"He is a winter prince."

That was what the people said about her Loki. Her younger son had been born during the coldest winter Vanaheim had known this past millennium. They said the chill had entered Loki in the womb, and never left since.

Of course, Frigga had not really birthed him. Neither was he born in that legendary freeze. Loki had come forth a year earlier than his official birthdate, in Jötunheim, where the icy weather would make any winter in Vanaheim seem mild.

Nevertheless, Frigga was grateful this fable had come to be.

When Loki came home, she and Odin had had to come up with a plan to make people believe Loki was theirs. This had resulted in Frigga going to her native realm for a year and a half, supposedly to rest and take some time for herself after ruling Asgard in her husband's place during the war. She had taken the babe and, with a heavy heart, left Thor behind.

Frigga had immediately read all the (few) books she could about the Frost Giants. She learned that they had the capacity to adapt to any temperature with the exception of extreme heat. All the same, she had been afraid to hurt Loki when she gave him a warm bath for the first time, and had gingerly let his fingers touch the water before carefully placing him in the tub. Her fears had been for naught: the baby had cooed and gurgled as she washed him, and cried in annoyance when he had to get out of the water.

But despite his fondness for baths, it was clear that Loki loved the cold. Around his first birthday, he would squeal in delight in her arms whenever she took him out, his eyes filled with joy as he watched the snow fall all around them.

After she returned to Asgard with the new baby, she had hid her agitation as courtiers remarked that Loki was cool to the touch. If she disagreed with Odin about keeping their youngest ignorant of his parentage, she was certain she didn't want Asgard finding out the truth. It was too soon after the war, and there had been little love for Jötunheim to begin with. So after she had finished telling her ladies-in-waiting the story she had spun about Loki's birth, she had been relieved when one of them remarked "Winter left its mark on him".

Today, the people were still none the wiser on her baby boy's lineage. Most of the year, his brother played outside all day while he preferred to stay by her side, in her chambers or the gardens. If Frigga had to attend to some formal business, he would cry and attach himself to her, and she would do her best to reassure him that they would only be separated for a short while.

But when winter came, Loki loved to play in the snow with Thor, and could happily spend hours away from her. Wrapped in a fur coat, Frigga arrived at the field where the boys were building a snow palace. She could tell at a glance which parts were made by which son. Loki's hands were finer and more delicate than Thor's, and besides, he always took off the gloves she gave him to properly shape the snow into towers and gates.

"It's an impressive palace", she said.

"Loki and I made it", Thor informed her proudly.

"It looks strong and beautiful." She took off her gloves, reached down and held Loki's bare hands in her own. They looked and felt no different than usual. "Well, boys, it's time to get back inside." This pronouncement was met with a chorus of "Aww", "Please, Mother", "Please, just a little longer".

Frigga pulled both her sons into a hug and wrapped them in her coat. Thor was clearly ignoring his need to warm himself, but Loki was unbothered by the cold. "No. It's time to get cleaned up for dinner. Your palace will still be here tomorrow. If it thaws and freezes before then, it will turn to ice, and be even more strong and beautiful." Their eyes widened at that. "And there's mulled apple juice waiting for you right now."

She held her sons' hands as they started to make their way back. Loki's head remained turned towards the snow palace, while Thor told her all about its defences.

". . . and the wall is made by dwarfs, and the moat is filled with dragons, and-"

"Mama, Thor, look!" Loki cried suddenly.

Frigga whirled around and gasped. The snow palace had turned into a crystal palace. Everything was encased in a fine glaze of ice. The purple twilight sparkled on the towers, and the walls looked unbreachable.

"How did you do that?" Thor asked.

"I just thought about the palace turning into ice."

The three of them approached the sculpture. Frigga had known Loki had very special abilities since the first time she had been in his presence. She could always feel the magic coursing through his body. She had already taught him how to change the colours of the butterfly illusions she conjured for him, and how to make sparkly tendrils. But controlling water in any form was very complex and difficult, even for a sorceress as gifted as herself. But not for the Jötun, she thought. They control ice, mist, water. Her baby had done with absurd ease what she could not until she was a young woman, after much trial and error. As she examined the palace, she noticed a now frozen bridge between two towers. Loki had made it by packing snow around a stick, just as she had shown him the other day.

Loki looked at her, puzzled and excited. "Mother, is it because I'm a winter prince?".

Frigga picked him up and held him tightly against her. "It means your magic is going to be as beautiful and powerful as winter."