Mischievous: Loki's Lost Legacy

Frigga [8]

Loki paced his chambers restlessly, his thoughts still in disarray from the morning's events. His mind churned with questions, doubts, and anger. The room around him was dim, lit only by the soft glow of candlelight, which flickered in time with the erratic sparks of magic that still crackled around his hands. His thoughts remained fixed on Svan and the absurdity of it all. Less than an hour had passed since he watched his brother and nephew leave the training field, and Loki returned to his bedroom.

'How could they be so blind?' he thought again, his frustration mounting. The sound of footsteps approaching his door pulled him from his spiralling thoughts. He knew those footsteps well, soft, steady, and purposeful. His mother, Frigga.

Loki composed himself quickly, pulling the wild threads of magic back under control, though his mood was far from calm. The door creaked open, and there she stood, bathed in the faint light of the hall behind her, her expression warm yet troubled.

"Mother," Loki greeted her, his voice even though a hint of tension remained. "Come to see how I'm adjusting to this... 'development'?"

Frigga stepped into the room, closing the door behind her quietly. Her eyes, as always, were gentle, filled with love and concern. Loki could see that she was worried, not just for Svan but also for him.

"You've been troubled, Loki," she said softly, moving closer to him. "I wanted to see you, to talk."

Loki turned away from her, pretending to be busy adjusting one of the many artefacts on his desk. "Troubled?" he repeated, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. "Is it not enough to question the legitimacy of a child that appears out of nowhere, claiming to be 'mine'? Wouldn't you be troubled if someone tried to convince you of something so utterly impossible?"

Frigga's eyes softened further, and she moved to his side, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "Loki," she said quietly, "I understand your disbelief. It's not an easy thing to accept. But the boy... Svan... he—"

Loki sharply pulled away, cutting her off. "No, Mother," he said, his voice suddenly cold. "This doesn't make sense. I can't have a son. I would know if I had a child, wouldn't I? This is a trick, a cruel joke, designed to unsettle me. Whoever sent him here wants to drive a wedge between us. And you, Thor, and Father are all falling for it."

"Loki," Frigga said softly, "I don't believe this is a trick. The boy... he's so much like you. I see it every time I look at him. His eyes, his mannerisms... he is 'yours'."

"Is that what this is about?" Loki snapped, pacing again. "He looks like me, so he must be my son? You think I should accept this because you see some resemblance?"

Frigga remained calm, watching him with the patient eyes of a mother who had seen her child in many moods, many storms. "I see more than resemblance, Loki. I feel it. He carries your spirit, your cleverness. You can't deny there's something in him that mirrors you."

Loki halted, the weight of her words pressing down on him. He clenched his fists at his sides, his heart pounding with frustration. "It's not enough," he muttered, his voice tight. "It's not 'proof'. He could be a ploy to enter the royal castle, know us from the inside."

Frigga took a step closer, her voice gentle but firm. "I know this is hard for you, my son. But you need to open your heart if only a little. Svan is here now. He needs you."

Loki scoffed, though the edge in his voice had softened. "Needs me? What could he possibly need from me? If he is truly mine, why was he left out there alone? And why now? Why bring him into my life now, after all, however many years?"

Frigga sighed, lowering herself into one of the chairs by the window, her hands folded in her lap. She looked tired, her usual calm demeanour shadowed by concern. "I don't have all the answers, Loki. None of us do, not yet. But the boy... Svan... carries a great weight on his shoulders, one he shouldn't have to bear alone. He's too young for that."

Loki remained standing, his arms crossed as he stared out the window. His mind raced with the same questions he had been asking himself since Svan's arrival. How could this be real? And why was his family so willing to accept it?

Frigga watched him closely, seeing the turmoil he was trying to hide behind his sharp words and defensive posture. She knew her son better than anyone and could see that there was fear underneath the anger and disbelief. Fear of the unknown, fear of being deceived, and perhaps, fear of something more profound.

"Loki," Frigga began softly, "I know you feel like this doesn't make sense. But I need you to trust me. Trust that I wouldn't ask this of you if I didn't believe it was the truth. The boy needs time... and so do you."

Loki turned to face her, his expression tight with frustration. "You expect me to just... accept this? To let him into our lives as if nothing is amiss?"

"I expect you to listen to your heart," Frigga replied, her eyes searching his. "You have always been more than just mischief, Loki. You have a heart, even if you try to hide it. You can love, care, and protect those who need you. Perhaps, in time, you will see that this boy is not a threat but a chance. A chance for something you never expected."

Loki looked away, his chest tightening with emotions he didn't want to acknowledge. "And what if you're wrong?" he asked quietly, almost to himself. "What if this is all some elaborate ruse?"

Frigga rose from her chair and moved to him again, placing her hand on his cheek in a rare display of affection. "Then we will face it together, as we always have," she whispered. "But for now, Loki, let the boy in. Give him a chance, even if you cannot yet believe, because I believe."

Loki stood still, her hand warm against his cool skin. He wanted to resist, to argue further, but something in her voice, her unwavering trust in him, made him hesitate.

"I... I don't know if I can," Loki finally said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"You can," Frigga assured him softly. "And I will be here to help you every step of the way. You are not alone in this, Loki. Never."

For a moment, Loki allowed himself to lean into her touch, closing his eyes as if the weight of everything could be lifted by her presence alone. But even as he stood there, he knew that his doubts would not vanish so quickly. The truth, whatever it was, still felt distant, elusive.

But for now, in this quiet moment with his mother, Loki allowed himself a rare thing stillness. He didn't have the answers. He wasn't sure if he ever would. But he would confront this in his own way, in his own time.

"Stay, Mother," Loki said softly after a long pause, surprising himself with the request. "Just... for a little while."

Frigga smiled, her hand resting on his shoulder as she nodded. "Of course, my son."

And for the first time in what felt like days, Loki allowed himself to take a deep breath, the storm within him quiet, if only for a moment.

13th spetember 2024
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