't really think he would know what to do with a book besides perhaps flipping the pages idly. Yet there he was copying letters, as if he had done so at least—

Oh… Frigga bit her lip in shame when it hit her. She never really considered the possibility that the Jotun could indeed read – even if only in his own language. Odin was not the only one who tended to draw the wrong conclusions, it seemed.

Curious to what he might have written down she walked up to the cage, deliberately making her steps louder when she noticed that the boy was too focused on the novel to detect her presence. She was already at the stairs when he finally looked up, his red eyes going wide in a manner she was all too familiar with now. Frigga smiled at him in an attempt to ease his distress, but much to her chagrin, the dread failed to leave his shiny orbs. She stepped inside the cage in an as non-threating posture as she could muster without actually sitting down, but the child apparently wasn't ready to receive guests just yet.

She was already retreating when he picked the book up hastily, fearing he planned to attack her for the intrusion again, but the Jotun didn't even look at her before he left the corner.

He half-run, half-crawled up to the queen with a speed that didn't cease to amaze her, and Frigga had to use all her willpower to stay still when he came to a halt at her feet. She watched in a slightly terrified awe as he placed the novel back to the same exact spot she had left it, raising his head only for a brief second to check her reaction. His fearful eyes met hers for a heartbeat before he started to move back, his apologetic expression matching Thor's when he was caught making trouble.

Frigga couldn't help the sad sigh that escaped her lips. Why did he have to look at her as if she was threatening him with fire if he misbehaved? Why did he have to think she would punish him for simply touching that damned book? What did she do to deserve seeing those beautifully broken eyes being drenched in pain beyond her comprehension?

And more importantly, what did he do to deserve having that kind of dread implanted deeply in his very being? What could a child even possibly do to deserve such fate?

There were myriads of questions she would probably never get an answer to, and a small, selfish part of her was grateful for that. Answers would hurt, and she wasn't sure her heart could take more agony at the moment. Frigga has never been one to seek revenge, but oh, how she wished she could get her hands on the child's tormentor for a minute. Just one single minute would be enough.

Ill will has hardly ever helped anyone though, so the woman took a deep breath, willing her mind to clear from the disturbing thoughts. Never mind Odin and his assumptions – she would gladly read for the child if it would make him stop clutching his knees to his chest in that miserably pitiful way.

She was just about to sit down at the edge of the cage, the children's book already open in her hands, when the crimson color caught her eye, reminding the queen of her previous intentions. She took a small step closer – pretending not to be wounded by the way the boy's fragile body tensed up – and started to examine the organized mess on the floor he created.

The shaky hands and thin fingers left surprisingly straight lines in the dried blood, though Frigga had to tilt her head a bit for the shapes to become clear. She was mildly startled at how accurately the sorcerer managed to copy the letters down, but the symbols he choose to arrange in a word didn't make sense for the queen. Neither did the last character actually – further proving the fact that the Jotun must have learnt a different alphabet at some point – but the first four letters she could read – even if she couldn't understand.

"LůKa," she spelled out in a whisper, but her tone was apparently loud enough to reach the boy's ears. His head shot up at the word, and though there was confusion written on his face, the reaction still gave the woman an idea.

Of course. It was so obvious. What was the first thing that every child learnt to write down – long before they could start constructing more complex words and sentences?

"Is that your name, little one? Luka?" she asked in a curious tone, careful to keep her voice leveled.

His confusion seemed to melt away slightly with her question, and Frigga could clearly see when realization set in on those soft features.

"Luka," she repeated kindly, and the renewed attention he was rewarding her with dissolved her doubts at once. She was sure now that Luka was the boy's name – or, well, at least a part of it. The slight raise of his eyebrows told her she probably didn't get it quite right, but it would have to do for now.

"You have an interesting name, Luka," she smiled as she sat down on the floor, proud at how she managed to distract the child with her voice enough to keep him from jolting. "I'm Frigga," she placed a hand on her chest, and repeated her name to get her point through. She sighed when the Jotun gave no indication he understood what she was trying to say, his stare remaining stubbornly fixated on her hand.

