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Borrowed Time

Chapter 16: A Dream of Home

Summary:

Loki . . . isn't coping.

Notes:

This is the second chapter uploaded today, so if you missed the last one, go back a chapter. Or not. Your choice. :p

Chapter Text

Loki didn’t really sleep anymore. Instead, he drifted around his mother’s gardens at night before sequestering himself away in his chambers or the library by day, places where he didn’t have to interact with anyone. Sometimes, his exhaustion dragged him down enough that he succumbed to sleep for a few hours, before he woke again in terror with the memory of Thanos looming over him, or of the Other’s influence still poisoning his mind. 

Sometimes he was certain he was still dreaming. He was certain this was all some illusion that the Other was forcing on him, trying to trick him into a false sense of peace and security, trying to fool him into giving up the tight grip he had on the last few hold outs in his mind, the secrets that he would rather die than part with. 

When he dared to venture into public, he watched the court skirt around him suspiciously, or stared at his mother and wondered if she was actually real. Could he trust anything he perceived? What if none of it was real? What if he was still in Thanos’s clutches? What if Lady Stark was just a figment of his imagination, a delusion of the saviour he had desperately craved?

He was almost certain it was. Almost, because this wasn’t quite the idealised version of Asgard he had wished for. This wasn’t an Asgard where he had still been able to proudly claim himself a son of Odin, where he wasn’t a monster. This wasn’t an Asgard where his mischief was met with longsuffering and good-natured annoyance. No, these days he was openly feared or disdained. 

No one spoke of Jotunheim, never to him or in his presence, but it was clear that no one had forgotten it. The evidence was too obvious anyway. The bifrost was still undergoing repairs, the rainbow bridge still damaged. The evidence of his madness was clear to see, and yet no one spoke of it. 

Odin seemed to be of the belief that refusing to address it would simply make it go away. This philosophy of ignorance did nothing but make Loki distrust and disdain of him more. He should be imprisoned at the very least, more likely executed if his dealings with Laufey’s war band during Thor’s coronation were known. He had brought enemies into the heart of Asgard. He would deserve his jail sentence. 

But instead, no one spoke of his misdeeds. They tiptoed around him as if he were broken. Then again, he wasn’t certain that he wasn’t. Perhaps they could see it, despite the glamours upon glamours that he covered himself in these days, some to hide his monstrous Jotun form, others to hide his weakness. Although he presented the picture of health to any who might pass him in the corridors, if he peeled away his cloak of magic, the truth was immediately evident. He couldn’t stomach the thought of food most days, couldn’t sleep, didn’t venture outside except under the cover of darkness. 

He hated it here. 

Part of him hoped that this actually was a trick from the Other. He wanted to think that he would be more grateful and more at peace if he ever actually made it back to his much-longed-for home. He wanted to believe that he would be able to look at Thor and call him brother without remembering the fact that they were nothing of the sort. He wanted to believe that he could look at Odin and try to accept some kind of explanation for why his entire life had been built around a lie, instead of outright hating him regardless. He wanted to believe that he could offer his mother forgiveness for her transgressions, for keeping Odin’s secret and never once even hinting that anything was amiss. 

He wanted to believe that, but he also wanted to believe that he was free. He wanted to believe that Lady Stark had swept in and saved him before he could do more damage to another unsuspecting realm. He wanted her to exist, but even that was something that was up for debate. Heimdall couldn’t see her. He’d attempted to scry her himself, but had been met with no success. The place she should occupy in the universe was simply blank. 

Perhaps she truly was just a figment of his imagination. Perhaps they all were, since Thor went along with his delusion as if he had met her himself. Or perhaps he was just humouring his poor, broken, delusional brother. 

“You are adrift, my son.” 

Loki blinked and came back to the present, glancing over to find that his mother had seated herself on the stone bench next to him. They were in her garden, so he could not fault her for her presence, but he had hoped that it was late enough that the rest of the royal family had already turned in for the night. 

He watched her closely in the moonlight, trying to identify some flaw in her appearance that would render her, once and for all, as a figment of his imagination, as a trick employed by the Other. Norns knew that she had always been his closest confidante. If he were about to spill the last of his secrets to anyone, it would certainly be her.

There was nothing, of course. No flaws. The Other was deep within his mind and had access to most of his memories. No, the Other would know Frigga’s appearance probably better than Loki himself. 

“Will you not speak to me?” She asked after a long moment of silence passed between them.

“What would you have me speak of?” He wondered. What secrets would the Other attempt to pry from him today? 

Frigga smiled sadly. “Whatever you would like to speak of. I have heard you have been spending much time in the library. Have you been learning any new spells?” 

