This was supposed to be a one-shot, I know, but after rewatching The Dark World twice in the course of two weeks, the second time this morning at 6:30 am, I just couldn't help myself (since I also hit some kind of a writer's block with my main fic). Frigga's character had so much potential and I just wish we would have seen more of it in the MCU before she had to die.

And I'm gonna put a trigger warning here too, for this bit contains implicit references to self-injuring behavior.

The Queen of Asgard closed the door of her chambers behind her with a soft thud and reached for the magic inside of her, feeling for any signature in the room that was not her own. When she was satisfied that she was entirely alone, she moved her hands in a circular motion and conjured a flickering surface glimmering in the same soft blue as her eyes.

She sighed when the image of her son materialized on the projection after a few heartbeats. Loki was lying on his bed, seemingly asleep, an open book covering most of his face. The fingers of his right hand were softly brushing against the book's binding while his left hand was playing with the fabric of the blanket.

"Something happened to him, Mother," Thor had said to her in a trembling voice after his visit to the dungeons. "Something terrible." He had been reluctant to confide in her at first and, knowing them both, Frigga had instantly deduced that Loki had asked him not to tell her and that Thor was not a man to break a promise.

"Whatever you tell me," she had assured Thor softly, "it is not news to me. I have known for a long time that something happened to him." She had known ever since she had finally caught a horrifying glimpse of Loki after searching the galaxies for any sign of him for months after his fall, finding him pale and sweating, with hollow cheeks, unwashed hair and a wild stare in his eyes.

"Loki," Frigga had gasped, reaching out to him in her astral form, full of hope that the son whom she had feared dead would finally return home.

He had instantly picked up on the magical connection she had at last been able to establish with him from her chambers, turning towards her with a cold gaze that held nothing of the light she had tried so hard to instill in him. "I am sorry," Loki had told her, his voice a soft, unforgiving growl. "Now just isn't a good time." And then he had simply dispersed the spectral apparition she had sent to converse with him.

Yes, something terrible had happened to her son. Frigga knew that. But she knew just as well that Loki was never going to speak of it. Every night for the past four months, she had retired to her chambers for an hour before lying down beside her husband for the night in order to watch Loki in his magical cage in order to make sure he was not trying to escape or harm himself. Most of these nights, he had been still awake reading, fleeing from the dismal reality of his imprisonment, his gaze focused on the words on the pages, his lips pinched together in concentration. Loki had always been an enthusiastic reader and even from a very young age, Frigga had suspected that focusing his attention on a book was one of the few things that stilled his racing mind. He might have scorned the books she had sent to him at first, snarling at her if she wanted him to while away eternity reading, but he had already read more than one-hundred-fifty books during his confinement.

The volume he was currently reading bore the title Mirror Dimension and Frigga shivered slightly when she realized that, even if he might not be able to perform any magic except for simple illusions in his cell at this moment, he would memorize the spells nonetheless.

She watched Loki for a while, her heart aching for the son that had been torn from her grasp by madness, Asgardian justice and whatever agony he had suffered through after his fall into the abyss. Frigga did not know whether Loki would ever return to them and the thought pained her so much that she turned away.

Just as she was about to disperse the projection, Loki moaned softly in his sleep, forcing her to turn her attention to her son once more. Loki's head jerked to the side, sending the book tumbling onto the bed beside him. He moaned again, his fingers clutching the blanket so tightly that his knuckles stood out white. "No … please," he whimpered. "Don't …" His brows drew together in fear and terror. "Don't," he whimpered again and a tear spilled out of his closed eye.

Frigga did not waste a second to conjure a spectral apparition of herself, which she sent into Loki's cell. She knew he would not want her to see him so vulnerable, especially not after their last conversation, but a mother's instinct was to protect her child from pain and danger at all costs. And how direly Loki was in need of her protection! He was writhing beneath his thin covers like a snake, violently jerking away from the terrors lurking inside his troubled mind, his breathing heavy and beads of sweat glistering on his lips and forehead.

"Loki," Frigga whispered with a tight chest as she reached out to touch him, to comfort him, even though she knew that she could not.

"Noooooo!" Loki yelped and then his eyes flew open. He startled into a sitting position, panting heavily.

"Loki," Frigga whispered once more, her hand hovering in the air. Her son's lips trembled as he tried to shake off the shadowy ephemera of his nightmare. He stretched out his hand as well and glanced up at her illusion, his eyes silently pleading for help, comfort, salvation.