While studying the sorcerer's curious, yet blank expression, a dark thought started to form at the back of Frigga's mind. What if she was right about the boy in her first assessment? Reading and writing skills aside, maybe he was far too gone to be led back into civilized settings. He already attacked her once after all, tearing the skin on—

Oh. So that was what his eyes were searching for so intensively. She healed the scratches on the back of her hand before she returned to her chambers yesterday, not wanting to distress her husband with the petty injury for no reason. The child must have been at a loss regarding where the cuts went, and the simple fact that he actually took notice of the missing wound managed to leave the slight aftertaste of hope on the queen's tongue.

She was perfectly aware that she still might have been right about the boy being nothing more than a savage animal, but… well, a losing battle was still a battle to be fought, and the Queen of Asgard wouldn't be worthy of her title if she turned back at the first obstacle, would she?

"You didn't eat much I see," she observed the tray that someone brought down during the night, resigned to the fact that the food would continue to be left untouched. "Aren't you even thirsty?"

"I think I saw him drink, Your Highness," came the deep voice of a guard from the entrance, reminding Frigga about their presence. "He was chewing on… an icicle… just before you arrived," he finished somewhat unsurely, and the queen could tell he was half-expecting her to laugh at him.

She didn't laugh though – the boy was a Frost Giant, it was normal for him to have the ability to create frozen water. Letting it melt in his mouth was apparently enough to keep him hydrated, and Frigga felt a slight weight being lifted off of her shoulders. Now, if only she could get him to eat a little…

She glanced at the tray next to the bed and examined its content for a while, and a moment later she had the sudden urge to smack herself in the head. Why did this not occur to her earlier?

The tray was packed with so much food that it would easily fill the stomach even of the fiercest Aesir warrior – but that was just the problem. The Aesir differed so much from the Jotnar, both in appearance and habitat… Who was there to say they didn't differ in their nutritional regime as well?

"Send someone to the kitchens," she said to the guard above her shoulder, eyeing the meal with slight disdain. She wasn't very fond of roasted boar, and considering how a child who seemed nearly starved to death refused to touch it, he probably wouldn't disagree with her on the matter. "Have them brought down…" she paused for a moment, unsure about what to feed someone who was born in a realm without fire. What did Frost Giants eat? She seriously started to regret that she never looked up what Jotunheim provided her people with as sustenance. "Have them bring down a bit of everything we have," she finally decided. "Fruit, seeds, cheese... raw meat. Make sure there is nothing cooked."

"As you wish, Your Highness," the guard bowed to her respectfully and hurried off to comply with her request.

Frigga noticed that her commanding tone had made the boy back further into the wall, so she decided to try and comfort him with some reading. She was glad when her words elicited the same reaction as they did yesterday – speech seemed to be the only thing his response was consistent to.

Not ten minutes later the queen was surveying the contents of the trays that the servants arrived with and left next to the one already there, contemplating what to offer to the Frost Giant first. True to her words, there really was a bit of everything the cooks could possibly find, yet she had trouble deciding which one would suit his tastes the most.

She didn't have to ponder for too long though – Luka's expression shifted into curios interest the moment he saw her reach out for a green apple. There must have been fruits that adapted to the harsher climate of Jotunheim, and if the child's hungry gaze was any indication, apples were clearly one of them.

"Would you like to try one?" she extended her arm towards him, offering the pome with hopeful eyes. "Come now, little one… you will like it, I'm sure."

Sadly, the woman's pleading was only enough to earn herself a suspicious glare. Desperate to rid him of mistrust she took a small bite, then approached the boy and placed the apple on the floor at his feet. She didn't suppress her smile when she made it back to her previous spot without even getting a dirty look from him, deliberately ignoring the fact that he might have been simply too preoccupied with his hunger to lash out for the intrusion of his personal space.

"Go on," she cooed, "Eat it. It's yours."

For painfully long minutes, Frigga waited. The boy didn't seem to have any intentions to move, and she didn't intend to leave without ensuring he was fed. A perfect impasse, if there ever was one.

She studied the extent of his injuries while she waited for him to make a move. Most of them were closed up, but the highest layer of his skin was still missing where it had been burned too deeply. His left forearm seemed to be in the worst condition – it was probably the wound that opened again when he tried to escape the cell. Even from afar Frigga could tell it would only take the lightest of touches for it to start bleeding again. It was a truly mortifying sight.

Much to her surprise, her distracted expression seemed to be all it took for him to finally reach for the fruit. He retracted his arm before he could grab it though, and her gaze met with ruby eyes full of questions.

Was it okay for him to take that apple? Would he get punished for doing so? Did she even mean for him to have it?

