Author's Note: This is just a quick little drabble, but I was rereading the chapter and had this plot bunny, so I quickly typed it up.

Enjoy and review!

It has been almost a year since Loki fell in the Void.

Frigga stared out her bedroom window, her heart still aching for the loss of her son even as she stood tall and regal, a figure of perfect calm and of strength for her realm.

Thor's lessons on being a king were coming to an end, Frigga knew, and soon he would be ready to take the throne. Ever since Thor was banished to Midgard to learn humility, though, he had refused to take the throne, first using grief and later lessons as excuses to postpone it.

At first, Frigga had been enraged that her son used Loki's death as an excuse to not do work. She had thought that Thor cared more for his brother than that, even if Loki told him that he was a Jotun. While Loki had truly believed that being Jotun by birth meant he was a monster (and Frigga still cursed Odin for bringing her son up to hate his own species) she had been sure that Thor could see past the prejudice to his brother inside the blue shell. Her heart had been ripped even more when it seemed she had raised her other son to bow to stereotypes as well.

Thor coming to her later and explaining had cooled her fury a bit, but it still didn't fully abate.

No, her anger still burned strong, at Thor, at Odin, even at herself, for failing Loki so badly. She hadn't even seen the problems, the self-loathing, the fear that Loki had held through the entire ordeal and up to the point where he took his own life.

Frigga was his mother. She should have seen the signs that her own son was suffering.

And now her one remaining son was suffering the approaching burden that he had realized he didn't want far too late. If Loki was alive, they would have shouldered the throne together - Thor commanding the people, with Loki planning strategy beside him - but Loki was dead, killed by his parents' neglect and his brother's shadow.

Frigga almost burst into tears at the thought. She took a ragged breath, then another, trying to keep the pressure behind her eyes at bay.

Suddenly too tired to watch over her realm, Frigga turned away from the sun, heading to her bed and drawing the curtains around her. It had been a year, but the pain of losing her youngest son - the son that she taught all of her tricks to, to try and give him something of his own to be proud of - was still stabbing. Some days it was all she could do to get out of bed, to smile at Thor, to say good morning to Odin. Some days all she wanted was to stay in bed, curl up, and cry.

Suddenly, a blinding headache ripped through her skull. She grabbed her head and collapsed, the pain too much to even breathe, let alone scream, but she forced her lungs to drag in a breath, and then another. Frigga dragged herself to the end of the bed, gripping the post, waiting for the blinding light behind her eyelids to solidify into shapes.

The glimpse of the future was brief - a flash of black hair, old-fashioned robes of black and emerald green, silver and white potions, a stick waving in the air...

As soon as it came, the vision faded and the pain with it, leaving Frigga panting and collapsing onto her back. Even though all her energy had been used up, she smiled, a true smile for the first time since Loki fell.

When Frigga first got the vision of magic on Midgard, and magic saving her son, she had naturally assumed it would be Thor. After all, her older son was the adventurer, the one who ran headfirst into danger, and she believed that of the two of them, he was most likely to find true danger on Midgard. When Odin had banished Thor, Frigga assumed that the vision had been true, and her visit to Midgard years earlier had been to help Thor through his banishment.

She never expected that her vision would be for Loki.

He's alive, she thought gleefully. My son's alive.

Frigga knew that she couldn't tell anyone what she had seen. Her visions were immensely private, never to be shared with another soul. The rest of Asgard would learn of their prince's miraculous survival in time.

Until then, Loki would have time to recuperate and heal from what had happened to him, both on Asgard and in the Void.

Until then, Frigga had to keep Loki's survival to herself, the mantra repeating in her head. Loki's alive. My son is alive.

Beaming, Frigga drifted off to sleep, knowing that it would be hard to wait to see her son again, but that not all hope was lost.

Loki was alive. Thank the Norns, Loki was alive.