The expression of brokenness in Loki's eyes and all the emotions that were for once unguarded in those few seconds, in which dream and reality had not yet fully disentangled, drove Frigga to her knees. As her physical body yielded, her illusion moved closer to her son and placed a hand onto his shaking shoulder as if it would not pass right through his flesh in a faint glimmer of green.

Loki exhaled a trembling breath when he remembered where he was and that he was never to see or touch her again. His eyes narrowed to slits. "Leave," he commanded her in a quavering whisper. "Leave me alone." He sank back onto the bed and turned his back towards her.

"Loki," Frigga whispered for the third time, not knowing what else to say. There used to be a time when her voice had been comfort to him but they were long past that. Something happened to him, Mother. Something terrible.

"Leave. Me. Alone." Loki's voice was colder and sharper than ice and Frigga knew she had no choice but to comply. She whispered her goodbyes and dissolved her illusion. Back in her chambers, she glanced at the projection one more time and watched with a heart that sat almost physically heavy in her chest how her son curled up on his prison cod like a fetus, hugging his legs and sobbing himself back into a fitful sleep.

A single tear trickled down the Queen's right cheek as she dispersed the projection. She brushed it away but more tears pooled into her eyes and blurred her vision, sobs clawing at her throat. "He is not my father!" Loki had yelled at her several weeks ago when she had tried to explain to him that there was a reason for everything Odin did. When she had asked him if that meant that she was not his mother either, she had expected him to deny this but instead he had said, "You're not."

Even though she knew that Loki had uttered those words in sheer despair, that they were a bandage he had wrapped around his bleeding heart, they still hurt because Frigga knew them to be true. Thor had assured her that there was no better mother in any of the Nine Realms and beyond but, while she appreciated her son's esteem, she knew that her eldest was only seeing half the picture. He worshipped her because she had never failed him the way she had failed Loki. She had not been the mother she could have been, should have been. But she would be. By Odin's Ravens, she would be.

She let her tears run dry and left her chambers in search for her husband.

As if sensing the confrontation that awaited him, Odin Allfather was nowhere to be found that night. Frigga did not see him until he joined her at breakfast in her garden the following morning where she was absentmindedly slicing an apple. The King spoke no greeting when he arrived. He merely nodded at her with a grim expression on his face as he lowered his body into the chair opposite from her, Húginn and Múninn perching on each of his shoulders.

"Good morning," Frigga whispered. She put both apple and knife down when she saw in her husband's face that he already knew of Thor's transgression and what she was going to ask of him.

"My ravens have come to me with many glad tidings lately," Odin began, his cold, unforgiving voice oozing authority. He glared at her and clasped his hands in front of his stomach as he settled back into the chair. "Can you imagine how disappointed I am to hear that my own son and wife would conspire against me during such prosperous times?"

Frigga gulped, groping for the right words.

"Say something," Odin snarled at her.

"I worry about our sons," the Queen began. "About both of them. They have—"

"Loki is no longer my son," Odin spoke over her as he reached for a slice of the apple she had abandoned on the table.

His words shook Frigga's very core. "What did you say?"

"I said that I no longer consider Loki my son," Odin repeated but his grim expression softened a little when he saw the fresh tears glistering in her eyes. "Frigga, what he did …" His voice trailed off.

"I know what he did," Frigga told him, the list of Loki's crimes ever visible in her mind's eye. Abuse of Asgard's most powerful weapon. Abuse of the Bifröst for the obliteration of hostile forces. Destruction of the Bifröst. Violation of the peace treaty with Jotunheim. Declaration of war upon Midgard and slaughter of innocent mortals. Violation of the Allfather's oath of protection. And worst of all, his attempt to end his brother's life. Betrayal was and had always been the Aesir's most hated crime and it remained punishable by death if an Asgardian tried to take another Asgardian's life.

"Then why are you questioning my verdict?" Odin asked, drilling his one-eyed gaze into her. "Why are you betraying the express commands of your King?"

"Because we bear part of the blame," Frigga said softly and once the words were out of her mouth, they pained her even more. "Loki would never have come undone in such a way if we had not lied to him all those years."

Odin's good eye narrowed. "If we had told him the truth as a boy, he would have only lost his mind that much sooner."

Frigga shook her head. "You cannot know this."

"I do know this as I know everything that transpires in the Realms."

