Chapter Text
“Of all the lovely walks through the palace gardens, why would you choose to come here ?” Thor looked around in bafflement at the gloomy arboretum his mother had selected for their promenade. Though he knew well his mother hailed from Vanaheim, he had assumed she also preferred Asgard’s vibrant colors and strong, towering trees to the subdued hues of her home realm.
The Vanir’s foliage was not unappealing, but it was so…simplistic. Small blooms stretched for leagues around them in pale white and gray, like snow leeching all the color and life out of the ground beneath it. Overhead, willowy black trees draped across the path, their thin, leafy branches hanging down in a curtain of midnight blue. It gave the garden an ominous feeling as it blanketed everything in darkness.
“Did you ever notice where Loki chose to spend his time when outside?”
Thor shrugged, “I usually found him reading up in a tree if I ever could find him to begin with.”
Frigga smiled faintly, “When you could not find him, it was because he was often here. The only place where no one would seek him but me.” Frigga turned toward Thor, placing a delicate hand on his armored shoulder. “You have always been so bold, my son. It is a great strength, but it has often blinded you when it comes to your brother. He came here because the seidr of Vanaheim is as much a part of him as it is of me. He did not study the magic of my realm for mere trickery—although we both know he used it well in that regard.”
Thor chuckled as memories of Loki’s finest mischief flipped through his mind like pages in a book.
“Loki is much like this garden, my son. Many overlook it because they do not understand it, but it holds great power and wisdom for those who would give it a chance. Yes, there is darkness. But there is also much light to be found.”
Frigga reached up to grasp a branch that hung near Thor’s cheek and gave it a firm shake.
The darkness of the forest was suddenly flooded in a soft blue glow as small seed pods floated from the branches, their shimmering luminescence reminding Thor of sunlight reflecting through deep waters. Thor watched in awe as the seeds floated to the ground, their light gradually disappearing in the soft soil at his feet.
“Why have you never shown me this? It is marvelous!” Thor grabbed hold of another branch and shook it vigorously, releasing a flurry of glowing seed pods.
“You hardly had much interest in the gardens, and Loki held this place sacred in his heart. I wanted him to show you when he was ready. You see, these trees hold great power that feeds the growth around them. Without the seeds of these willows, the fields of Vanaheim’s white flowers would never even exist.” Frigga gestured further down the path, where a field of white blossoms spread throughout the rest of the Vanir garden. “Vanir roses can spread and overtake entire valleys thanks to the strength lent them by the willows that cast such dark shadows. One cannot thrive without the other.”
Thor nodded in understanding, “You speak of more than simple botany. Loki is the willow, and I the flower?”
Frigga nodded, “Perhaps once. But sometimes a flower must learn to survive on its own, just as the willow must tend its own growth for a time before it is ready to give of itself again.”
Thor pondered this as he stared at the expanse of Vanir roses that flourished far beyond the reach of the trees. Had he abandoned Loki in this way? Or was this what Loki needed?
“Thor, I would have words with you about your plans regarding Jotunheim,” Thor tensed at the hesitation in his mother’s tone, and hardened even further at her doubt in his mission.
“Am I not Regent of Asgard, Mother? Am I not obligated to do what I feel is best for Asgard? For you?”
“Yes, my darling, but are you certain this path is wise? Your meeting with Laufey did not go well, but he is still powerless to act against you—”
“For how long, Mother? How long must we wait in cowardice while Laufey builds his own army against us? I will not stand idly by while that monster threatens everything we hold dear!”
All the venom left Thor like a punch in the gut as a different Jotun face sprang to mind, staring back at him with terror and complete betrayal.
Seeming to follow his train of thought, Frigga gently took his hand and whispered, “And what of your brother? He is their kin. Does that make him a monster? Can he really be the sole exception among an entire race?”
Before Thor could come up with an answer that satisfied him, a guard bounded down the path, calling breathlessly for them. “The King! The King has awakened!”
Thor and his mother were led not to the King’s chambers, but to the throne room, where Odin sat brimming with the return of his power. Garbed in his golden armor and clinging to Gungnir—not for support as he had months ago, but wielding it as a ruler should—Odin looked down at his son with the emotionless expression Loki oft referred to as his “regal politician” guise, though Thor could see the light of joy in his one good eye.
“My son, I thank you for tending to Asgard in my stead these past days. The Odinforce is once again strong, and our people have many centuries of peace before us.”
Thor bowed on one knee, dipping his head to hide the disappointment that his father did not appear intent on coronating him as he almost had before the Jotun’s attack. He also couldn’t help but notice Odin made no mention of continuing Thor’s conquest against Jotunheim, which would surely be put to an end now. Still, his father was well again and there would be time for such arguments later.
Right now, Thor had more urgent matters in mind, for if anyone could successfully bend the Allfather’s ear, it was the Silvertongue himself. “Father, it brings gladness to my heart that you are hale again, and it would bring me even greater joy to see our family similarly restored.” Thor looked up to Odin, steeling himself against the sorrow overtaking the Allfather’s expression. “I beseech you, Odin Allfather. Bring my brother home. He has suffered great punishment and I assure you his lesson is well-learned. If you will not restore his seidr, at least restore his position as Prince of Asgard.”
Odin rose slowly from his throne and descended the steps of the dais with grace and authority. He stopped to kiss his wife, taking her hand in his with affection before looking at Thor. Despite being at eye level with his father for over a century, Thor still felt small in his presence.
