Disclaimer: I do not own the original canon nor am I making any profit from writing this piece. All works are accredited to their original authors, performers, and producers while this piece is mine. No copyright infringement is intended. I acknowledge that all views and opinions expressed herein are merely my interpretations of the characters and situations found within the original canon and may not reflect the views and opinions of the original author(s), producer(s), and/or other people.

Warnings: This story may contain material that is not suitable for all audiences and may offend some readers. Please utilize understanding of personal sensitivities before and while reading.

Author's Note (Words of Interest): barn is Old Norse for "child" (and is gender-neutral); the Norns are the fates of Norse mythology; Vanir and Aesir are different sets of Norse deities

Author's Note(s): So, I watched Thor: Ragnarok and got attacked by plot bunnies about things. I might have spent too many years studying Norse mythology before I started watching MCU stuff.

Fem Power Challenge Information:
Fill Number: 05
Representation(s): Frigga
Bonus Challenge(s): Not A Lamp
Word Count: 822 (Story Only); 843 (Story & Epigraph)

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The Weight of Fate
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"Not flesh of my flesh, nor bone of my bone, but still miraculously my own."
– Fleur Conkling Heyliger
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It shocked Frigga sometimes how short even Asgardian memories were. Even her husband-king forgot that it was her power which allowed him to be in the position to wage his little unification war. It was her power shared through their bond that gave him the time to prepare properly and it was her power running through their eldest's body which gave Hela the ability to claim a domain for herself.

It was her power which sustained the peace once it was won.

No one ever said that being the Goddess of Creation is an easy mantle to wear. So many things fell under such a domain. Magic and how it may be used were really such small things compared to the burden of countless lives in an infinite number of forms. With a single touch (or glance if the impact was great enough), she knew the fate of all things, even her own children. With a single breath, she could rip away their ability to choose their path, blow them onto a different road.

Such was the weight she carried, to have the power to change things but the understanding that it must not be used.

She loved the children she bore her husband, all of them. Even if they broke her heart with some of their decisions, she still loved them. She also loved the children the Norns sent her to be taught. Even knowing that they would leave her tutelage eventually, she loved them as her own. She knew that love was returned, even if Heimdall was the only who stayed. Raising a child knowing that they were meant to destroy their own home was difficult. Doing it twice from either side of the equation was even more so.

Yet of all her children, Frigga had only one heir. She knew as soon as Odin had first laid eyes upon the child that her true heir had been found. She felt the touch of magic weaving through her husband's thoughts as he picked up the infant, tiny for a giant's offspring and left on an altar within an empty temple, and she knew the importance of this single babe.

Asgardian memory may be surprisingly short, but Creation would always remember that Destruction was how it started. The making of things would always be in the unmaking of that which came before. The cycle was set long ago: entropy into death into infinity into eternity and all again.

Frigga was waiting when Odin returned with his spoils. He would have spoken of victory and triumph, of an enemy defeated and a land conquered. It would have been pretty words to describe a massacre with impending genocide to follow. Instead of letting him say more than a few words of greeting, she held out her arms for the stolen babe. Odin knew better than to hesitate.

Such was the power of a mother and a queen.

"I thank you, husband," she said once her arms were filled. She pressed a kiss to his bearded cheek before focusing on the babe. She cuddled her precious bundle close as she had Thor until he began to insist that he was too old for such coddling. She nuzzled the child, who blinked at her with eyes the color of spring leaves. "Hello, little heir. I've been waiting to meet you for so long."

"My Queen," Heimdall stated with a bow of his head and shoulders. Frigga turned to her greatest student. The Gatekeeper touched the closed fist of his main sword-hand to the opposite shoulder before sliding it to cover his breastbone and pulling it straight out towards her and her newest child. She nodded an acknowledgement of his declaration.

"My loyal Gatekeeper, I present to you, my sole heir," she announced. Her words held the weight of prophecy that all recognized. She looked around the crowd gathered in the Gate House before settling once more on the Jotun babe in her arms. "My heir shall be known before the Norns as Loki Friggabarn, the Binder of Realms and Breaker of False Truths. This is my will."

"My Queen," Heimdall acknowledged. She knew that at least one would See the truth in her decree, even limited to the present as his ability was. It was the way of seers to know there were other ways to live beyond one's own culture. Like the Vanir she hailed from, the Jotun had different manifestations of sex than the Aesir did. Odin would no doubt challenge her naming of the babe, would spread his own claim upon the child to the citizens of the Golden Realm. She may even allow it, as the Norns had their name already, and now none could touch Loki's fate beyond herself.

The memory of fate was even longer than that of creation.

No mortal lie could ever hope to outlive it, not even an Asgardian one.

Such was the burden of infinity.

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An Ending
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