“No.” He answered simply, without elaborating. The part of his mind that was convinced this was all a fantasy knew that he would glean no new information from the volumes he studied in the library. He had only dared to read his favourite histories or the spell books he had already mastered, unwilling to let the fantasy end.

If he broke this illusion, where would he be? Back in Thanos’s clutches? Even if it was an illusion, it was painless and he would take that any day over what else might be waiting for him. 

The silence lingered for another few minutes before Frigga sighed softly. “You know, I argued against it, against using a glamour on you, when Odin first brought you to me. We fought bitterly about it and I refused to allow it, often unravelling the glamour whenever Odin turned his back. But Asgard had just fought a war against Jotunheim and the anti-Jotnar rhetoric was high, and when I caught your nursemaid attempting to smother you in your crib, well, I realised that it may be safer for you if you were presented as Aesir. 

“It wasn’t until three centuries later that I found out that you were not just some poor, abandoned child of Jotunheim, but the son of Laufey. I was furious at Odin for the omission of that information. If Laufey ever found out that Odin had been the one to take his son, then we would have war again. The Jotnar would not have stopped until Asgard was in ruins, but by then it was too late. I could not bear the thought of . . . 

“Thor is . . . well, he will always be my firstborn, but he will always look to Odin first for guidance and support. But you, Loki, you were mine and I could not bear the thought of losing you. A mother isn’t supposed to favour one child over the other, but - and don’t tell Thor - you have always been my favourite child, Loki. I could never bear the thought of returning you to Jotunheim, so I became complicit in Odin’s deception.”

Loki stared blankly at the lilac bush in the corner of the garden, its boughs heavy with blossoms. It was painful to look at her now that he was certain that it was a trick from the Other. No one would ever choose him over Thor, not even Frigga. “You are merely saying what I want to hear. It won’t work.” 

“No, Loki.” She said softly, the tone so similar to the way that Odin had said it before he’d let himself fall from the bifrost that he flinched. This was some new torture the Other had cooked up, a way to finally shatter his mind. 

He wanted to run away, but his body felt so heavy. He had not slept or eaten in days and what little peace he had been able to attain was now shattered. What was even the point anymore? 

The silence settled over them thickly as he waited for what would come next. What would the Other demand from him now? What else would be taken? 

“Who is it that you think you’re speaking to?” Frigga finally asked softly. 

He didn’t want to answer. If he answered, then the fantasy would end. If the fantasy ended, he had only pain and suffering to look forward to. And yet, something compelled him to speak, the truth forcing itself past his lips in an ill-advised show of defiance. 

“I know this isn’t real. I know this is some delusion you’ve trapped me in. They would never welcome me back.” He spat out. 

Frigga’s eyes flooded with tears before she reached out to touch him. He flinched back from her, unwilling to let the Other put hands on him again. For as long as he had the choice, he would resist as much as he was still capable. 

“You’re free , Loki. That abomination was ripped out of your mind by the Midgardian queen.” Frigga said fiercely. “You’re home .”

“Stop it!” He snarled at her. “Stop wearing her face! Show yourself!” 

She sat back, spine stiff and jaw clenched as she took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. When she did no more than that, he sneered at her. He was tired. He wanted to rest. He wanted to end it all. He wondered if he threw himself off the bifrost again, if it might take this time, or would this illusion continue until he fell right back into Thanos’s hands?

After a moment of silence, Frigga tentatively held out her hand. “I am your mother, Loki. I know this is hard, I know you’re confused. So check for yourself. Examine my core, where no lies can exist. You know the flavour of my seidr better than anyone.”

Loki stared at her wide-eyed. An invasion like that would be painful. One’s core was the most sacred part of them. It was not meant to be shared and could not adequately contain two souls without causing agony. It was why the Other had such a good grasp on him, because the monster had managed to slither his way into the innermost part of his very being, corrupting everything he touched. 

He faltered for the first time in hours or days. What if this was actually real? What if the Other was still inside of him and he contaminated his mother with his influence? What if -

“Loki, you are free. You are the only one who will gain access to my core.” Frigga said firmly. 

He swallowed tightly around the lump in his throat as he stared at her hand, still held out in offering.   Slowly, he reached out and placed his hand over her own. He waited a moment, tensed for the Other to snatch him away into another nightmare, but it didn’t happen. 

Frigga remained still, patiently waiting for him, so he tentatively reached out with his seidr and found the leylines that would lead him to her core. She hissed and grit her teeth, her fingers curling tightly around his own as she endured the painful invasion, but she didn’t pull her hand away or tell him to stop. He made his way as quickly as he could to the center of her power, slipping past defenses that would have repelled any other invader, but let him through unscathed. 