“Thor, nothing would gladden my spirits more than to bring Loki home. But the choice is no longer mine to make—it is his.” Odin sent a blast of power out of Gungnir, which formed a large sphere in front of the throne. Thor watched as an image of Loki materialized on the sphere, sitting in a large field with the same woman Thor had seen his brother walk in intimate counsel with on his brief visit to Midgard.
The woman was laughing at something Loki had said, and Loki smiled back with an ease that Thor had not seen in his brother for…honestly, he couldn’t recall the last time Loki looked so content. Then Loki did the one thing he shouldn’t have been able to. He used his seidr.
It was a small spell, one of the first he ever learned from their mother. Thor recalled the day Loki managed to conquer it himself—the little god had come bursting into the room where Thor and Fandral were sparring, eager to show off his newfound skill to his big brother. Thor was amazed at the bright fireworks Loki shot from his palm, small and brief as they were. But Fandral had teased Loki relentlessly.
“Such trickery is a woman’s craft, little prince,” Fandral had sneered at the younger Asgardian, “You should be spending more time strengthening your combat skills with warriors like us and less time at your mother’s teat.”
The next day, Fandral found himself wearing a rather revealing dress in the middle of a grand feast, quite unsure how it had happened and insisting he was actually wearing his armor. This was the second spell Loki ever learned.
“His seidr has returned! That means his lesson has been learned, Father! Bring him home!”
“Yes, Thor, a lesson has been learned. But a choice must still be made. I will not bring him back to Asgard against his will, and his will is tied to another now.”
Thor watched the illusion in bafflement as Loki took the mortal woman’s face in his hands and kissed her with deep, unbridled affection. His passion was returned by the woman, who pressed herself against him with an eagerness that made even Thor blush and turn away, embarrassed to spy on such an intimate moment. Odin seemed to share this sentiment as he pointed Gungnir to the illusion again and sent it fading into the mist.
“Your brother has found more than humility in his time on Midgard. When he is ready, I have faith he shall come to Asgard once more.”
“But how can he if he does not know the Bifrost will open to him?” Thor argued weakly, though he knew by now what folly it was to argue with the Allfather. The last time he tried, it landed them in this mess in the first place, and he was doing his best to hold his tongue now despite his growing frustration.
Odin laughed uncharacteristically at Thor’s concern. “My boy, Loki has not been limited to the Bifrost for traveling the nine realms for many a century. How else do you think he managed to sneak in a band of Jotuns under Heimdall’s nose? Let alone under mine?”
Thor’s expression darkened at this reminder of his botched coronation, causing Frigga to take his hand and whisper in her ever-genteel way, “No, Thor, do not let the hurts of the past cloud your hope for the future. Loki made a mistake, just as you did when you went against your father’s command that very same day. All has come to light, and all must be forgiven if we are to mend what has broken.” Frigga looked to Odin at this last comment, a silent communication passing between them just as it always was with his parents.
Thor struggled against his frustration—at Loki, at Odin, at himself—until finally, he could not restrain himself any longer. “Had I known he was whole again when I was still King of Asgard, he would already be home!” Before either Frigga or Odin could respond, Thor stormed from the room, heading toward the sparring ring to work off his rage in a less self-destructive manner.
Odin sighed, wrapping an arm around his wife as they watched Thor make his dramatic exit, thunder rumbling in his wake. “Perhaps I sent the wrong son to Midgard,” he grumbled to Frigga. But she sensed the humor in his tone and smiled.
“Perhaps, Minn Kærr , but then where would Loki be?”
“Home, I imagine,” Odin sighed, “God of Mischief or not, Loki was always the more well-behaved of our children. Had he not learned the truth of his parentage, it may have always been so.”
Frigga snorted in disagreement, “He betrayed Asgard to that band of Jotuns long before he knew the truth. No, my King, both of your sons have hard lessons in the days ahead. We must pray that the Norns will guide them on the safest path to learning them. Now tell me, husband, what do you know of this intriguing woman who has so bewitched our youngest?”
Odin couldn’t help but smile as he thought of the joy this unconventional mortal brought his somber younger son. “Honestly, there is not much I can tell you. My visions of Loki are weaker when she is involved—it’s like there is some force around her that blocks her from my sight. Heimdall seems to have experienced it as well—he cannot see Loki at all when she is with him. But from the glimpses I have seen, I can say with confidence that he loves her more dearly than I have ever seen him love. She may be the very thing that will bring him back to us one day.”
“Hmm, it would seem our Loki has met his match among the mortals, then.”
“Well, not everyone can find their other half while locked behind palace walls. I had to venture to Vanaheim just to find one who could stand to be with me for more than an hour.”
“Well, it’s a good thing you did. Only the Norns know where Asgard would be if you hadn’t.” Frigga teased her husband playfully in return, placing her hand on his cheek and running a thumb lightly over his metallic eye patch.
Odin said nothing more to that, choosing instead to drink in the sight of his beloved wife standing before him. Selfishly, he would remain in the Odinsleep much longer and relieve himself of the burden ruling had thrust on him for so very long, but Frigga was the reason he refused to fade. She was all his light, all his strength, all that tethered him to this realm when he heard Valhalla’s call. And when he looked into the pale blue pools of her eyes, he knew there was no sight more beautiful in all the nine realms.