Odin had not been in Frigga's private quarters since her death. Why Munin insisted he come here he could not figure out. The raven was currently perched on the fountain trying to drink the stale water. It was behaving strangely only a few minutes before, screeching and squawking and wouldn't leave him alone. After it realized Odin was not listening to it the raven took to charging at king. When he made an attempt to listen to it he could not understand the bird, as he usually could. The only thing Odin could do was follow the frantic bird.

Beyond the fountain a guard stood at attention waiting for a command. Odin placed a hand on the pillar and took view of the golden structures shining red with the setting sun. Trees cast shadows and waterways glimmered with light. From this point of view Asgard was whole and undamaged. A breeze caught his hair and garments, a quality of this place his late queen favored most of all. The memory of her body lying only a few steps down from the tiles he now stood lingered in the back of his mind.

A door slammed shut in the distance, followed by the sound a short scuffle. He would be alarmed if not for the flutter of wings and screech of distress from the raven now flying over his head. The poor thing was having a crisis.

Odin turned to give the guard a command but the sight of gold and blue silk and strawberry blonde hair silenced his words.

"Hello, my love." Frigga greeted him warmly. She sat on the edge of the fountain with her legs crossed. One hand played idly with a floating rose petal, the other was tucked behind her back.

"Have you tired of haunting my dreams?" Odin asked, descending the stairs to meet her. "Must you bother me in my waking hours as well?"

She raised her eyebrows but then morphed her face into a sly expression. "Possibly."

"What have you there tucked behind your back?"

Her eyes dropped to her shoulder then trailed down the rest of her arm. Like a child presenting a gift she held up a dagger and smiled sweetly.

"Come to take me with you?"

"Possibly." She repeated.

A moment of silence passed between the two. The wind picked up again outside and Frigga turned her attention to it. Then, as though fully realizing the space she inhabited, began examining the room. Eyes traced the curvature of the architecture, then down the columns to the steps and finally the large slabs of tile of the floor. The sly smile turned sour when she got to the grout. In the aftermath of the queen's death her blood was hastily mopped up by one of her handmaidens, but looking closely Odin could still see shades of red embedded between tiles.

"We are not in a hurry to commit dastardly deeds?"

Her head snapped to his attention. Eyes blinked back tears in skillful, practiced manor. The smile returned. "No," she strained. Another attempt was made, "One perk of being among the dead is the lack of previous engagements."

"Then perhaps we shall walk and talk for a while." He extended a hand and she took it.

"You trust me to be on this side? I may just get it in my mind to kill you and you will not see me coming." A tinkle of laughter.

"Then death will be painless and swift."

"An undignified death for my warrior."

"Then it is very well that I am a king and not a warrior."

She tried to take him by the arm, but he denied her that pleasure. A simple hand holding was as much physical contact as he wanted with this thing. Her heels clicked heavily on the tiles below sending echoes off the walls back at them. She greeted the guards warmly when they passed, her presence stopping them coldly mid step. Every single one of them sent fearful, questioning glances at Odin, but their king paid them no mind. He felt he had full control over the situation and was not in need of their assistance.

The conversation was unremarkable small talk with such topics such as the weather and what the kitchens had served for breakfast and lunch. Then they moved onto more adventurous topics like the restoration of Asgard and the chaotic events of the day before. His companion seemed to hang on every word. Odin did not mind the dull conversation as he had a destination in mind and he continued to lead the creature in his company to it.

"The throne," Frigga sighed. She let go of his hand and climbed the first few steps. She stopped midway and cradled the dagger delicately in both hands. She made sure he did not forget the dagger.

"I never did care for the décor of it," she commented. "My throne would be far more ornate and delicate, something which would take a long time to construct and form." While she spoke she ascended the stairs, making sure he heard every step her foot touched. "Something that shows you the person sitting upon it was worth all those hours of labor."

"Then it is a good thing that throne is mine and not yours," Odin called up at her.

He caught a sliver of a glare over her shoulder as she made her last step. She turned to look down at him, slowly lowering herself on the throne, savoring every minute movement of her body and clothing on the gold.

Her head tilted back and she looked down at him. "How do I look, Odin?" Her tone reeked with amusement. Odin allowed the moment, but stared coldly back up at her. "You do not like me on your throne. I can see it in your face."

"I do not," he said with venom. "Perhaps in the past, but at this time I do not."

"Don't lie. The only person appropriate for your throne is you. All others fail in comparison. But even you will die and decay and Asgard will go on without you."

"Then you will have to show me your trick on returning to the land of the living." She liked this answer, giving her first real laugh. "However, I believe you will keep that secret from me, leaving Thor to collect the keys of the kingdom."

"Do you really think this is the best place for Thor?"

"Thor is not unworthy. He is a child at times and quick of temper more often than not, but he is learning."

"That's not what I asked," she said shaking her head. "I'm asking if naming him king is…"

"And what makes you so certain you would do better?" She opened her mouth to speak but he did not let her. "You who threw a galactic tantrum because I would not give it to you?" She laughed nervously and tried to speak again. "You are so quick to demonize others when you can't even take responsibility for your own wickedness, Loki!"

The figure on the throne blinked at him, then hung her head in defeat.

"Let me ask again," Loki said changing his features to his original form "How do I look?"

"Alive," barked Odin.

"Just barely, I assure you." Sunken eyes and hallowed cheeks gave truth to this statement. "The rumors of my heroics are all true. Such a shame because I would have paid good money to see the Incredible Hulk fling that Dark Elf monstrosity around like a ragdoll."

