Recompense [Fólkvangr End, Book 1] [Loki Fanfiction]

Chapter Eight

Author's Note: Read, comment and vote! I don't have much else to say! I hope you guys are liking it thus far!

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I am sitting in Frigga’s sitting room waiting for the queen herself to grace me with her presence. Sorry, that sounds cynical. I’m not exactly a royalist or anything, but I do not have a reason to dislike her. She seems…nice. But that’s it. I twirl the spoon to my tea in between my fingers before the precious gold thing slips free and clatters to the delicate china. Crap.

I’m not too focused on it. My mind is occupied as I am searching for a way to prove something to Loki, to try and make a bond…a…a connection—something! But I sort of got off track with the sassing and the unsettling gaze of Loki Laufeyson. What will it take to get him to crack? There are things I am willing to do…but those things are very limited. I haven’t quite got enough extreme nationalistic devotion towards the planet I never knew existed to sacrifice life and limb for it.

Though, isn’t that exactly why they brought me here? To fight?

“I hope you are enjoying your tea, it is my favourite,” a calm voice says and I look up to see Frigga. I stand from my seat, managing to bang my knee in the process and she smiles at me, gesturing for me to resume my tableside seat by the fireplace. A fire roars though I fail to see the purpose with the clear sky and warm weather just outside. I look down at my barely touched tea.

“I admit I was a little preoccupied…” I smile faintly, figuring I might as well attempt honesty. “It smells lovely.”

She looks amused and she takes the cup from me and switches it with another. She opens a small wooden box, carved ornately with vines and blossoms and she withdraws some sort of dried bud. She places it carefully in the fresh cup and gestures for me to look within. She grasps the heavy teapot carefully and lifts it to pour the steaming water over the dried little flower. In the water, the petals begin to expand and the blossom opens up at the base of the cup as though it has been brought back to life. It begins to turn the water a rich golden hue and the scent is something akin to lavender and vanilla.

“Please,” she says, offering the cup to me. I bring it to my lips and blow carefully over the hot water and then take a delicate sip. It washes over my tongue and warms my throat. I purr with contentment.

“That,” I nod appreciatively, pausing to take another sip, “that is ridiculously good!"

“I am glad you like it,” Frigga says, clasping her hands in her lap. Her posture is straight and poised, but she looks positively at ease. As she gazes towards the windows I attempt to subtly adjust my sunken posture. I suppose I should have listened to my mother in all those years she pestered me about it. Mother knows best, they say. The jury’s still out on that one.

“Thank you,” I finally say and I realize it probably should have been the first thing to pass my lips, but she waves it all away like her kindness is really nothing. Maybe it is simply a formality. Maybe now she’s going to release her hostility and threaten me—like her son Loki is wont to do—and prove me unworthy of Asgard. It seems dreadfully dramatic though and I think this may just be genuine.

Frigga turns her gaze back to me and she sweeps a stray strand of honey-gold hair back behind her ear. Her gown is simple white and gold, but manages to be stunning on her. Earrings that look like golden dew drops fall from her graceful ears and a golden clip shines in her long blonde hair. It is braided back and secured with the clip, crusted with pearls, allowing the rest of her curls to fall past her shoulders. She looks ageless and flawless and she is rocking a clip that probably costs more than my car. Damn.

“Tell me, Valkyrie, how are you finding Asgard?” She asks genuinely, a smile in her eyes. I contemplate how I should answer before I open my mouth, as idiocy has a tendency to come forth when I don’t pause to think. “Be honest with me.”

I nod, “Yeah…it’s wonderful, really. I mean it. It’s beautiful—mind boggling, beyond my wildest dreams kind of beauty. It is definitely not what I am used to, though.”

“I understand,” she dips her chin in an agreeable nod, “Thor claims you are adjusting nicely. Is this true?”

“For the most part. It was uneasy at first…to the point where I was physically sick, but I have settled nicely, I suppose. I hear my parents are coming soon enough, and it will be good to see them again,” I say simply. She arches an eyebrow. Could she literally tell I was lying already?

“You can be truthful with me, my child. I know how difficult it can be to find a confessor in these glistening halls.”

I hesitate, “It’s just…I don’t exactly want to see my mother and father at the current moment.”

“Why would that be?” Frigga questions as she purses her lips.

“We didn’t leave on the best terms. I just found out they have been lying to me for twenty-two years. My entire life has been lived around a huge, gaping lie that they never felt important enough to fill me in on? I mean, come on! Finding out that I am not at all who I thought I was, and that they are not who I thought they were is kind of a big deal!” I exclaim and she watches me, seeming to understand my sudden explosion of passion. I can sense I am talking a lot with my hands again. I’ve been trying to work on it.

“They believed they were protecting you, did they not?” She knows the answer to that question the same as I do, but I shrug and nod regardless. “I understand the desire to protect that your mother has shown. In time you will understand, too.”

We are both silent for a moment as I process, “So, uh, what’s the deal with Loki?”

“I am not sure I follow…?”

“I mean, what’s his story? How did he get to where he is now? I know bits and pieces—why he did some of what he did, the jealousy of Thor and everything…”

She sighs softly, “That is merely a part of Loki’s larger insecurities. My dear son, not my actual son, true enough, but a son nonetheless. He is a troubled boy who grew up too quickly.”

“I’d hardly call a few hundred years quick…” I scoff. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude.”

“No, that is quite all right. Loki has always been intelligent and his mind grew up before he did. He was mischievous and full of pranks—but he was harmless. Loki may be a lot of things, but he is not a murderer of men,” Frigga shakes her head slowly side to side.

I grip the arms of my chair, “My queen, he killed all those people in New York! You cannot deny that.”

“I am not attempting to,” she shifts in her seat, giving her an air of uneasiness. She eyes me warily. I relax my tense posture because I recognize I’m what makes her nervous. Of course I do—I’m a Frost Giant in disguise. “But I do not believe he was acting of his own accord.”

“How do you mean?”

“He was possessed by the idea of power. When he slipped off the Rainbow Bridge and into the abyss we believed him dead. But he was taken and tortured and manipulated and I whole heartedly believe the power of the Tesseract blinded him to his actions,” Frigga says firmly, as though she challenges me to argue otherwise. I don’t wish to think badly of Frigga, as she is now my queen, and I know she means well.

She’s been kind of nice to me—but she must be mad to think Loki was not perfectly aware of what he was doing. If once he was over sane, he’s definitely lost it now. He’s threatened to kill me how many times? And all I’ve done is attempt to help him…okay, maybe I’ve taunted him a bit, but regardless, I would hate to be someone who is his blatant enemy. I may be the bane of his miserable existence, but at least I want him alive.

“My queen…” I hesitate. Let’s not offend the royalty that hold your life and free will in their hands, shall we? “I should be going. I promised I would meet with Thor, so…”

Frigga bows her head slightly, “Send my son my warmest regards.”

I nod and turn to go. I stop at the door, my back to her, and ask quietly, “Which one?”

“I believe you know that answer to that.”