Not Just Another God ✓

Bonus Chapter :)

She had thought it was over. The words hurled like javelins, the sharp knives of insults and hurtful truths, the never ending arguments.

All these years, all this time, and still Odin was as stubborn as ever.

Every day she had urged him to change his ideals, that gods had to adapt to the rapidly fluctuating ways of men.

That gods were expected to change with them, or become outdated, forgotten to this modern way of living.

But still he wouldn't.

When she had attempted to speak to him, as soon as she brought up the subject, his eyes had fogged over, dimmed like a cover over a candle. She knew they had, even if she wasn't with him.

He simply refused to listen.

Refused to even hear the truth about her son. 

Her son.

He had been trembling that day, shivering both from the drowsy rain, and the nerves that were far, far more bone-chilling.

She had seen the hesitation, the frightened look in his eyes as he watched her face carefully, waiting to see if she would snap.

And then in between his clumsy sniffs, he had blurted out something that could shock an entire household, an entire town into the pure silence that came with thousands of people holding their breath.

The words themselves were hardly louder than the faintest whisper of he wind, or the soft occasional drip of a stray raindrop outside.

She should have realised then. That the world was unusually quiet, unusually still, as if there were someone with his ear pressed to the wall, carefully listening to every word that was said.

Her son had whispered, the words wavering uncertain clarity, about something she had long suspected, though hearing it out loud, confirmed, still squeezed her heart in a tight grasp for a moment slightly too long.

Her son, her wonderful, darling son had kissed another boy. And not just any old boy. A human boy. And he had liked it.

She had stroked his jet-black hair, told him how much she loved him, and that whatever he did, that would not change, though her chest gave a hollow pang for him to be more normal.

She was well aware of the whispers that circled the town about him. That he never talked, that he was unusually gifted in magic, that he didn't belong. She had even heard the rumblings of a rumour that stated that her son was demonically possessed.

But he wasn't. He was just him. Loki.

Carefully, with the soft touch only a mother possessed, she wiped away the tears streaming down his usually immaculate face, reassuring him of her love for him.

He had shaken his head sadly. It wasn't over yet.

Slightly braver now, he told her how he had used his new-found shapeshifting powers to shift into... other things, including the body of a young female. And it had felt right.

He admitted that most of the other skins usually had a sort of uncomfortable feeling that came with it, like clothes that were slightly too tight. But not this time. This time, there was no feeling of wrongness, no feeling of being trapped.

With that, the door slammed open, the broad silhouette of someone Frigg knew far too well blocking the sunlight.

"Out," he had whispered, though his voice could be heard for miles. "OUT!"

The volume shook the palace walls, and a small, trembling Loki was forced to wobble his way towards the man.

Amd somehow, Frigg had felt the slow melting of her son's presence leaving Asgard, although she knew that was hardly possible. They weren't even related. They shared no blood, let alone any telepathic or empathetic connections.

She tried to look up, to plead, beg even, for her husband to return him but Odin's stern look was unwatchable.

Never before had she ever seen her husband with such a terrifying look of pure anger stamped on his face, strung with the unmistakable threads of disgust.

She had tried to object, tried to stand up, but with a simple flick of his wrist, invisible hands held her down, leaving her with only the streams of tears rushing down her face.

Calling out, she screamed his name, told him she loved him still, even if others didn't, completely ignoring the fiery look in her husband's eyes.

Whatever he would do to her, she could handle.

But Loki was young, though hardly innocent, he still had a fresh soul, unmarked by the scars only the harsh reality of life could bring.

And she had to be there for him.

She had to make sure nothing happened to her son.

Had to show him that she was on his side, even without being a physical block for him to lean on.

Thor could handle himself.

Odin had always favoured him anyway.

And she had always loved learning, always been fascinated by the astouding works of those tiny, vulnerable humans.

And so, collapsing on the floor, a look of extraordinary determination in her eyes, her brow furrowed and she began to work.

Everything had to be perfect.

The tone of each sentence, each word used well, each letter correctly placed.

It wasn't enough to just do this by trial and error.

If Odin caught her, she would be punished like never before.

She had snorted at that. Had given a small laugh at the show she had to put on, the role she was expected to play as the wife of the head god.

With this, there would be no more acting, no more pretending to be someone she wasn't.

Odin wouldn't dare kill her once this was over. There would be no going back if he did.

Closing her eyes with a deep inhale, she hesitated before going over the words once more in her head.

She had to do this.

Not just to teach Odin a lesson.

Not just to help Loki.

But also for herself.

She had to live just once, without any barriers, and without any magic making life much too easy. She had to live without the strain of her people weighing on her shoulders, without the fear of her husband forever in her mind.

And so, without an inkling of regret, she started the spell. She lacked the sharp precision that Loki possessed, nor the supernatural wisdom that foresaw the betrayal of her favorite son, but still she worked on.

The sun was just setting with the early pinks and oranges etched into the clouds when the last word was said, the last syllable sounded.

And then, freedom.

Raising her eyes to the end of the horizon, Frigg's mouth stretched into the faint beginnings of a smile.

It will be worth it, she promised herself, raising an imaginary glass as if to toast. Here's to the end of an adventure and the start of a brand new one.

"Cheers," she whispered, setting down the Bifrost, with the step of a new women running through her blood.

A/N: it's nearly my birthday, so that gives me motivation to write, I guess?