What Might Have Been

Chapter I

Frigga did not often travel. In fact, her traveling was an anomaly and travel to Midgard made her actions nigh suspicious. Odin and her sons thought they knew her so well but there are always secrets people keep even from loved ones. No one’s heart is ever truly laid bare and Frigga did not think it a bad thing. People need places and thoughts known only to themselves, a little piece sheltered from any outside influence. Those small pieces act like rocks to which one anchors himself in times of uncertainty. Frigga was not uncertain but she did need some measure of peace. 

A few fingers rubbed her brow in a pensive way, her small frown betraying the nature of her thoughts. 

Odin. Thor.

Loki.

She worried for her family, her youngest son in particular. He was, difficult to deal with many a times and his silver tongue did not always make him allies. That his aptitude was in the magical arts, her arts, made him fodder for jokes and ridicule. People may not laugh at her, the Queen, for these skills—then again who would dare laugh in the face of the Queen?—but Loki was prince in a realm that prided the martial arts for its men. Even his intellect did not win him many favors much to his mother’s sadness. 

She was not blind. Frigga saw the rift forming before her boys, even a small resentment building between Loki and his father Odin. Loki did have Fenrir, a small wolf her created and showed her with such joy and pride. The wolf offered him some solace—animals had a way of reaching hearts that Aesir and other realm inhabitants lacked—but her son needed something more. He wanted something more. 

Midgard had changed. Thor often came here, exploring, seeing, talking with the inhabitants of a realm he grew to cherish. He told of the changes he’d seen in years and Frigga disguised herself so as not to arouse skepticism in the populace. She was somewhere in an area called the United States—very odd name—and where it was summer. The air was filled with a dry heat but a breeze made it pleasant. The inhabitants here walked up and down these pathways in front of her. Like Asgard, they had places to sit and drink and meet acquaintances. She herself was sipping a curious beverage called sweet tea. Frigga understood how Thor could fall in love with such a realm. Loki did not seem to cherish things like his brother. Her smile faded into something more melancholic. 

“Why are you sad?” Frigga turned to her inquirer.  It was a little girl. She gave her a false smile, the kind you offer to strangers.

“I am not sad, little one.”

A childish pout worked her lips. “Liar.” Frigga had to laugh. That was usually a title they reserved for her son. The girl smiled back. 

“Do not let a stranger’s woes afflict you, child.” 

Clearly the word afflict was more complex than the child’s thoughts could decipher so she ignored it. She moved her book—the cover support large letters spelling SCIENCE—to the other hand and fished in her pocket. 

“Here you go.” 

It was a rock. A rock. Diplomatically, Frigga offered her thanks. Picking it up, half fell away, held by an artisan’s small hinge to reveal the insides streaked with color and beauty. Frigga stared.

“I gotcha! You just thought it was rock too, didn’t you? Everyone thinks it’s just an ordinary rock, but,” the child’s voice dropped into a conspiratorial whisper, ”if people just looked inside, they’d see how pretty something is.” More like stunning. The colors swirled in a mixture of green, black, and gold; a bolt of divination struck her. 

“Child, what’s your name?”

“I’m Jane. Nice to meet you.” Yes, Friga thought as she shook the smaller hand, It is very nice to meet you too.