Above All Shadows [Loki Timetravel fic - Completed]

Part I - 2. Frigga

PART I

A toneless howl assaulted his ears.

Up, down. Future, past. All melted away. He tumbled wildly, unable to make sense of the bright lights flashing past him.

'Loki?'

The howling had ceased. As someone placed their hands on his shoulder and gently rolled him onto his back, the flashes gave way to a single blinding light suspended high above him. Was this it? Or was this only some temporary reprieve? He didn't recount falling or landing, yet his back was now pressed against something smooth and solid.

Groaning, Loki pushed himself off the ground and propped himself up on his elbows.

Frigga knelt beside him, sunlight turning her hair golden and catching her eyes just at the right angle to make them shine. What little compose Loki still possessed fled him. He scrambled away from her and backed into the balcony railing.

'What's happened?' Frigga said. 'Loki?'

Her voice was as soft and kind as he remembered it. Her face, presently dark with worry, was also a perfect reconstruction of his memory. After she had died, he had spent hours upon hours lost in the old memories.

Then Frigga moved a step towards him and Loki realised he wasn't exactly right. She looked younger than she had been in her last days  — his mother didn't yet possess the lines his madness would etch upon her face.

Is this a trick? Or did I really come back years too far?

Loki climbed to his feet and leant against the railing as he palpated his right shoulder. It ached. He must have pulled something when he landed, but it didn't feel like a serious injury. 'I'm fine, mother. I was experimenting with a new spell last night and it didn't go as planned. An unfortunate after-effect, nothing more.'

'Really? You fainted and slid out of your seat halfway through breakfast. Besides, you were with us at the feast last night.'

Loki glanced to the large oval table that stood in the middle of the balcony. It was laden with food — breads, jams, cold meats, fresh fruit and a variety of cheeses — all barely touched. One of the chairs had been flipped over. It was the one Loki usually occupied when he shared breakfast with his mother out on the balcony of her quarters. Loki turned to look back over the balcony railing and felt a lump solidify in his throat. His mother's garden was in full bloom.

This was too much. It had been a bitter journey, but in the end he had reconciled with her death and with the knowledge that all vestiges of her life, save Loki himself, had perished either in Ragnarok or by Thanos' hand.

Yet here she is.

Seeing that no response was forthcoming from Loki, Frigga tried again. 'You truly do look unwell. Don't tell me you were awake all night with your books, and before a day like today.'

Of all the things he had missed about Asgard, being chided as if he were a child again had not been one of them. Loki had a number of snide comments at the ready, but as he peered at his mother's concerned expression, he couldn't bring himself to utter any of them.

'You're right,' he said. 'It was ill-advised. I was tired, likely that was why I erred with the spell.'

'Do you want to go over it together?' Perhaps tomorrow or the day after.'

Loki smiled. He and his mother had spent so many days in the privy of her personal library, working through arcane texts or experimenting with magic of their own making. Although he usually despised to see his errors exposed, he had never minded sharing his troubles with his mother. Had there actually been a spell that was proving troublesome, he would have told Frigga about it there and then.