Not knowing how to communicate her intensions better she smiled at him reassuringly, adding a few words of encouragement merely because she knew he would probably like to hear her talk.

"Fear not now, little one. Take it," she motioned to the green sphere, softening her voice impossibly more. "Please take it, Luka."

Whether it was his name or the desperation that slipped into her voice she couldn't tell, but it seemed to have the desired effect. Luka reached for the apple in a more steady motion than before, but he still paused in mid-air to look up at her, his eyes silently asking for permission. Frigga's smile widened when his fingers finally encircled the fruit. He grabbed it hastily and clutched it to his chest and the woman had to suppress a chuckle as his expression morphed into a snarl the moment she shifted, daring her to take the apple back. A possessive little thing he was.

His injuries didn't prevent him from devouring the fruit with an appetite that easily rivaled even that of Thor's after a long day of sparring, but the queen's spirit fell slightly when she heard him hiss upon bending his arm too quickly. Soon there was blood trickling down on his wrist, and while the amount was nowhere near life-threatening, it still helped her to make a decision. That burn had to be healed, and even though she didn't want to frighten the boy further, she wouldn't take no for an answer.

After Luka was done with the apple – leaving no trace of the core – Frigga took a leap of courage and reached out to gently coax his injured arm into her hands. His eyes instantly filled with rage at the unwanted touch, but he didn't attack or push her away like she expected him to. Putting her astonishment aside she wasted no time in fully encircling the thin wrist with her fingers, letting the familiar light of her healing power emit from her other hand. The Jotun's expression changed into fear in a heartbeat, but instead of lashing out he only forced his eyes shut and turned his head from the sight. It took Frigga a moment to decipher the meaning of his actions, and for the hundredth time that day, she wished she wouldn't understand his motives.

He thought she was going to hurt him, and sadly enough, that wasn't even the worst part. The fact that he was letting her hurt him told her much more about the horrors he had to face during his short years. Was it because of the apple? Has food always came at such a high price where he had been living so far? Was that kind of cruelty what he was accustomed to?

"You are fine, little one. This will only take a minute," she forced the words out through gritted teeth, her rage with his tormentors winning the battle against her grief. "Just a little more, Luka. Stay still just a little more for me," she pleaded, hoping her voice would give some reassurance to the child. Thankfully, the wound closed up quickly due to Eir's previous treatment, but the kid didn't open his eyes once during the process. The queen knew he could only feel some slight tingling around the area she was working on, yet every muscle in his body was tense, expecting the pain to set in any moment. His frightful, yet resigned expression simply didn't let her concentrate, and it seemed like mere words didn't erase his apprehension this time.

The burn was close to being fully healed, but the sorcerer seemed to get closer and closer to scream bloody murder with each passing second. Frigga opened her mouth again, but whatever she intended to say got replaced halfway by a lullaby she learnt from her mother.

"High above the mountains, deep below the sea…"

The sound of her singing apparently surprised the child enough for him to crack one eye open, but the look he sent towards the woman was so hostile Frigga had to gulp to keep her voice steady.

"…Hidden in a realm, where no one could see…"

The lullaby wasn't very long, but it didn't matter. The wound was gone by the time she got to the end of the second verse, and so was his spiteful glare the moment she let go of his arm.

"There," she beamed at him like a child who just received the best birthday present one could wish for. "All better now, isn't it?"

Luka was still holding his hand in the air, obviously expecting her to do something more. He narrowed his eyes at the woman suspiciously, but her only response was a lighthearted chuckle, which prompted him to examine the result of her magic. The flesh above his wrist was still a bit purple, but it was in a way better condition than before. Even one of the thin white lines reappeared, making him gawk at his own birthmark.

He barely had time to register her movements when she was already placing another apple at his feet, the radiant smile never leaving her face.

"Now, how about we do that again? You eat the apple, and then you let me heal another burn."

The suspicion still lingered in the boy's eyes, but the queen wasn't planning on giving up after such a fruitful endeavor.

"Go on Luka, take it," she gestured to the fruit, "Eat, little one. Eat it for me."

And so he did. Surely enough, it took more than just a few words and a couple of forced smiles to convince him to let her heal another burn on his arm, but Frigga was anything but impatient. While the distress never quite left his body, Luka seemed to be slowly becoming a willing participant in the whole process, and in turn, Frigga never stopped humming the same song over and over again – not even when it became obvious he wouldn't flip.