"Enough, Loki."

"I thought I was doing quite well. What gave me away? It was the killing bit, wasn't it? Honestly I haven't committed to killing you yet. You see, I'm still debating that with myself. In hindsight killing you would not be something dear old Frigga..."

"Enough!" Odin repeated. "You are rambling. I've caught you in a lie and now you are trying to save face. You forget I know you just as well as you know me."

"Oh I'm shocked you pulled your attention away from Thor long enough to…"

"Enough, Loki. I do not have it in me to argue at this time. And from the sight of you neither do you."

"Oh, how wrong you are. I'm just bubbling with rage," Loki spat down at him.

"Very well," Odin sighed. "Let's have it. Which atrocity will you throw at me now?"

"Are you giving me a stage? How very thoughtful."

"That is what you always wanted, a stage with my exclusive audience. Only me to watch you. You have free reign to perform."

Loki shook his head, "…no that's not…"

"Then what do you want? What antics do you have for me?"

Loki looked offended. "They weren't antics!"

"Then you wish to be chastised? I thought your trip to the dungeons covered that. Do you wish to be drawn and quartered as well? Or is flaying more to your liking?"

"No, that's not it. Will you stop that!"

"Shall I exile you to Muspelheim? I bet Laufey would enjoy that one. A realm of fire must be torture on a Frost Giant."

"Do not speak of my parentage!" Loki bellowed. Odin savored the physical pain on his face.

"Why not? Is that not the root of all our discrepancies? I saved your life and brought you here to thrive and care for you as my own."

"No it is not! You only wanted to use me! I'm not a child, I am a tool. A weapon to use to your own advantage. I'm not a…"

"You do not feed, clothe, and love a weapon, Loki," Odin shouted. "You were not locked in a vault, not kept prisoner. You were my son!"

"Ah, 'were', not 'are'. A slip of tongue reveals your true feelings. Why does Thor get a chance at redemption and acceptance? Am I not his equal?"

"You are not!"

"Ah, now we're getting somewhere. Tell me more, 'father'. Why do I not have a shot at redemption?"

"Because you have been given far too many!" Odin seemed to double in size with rage. He ascended the stairs with great haste and lifted Loki off the throne by his lapels. "How many do you think you get?"

"You threw me in the prisons!" Loki's tried to seem stable but his squeaking voice betrayed him. His second attempt at strength was even shriller. "How could I redeem there?"

"You are not sorry for your crimes. When you were brought back here all you did was cry about your 'birthright' for a throne. You care so little for the people around you. How dare you believe yourself a better king over Thor!"

"You…you…" Loki's mind raced. What had he said to Frigga? 'The lives you took' 'A mere handful to that of Odin.' What had he said to her in their final meeting? Loki's mind did not race fast enough to save him.

"I am not your excuse to act like a spoiled child!" Odin bellowed.

Yes you are, Loki thought. Tears streamed down his face as he shook his head. He wanted to scream and hurl all the hatred inside him at Odin but all he could say was "You never loved me!" He sobbed at how inadequate and childish those words were.

"How could I show you more love when you did not give me any in return? I saved you, I brought you here! I risked my kingdom and reputation just to take you in and you never showed one ounce of gratitude! And when you found out who you were you loved me less! After everything I've done for you, you still choose to cling to Frigga over me!"

"I killed Laufey for you," Loki pleaded.

"You killed Laufey to better your own image! You wanted a throne you could not have simply to impress everyone around you. That is why you threw away your rightful title of Jotunheim. Why rule a cold, defeated place when everyone could see you sitting on the gilded throne of Asgard?"

"I did it…" Loki sobbed, "…to show you…I picked you…"

"You are a selfish, arrogant child. You are only capable of loving one person and that is Loki."

"That's not true." The words were whispers, unheard over Odin's echoes. He loved Frigga. He loved Thor. He loved…

Odin pulled him closer to his face. "Loki cares only for Loki. You want everyone to feel as miserably as you do. No one can be happy so long as Loki snivels!"

Odin's words struck Loki hard, opening every emotional wound inside him. Anger, rage, and misery coursed through his blood stream in an electric current looking for an outlet.

Odin gagged and reached for his own throat. His fingers clasped over the wound but the red blood oozed between his fingers. Odin's face paled quickly, but radiated anger and spite. He was unable to speak but Loki knew exactly what he wanted to say.

Though Loki was confused in those first few moments the king's blood on his dagger allowed him to piece the horrific events together. He reached out to his father to try to stop the blood, but Odin shoved him back. The force of the action propelled the king backward, landing in an ungraceful lump at the foot of the stairs.

Loki stared at the lump, waiting for it to get up and assault him. All it did was wheeze and grunt. When it occurred to Loki Odin was still alive he rushed to him. He cradled Odin's head against his chest and applied pressure to the wound. He remembered Frigga's bloodstained dress and wondered if this scene was really happening. The pungent scent of copper and sticky wetness on his fingers told him otherwise.

Odin lifted a limp hand and prodded at Loki's shoulder, making grunts of frustration when he could not successfully push him away. Loki brought his father's head to his lips and whispered frantic prayers into Odin's forehead.

"Don't die, please don't die. You can hate me forever, do all those terrible things to me, set my blue head on a spike if it pleases you, just so long as you live to do so. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" Loki broke into a shrill mantra, rocking back and forth.

Over his distress he did not feel Odin go limp in his arms, nor did he hear the last hissing breath pass his lips. The old god hung dead in his arms while he continued his futile attempt to plead life from it.