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

Chapter Sixteen

Author''s Note: Hello again! The viewership has picked up the past few days, and to followers of this story, new and old, I send you my greatest thanks. I appreciate the love and support of all of you. Now, this chapter isn't extremely long, but it is something to make up for a long delay in posting and what may be another delay in posting for the next week or so. I'm in tech week of Les Mis right now, so things are a bit hectic. I will make sure to keep writing, and I will edit and post as soon as I get the chance. Thank you again, and please make sure to vote and comment!

______________________________________________

______________________________________________

“Hello, skatten min,” my mother nearly purrs.

“Don’t skatten min me, mother,” I sniff and turn away towards Loki and Thor who are bearing the same facial expression.

“Perhaps my brother and I should depart, Lady Val,” Thor suggests with a shrug and he and Loki attempt to shuffle towards the door.

I slam the door shut and glare at them. “You are going nowhere, boys. Whatever my mother has to say, she can say it in front of my friends.”

Loki arches an eyebrow, “I am not your friend.”

“Loki…” Thor grumbles. I turn my attention back towards my mother.

“Well?” I cross my arms over my chest.

She looks absolutely choleric and it begins to weaken my steely and utterly pissed resolve. I haven’t gone so long without speaking to her in quite some time. Why was I mad at her in the first place…?

“I thought we should have a chat about your heritage…particularly the, ahem, Jotun side,” she eyes Loki wearily and for some reason this rubs me the wrong way.

Oh. That’s why I was mad.

“You know, there are better ways and better times to talk about this kind of stuff. For instance, not now, not with you—”

“Why must you always make me out to be the villain? I am your mother and I love you dearly. I only have your good intentions at heart, Valkyrie,” my mother coos and smoothes my hair.

I frown, looking down at the floor, feeling the sting of tears in the corners of my eyes. I push her off of me, but only because I am ashamed of the way I have been acting. Irrational, moody and ineffectually weary. “I know, and…I’m sorry.”

“This is repulsive.”

My mother whips around, “It would do you well to hold your tongue, you insolent little boy. Prince or not, you do not have the right to disrespect a woman of Asgard, nor her daughter.” She pulls away from me and draws close to Loki, forcing him towards the corner. Deep in his eyes I see a flicker of genuine fear. She leans close and whispers something to him. His lips press into a firm line as she continues her soundless stream of words and then he closes his eyes slowly and nods once to affirm he heard the message. I wait expectantly, hoping she will tell Thor and me what she has said, but she says nothing.

“Thor,” she smiles warmly and places a hand on his arm. “Thor, I expect you to take care of my daughter, no matter what.”

“Of course, my Lady Astrild.”

She lays a warm kiss against my cool forehead and then she leaves the three of us standing in silence in Loki’s chambers. It’s still strange to me to hear her called by her proper name. Granted, the name she adopted in her time on Earth, Astrid, is not all that different. But I grew up believing my mother was Astrid, and my father was Grey, not Gymir. Gymir. Astrild. My parents—the Asgardian woman and the Frost Giant. I may just never get used to it.