By the time she managed to make him devour the fourth apple he was even willing to open his eyes while she was working on his injuries, keenly observing the procedure with unmasked curiosity. Despite being a Seidr he had clearly never had the chance to witness the workings of healing magic before, and Frigga vowed to explain the basics of it to him if they ever learnt to communicate with each other.

Or, well... on a second thought, maybe that wasn't such a brilliant idea. This was supposed to be a one-time visit after all, wasn't it? Her original intentions included feeding him and healing him only. She could leave the rest to the Healers – they would certainly take good care of the boy.

But oh, the things she could teach him about his magic…

She was already working on a burn near his shoulder when she noticed that his slight trembling worsened. His eyes widened as they studied her hand moving forward, and while he tried to sit as still as possible, his features couldn't hide the fact that he was becoming more and more agitated. She couldn't blame him, really – having a source of light so close to his face obviously didn't sit well with his experiences.

"That should be enough for now, don't you think?" she lowered her arm and let go of his wrist, refusing to be hurt by the way he exhaled in obvious relief. "Perhaps you should rest a bit. Being healed is more exhausting for the body than actually healing someone," she said to the Jotun, completely ignoring the fact that he didn't understand anything of her rambling. He seemed to relax at her words, and compared to yesterday's happenings, she was immensely pleased with their current progress.

Still wary about moving in the space in which he could reach her freely, Frigga stood up slowly, collected the children's book she brought and placed it at his feet – along with the novel from yesterday. Seeing how the boy was busy with staring at the renewed birth lines on his left arm she took the liberty of fetching three more apples, a pear, and the pillow she had sent down with the servants, and carefully laid them next to the books as well.

"Here, Luka," her soft voice caught his attention and dragged him out of his astonished state, but the awe never quite left his crimson orbs. "You should eat these too. And sleep a bit before I…" she paused in mid-sentence, unwilling to imply she would return, even though she knew the meaning of her words wouldn't be deciphered. "…before someone comes to heal the rest of your wounds."

The child's baffled expression didn't change as she stepped out of the cage and turned back to make sure he would take the fruits, and this time she didn't mind that it took her a bit longer to convince him he was supposed to have them.

The queen only turned to leave after the boy grasped the pear uncertainly and held it to his chest, intent on telling Eir about the way she approached him. If the Healer would follow the steps she set up, she would certainly manage to patch him up without the fit he insisted on throwing previously. The secret seeemed to be in the words – if she talked to him the right way, then surely…

But what if he reacted positively to Frigga's voice only? What if he didn't get soothed by another one's speech?

…And why did she selfishly wish he wouldn't?

Frigga let out a defeated sigh at the notion. She really shouldn't let her protective nature take control of her decisions like that, and she most definitely shouldn't think about coming back in the evening…

Her walk to the Great Hall was quiet and undisturbed, and after a while she got so lost in thought she barely noticed her husband appearing in front of her, probably on his way to his study. The man stopped in his track warily, and Frigga had to hide a smile at the familiar way he was trying to read her mood.

"How is he faring?" the king asked in a still somewhat cautious manner, and Frigga was simply unable to hold onto her resentment towards the man. She knew she shouldn't forget about that infuriating smirk he regarded her with just an hour ago, but she could never keep being angry with him for long – especially not when he acted lost as a child. It seemed like despite the long centuries they have spent together, the inner workings of her mind would always remain a mystery to the man.

"He's improving," she replied in a light tone, smiling when she saw Odin relax at her words. She seemed to have a calming effect on children today. "He actually let me heal him a little, but I'm sending Eir down to treat him properly."

"Good," was all he provided with an unreadable expression, his stillness prompting her to go on.

"It's going to take some time until he gets better, but he's a strong child," she paused, biting her lip in thought before she added the next part. "He's… more than I anticipated."

The quiet admission might have been a little uncertain, but it was enough for Odin. That knowing look Frigga currently loathed so much crept up on his face again, and suddenly she felt just as defensive as she did the first time he showed that expression.

"That doesn't mean I consent, Odin," she said sternly and walked past the man without sparing him another glance, unwilling to acknowledge that his smile still affected her just as much as it did the first day they met.

"Of course not, my dear," he retorted simply in an amused tone, and Frigga pretended not to hear him mutter under his breath as he set out in the opposite direction. "Not yet."