Did you know that most of Midgard does not even have kings anymore? Thor's words echoed through Frigga's skull. One person who decides what is best for everyone? One person whose powers are unchallenged and unquestioned? That is not wise. Her son's words and his unshakable belief in her importance gave Frigga courage. She straightened in her chair and asked, "If you knew, then why did you bring him into Asgard? Why did you let me raise a boy as my own that you knew was going to attempt to kill your first-born son?"

Odin's flat hand slammed onto the table with such force that Frigga startled but she continued nonetheless. "Is all of this not your fault then?"

Odin barked a laugh. "What happened that turned you so rebellious, hm?"

Frigga recoiled at how he belittled her but the shock and the anger gave her even more strength. "You might see everything that transpires in the Realms, yet you remain blind to what happens in your own home. First Hela—"

"How dare you speak this name?" Odin hissed quietly.

"Then Thor and Loki," Frigga continued as she rose, her husband mirroring her movements. She thought of the look of terror and forlornness on Loki's face, thought of how much he needed her and of how much he despised himself for needing her. "Do you still not see that all three of them hungered for your love and your esteem and that one of the reasons Loki lost his mind and committed those crimes is because you let him starve?"

Odin lunged towards her, slapping her face. "I am the Allfather, woman! Do you think I would have been able to keep us safe for as long as I have if I had let myself be distracted by matters of the heart?"

Frigga exhaled a trembling breath and brushed her fingertips against her stinging cheek. Faced with such despicable treatment, she swore to herself that she would no longer cower before him. "You dare to raise your hand against me?" she hissed. "After all I have done for you?"

A look of terror and incredulity flickered across Odin's face. "Forgive me," he mumbled.

"I am aware of what Loki did to us. I am aware of the darkness growing inside his heart and have been for a long time," Frigga told him firmly, reciting the words she had practiced when she had waited for him the previous night. "I am also aware that his actions cannot go unpunished. I will, however, no longer tolerate that I shall not see him. The darkness inside him will grow even more if he wastes away in this cell day after day; persuading himself that he does not deserve either my company or my comfort."

"He does not deserve your comfort," Odin snorted and his face twisted into a grimace of pain and sorrow. "He tried to kill our son, Frigga. Our real son."

"Loki is as much your son as Thor!" Frigga yelled. "You brought him here for a purpose I have never dared to question but it was you—you!—who thrust him into my arms and told me to raise him! You told him stories, balanced him on your knees, kissed him goodnight." Tears for a past long lost spilled out of her eyes and streamed down her cheeks. "How can you say that he is not your son?" Frigga wept. "Have you no heart?"

"I do," said Odin, "and it broke when he strayed off his path. But I am King. I must see the threat he poses to Asgard because that is something you are blind to, my love."

"I am not blind," Frigga whispered, mentally flinching from the term of endearment. "I watched him in his cell. He is in so much pain. Something terribly agonizing must have happened to him and he will not speak of it."

Odin shook his head vehemently but his resistance was slowly beginning to crumble.

"You and I both know that Loki was not sane when he sent the Destroyer after Thor and that he was even less sane when he attacked Midgard," Frigga continued, her voice gaining force. "Someone bred the madness and the darkness inside of him after he fell and that someone might be an even bigger threat to us than any of the Marauders Thor has been fighting back. But Loki will not tell us anything if we keep him locked away like an animal."

"You cannot suggest that we let him walk free as if no crime had been committed," Odin mumbled.

"No," said Frigga. "But I will talk to him in the flesh whenever I please from now on and so will Thor. I will further let him out to take a walk with me every once in a while. Those are my terms." She caught Odin's gaze and held it even though her heart was beating so fast that she feared it might shatter any moment.

"You and Thor may speak to him," Odin finally relented. "But I will not allow anyone to break the seal of magic around his cell. If anything happened—if he escaped or hurt one more Asgardian—it would weigh too heavily on your mind. Besides," he finished, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips, "if you tried, you would find that even your magic is not powerful enough to break the seal."

Frigga gave a nod, fully aware of the threat he had left unsaid. "I understand."

"Good." That said, Odin turned away and left her to her breakfast, which she hastily swept into a basket with her magic before she took herself to the dungeons to look after her son in the flesh after four long months.

Loki was pacing the length of his cell when Frigga arrived after a brief conversation with the baffled guards, his hands clasped behind his back, his gaze focused on the floor. He was clad in the same casual leathers of green and brown he had worn when she had last seen him by day but his feet were bare.

Frigga clutched the picnic basket to her chest and cleared her throat. "Loki?"

He swung around and stared at her with his brilliant emerald eyes that burned with a feral green light. Oh, those beautiful, intelligent eyes. Frigga smiled. "Hello, my son."

"Do not call me that," Loki snapped at her in a soft growl. "Just tell me what ails Asgard enough for me to suddenly receive visitors with such frequency." His eyes flickered angrily but there was an edge of fear to his voice and Frigga knew that her son was aware of a threat lurking beyond their borders that none of them could even fathom.

"I had words with the King," said Frigga, careful not to refer to Odin as his father again just now, "and your sentence has been altered. It took me a while but you are now allowed to see us."

Loki's eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"What do you mean 'why'?" Frigga asked back.

Loki shook his head and a sound that was half-sigh, half-cackle escaped his lips. "It matters not. I do not wish to see you, Mother," he mocked her and turned away. "Please, go."

Frigga gulped. "I am sorry, Loki. I don't think I ever properly apologized to you for keeping the circumstances of your birth secret from you."

"The circumstances of my birth," Loki echoed thoughtfully, his teeth pulling at his lower lip as he glared at her over his shoulder. "That is a dreadfully euphemistic way of putting it, don't you think?"

If only his mind was a little less sharp, a little less quick, a little less self-destructive, he might be able to save himself, Frigga sighed inwardly. "Maybe," she said, "but the truth that remains is that I am deeply sorry. I know you did not deserve such treatment but he would not let me tell you. He would not let me see you either but this time, I opposed him because—"

Loki was still glowering at her. "Because what?"

Because I have seen that you are in pain. Because I know that you need me. Because I know that you are lonely. Because I can only imagine the unspeakable torment you have suffered. Because I know that you long to speak about it, long for comfort, but would never permit yourself to be vulnerable even for one moment. Because I hope I can still save you.

Frigga said none of those things. What she said was, "Because I love you."

Loki snorted a laugh. "Yes, thank you for that."

"Loki, please," Frigga pleaded softly. "I am your mother. I will always be your mother. Can you not see that?"

He shook his head, tears springing to his eyes, and she realized with a sudden clarity that all the pain he was trying to mask with his sarcasm and his wrath would pose too much of a threat to what was left of his sense of self if he let it in now. Loki brushed the tears away in one swift motion and swallowed. Every fiber in his body strained with his effort to lock his emotions away and Frigga could sense his pain as clearly as she could sense the magical signatures humming through every fiber in the thick pane of Seiðr between them.

"Loki," Frigga whispered.

"Go," he pleaded, his voice rapidly changing from a sob to a growl and back into a sob as if he was speaking with two different voices. "And do not come back. And tell Thor to stay away as well."

Frigga shook her head, placed the picnic basket on the floor and fished a little leather pouch out of her pocket. It was a powerful weapon she was not even supposed to have and she knew that Odin would punish her for what she was about to do. She did not care. She untied the pouch and, with a hiss, all the magic surrounding them streamed into it. The pane separating them dissolved. The illusion Loki had created of the cell and himself faded, and he was standing barefoot on a floor smeared with blood before her now, his hair unkempt, his eyes cried-red, the furniture and crockery behind him smashed to pieces. He hastily pulled his rolled-up sleeves down and a fragment of porcelain clattered to the floor behind him as he stumbled backwards.

"How many more times do I have to ask you to leave me alone?" Loki pleaded. "You cannot … I don't … Just go!" he wailed but Frigga was already climbing into the cell.

Loki fled from her approach until he reached the wall and he pressed his back against it as if it would swallow him and protect him from his vulnerability, his neediness, his weakness.

"Come here," Frigga whispered and pulled her son into her arms, feeling the sharp edges of his bones beneath her fingertips. Loki tried to jerk away at first, whimpering in protest, but she pressed him closer to her chest and eventually, he crumbled, sinking against her like the lost and frightened child that he was. Frigga sank to the floor with him, cradling his fragile body as he wept, his violent sobs choking every sentence he was trying to start.

"Shshhsh," Frigga whispered, her lips brushing against his hair. "I am here, Loki. I will always be here."

Author's Note:

Okay, so the bit where Frigga found Loki shortly before he attacked Earth, sending an illusion to talk to him, is taken from the Dark World Prelude *coughs* I am not sure if I will continue this at some point. It might be interesting to see where I could take this but for now I have no more ideas and my main fic is waiting to be finished. That said, I am going to see you all soon, I hope.