When he reached it, it was just as he had always imagined. Frigga’s aura was unsurprisingly drenched in gold, with a hint of rose pink as an undertone. It was powerful and ferocious, but he found himself being drawn into its center in welcome. Instead of lashing out at him, the seidr enclosed around him protectively, like a mother drawing her child to her chest. 

He swallowed tightly against the lump in his throat as tears nearly blinded him. He pulled back his seidr as gently as he could, not wanting to cause her any further pain before he pulled his hand out of hers. 

“Why?” He finally sobbed. Why had they taken him back? Why wasn’t he dead or imprisoned? Why would no one rightfully condemn him for his crimes? 

Why couldn’t he be happy in Asgard?

Frigga pulled him into her embrace, hugging him tightly just like she always had whenever Thor and his friends had hurt his feelings as a child. She ran her fingers through his hair and rocked back and forth a little. “Ah, my darling, you have suffered so much. We love you and have missed you terribly.” 

“Only you.” He murmured lowly, but she heard him anyway. 

“No. All of us. Odin didn’t speak for days and Thor was inconsolable after you fell. He blamed himself for not holding onto you tighter.” She answered softly. 

“I let go.” He admit softly. 

Her fingers ran through his hair again. “I know you did, darling.” She sighed. “I should have been there for you. I should have supported you better in your time of need. It was my fault.”

“No. You cannot take the blame for my actions. I was weak. I am weak.” He said bitterly. 

She cupped the side of his face and lifted his face, the evidence of his weakness all over his face in the form of his pathetic tears. “You are strong, Loki. Even now, you still persevere through all adversity.” 

He scoffed at the assessment and bowed his head in shame. If he was strong, Thanos wouldn’t have broken him. If he was strong, the Other wouldn’t have been able to use him as he had. If he was strong, he wouldn’t have needed a savior. 

Thor wouldn’t have needed a savior.

***

Frigga retired to her chambers with her heart heavy in her chest. She had managed to coax Loki back to his chambers and had cast a sleeping spell on him that was rarely used outside of medical emergencies. She felt awful about it, but she had felt how thin he was and had seen how worn down he’d looked when his glamours had unknowingly slipped in his distress. He would sleep without dreams for the next day or so, but it wasn’t a proper solution to the underlying problem. 

To her surprise, her husband was still awake. He was ensconced in an armchair next to the fireplace, a glass of mulled wine in hand as he stared into the flames. “How is he?” Odin asked softly. 

She watched him for a moment, trying to discern his intention, before sighing and sitting in the armchair across from him. “Not well. I have sedated him for now. He hasn’t been eating either. He thought I was an illusion. He couldn’t fathom a reality in which he was accepted home and loved.” 

Odin closed his eye in grief. “I did that to him, didn’t I?” 

She grit her teeth against the rage in her heart. She had been telling Odin that they had to come clean with Loki for centuries, ever since he hit adulthood. Odin had always refused; he had made her promise to keep his confidence, and now look at what had happened. Loki, her mischievous, vivacious, troublemaker of a son, could barely conjure up enough of a damn to carry out a conversation.

“He can’t stay here.” She said instead of answering. She wasn’t about to absolve Odin of his guilt when he couldn’t even work up the nerve to apologise to Loki or admit his wrongdoing. “Asgard is nothing but a reminder of his trauma and his failures.” 

Odin nodded in agreement. “Where shall we send him? Has he any allies left? Would Alfheim take him? Perhaps they could heal his mind.” 

“We are not sending him to Alfheim.” She growled. She wasn’t going to foist her son off for another realm to deal with because she couldn’t stomach his recovery. That wasn’t why she wanted him to leave Asgard.

“Then where?” Odin asked, raising his eyebrow in challenge. 

“He has nothing to focus on, no purpose. We need to give him that.” She explained. A plan had been forming in the back of her mind from the moment she’d sat down next to her son, but it was now fully fledged. “Allow him to lead the treaty talks with the Midgardian queen.” 

Odin scoffed. “What treaty talks? Is Asgard expected to make treaties with pets now? The queen will be long dead before the terms can even be decided on. There’s no point.” 

“So you will disregard a warning from a Seer then?” She asked in surprise. Odin had always coveted foresight more than anything else in the Nine Realms; it was the entire reason for their marriage. 

“She has not been confirmed as a Seer. And Heimdall cannot verify her claim.” Odin shrugged. “Lady Stark could be a charlatan driven by desperation to save her realm.” 

“And you will do nothing about the danger to her realm, even though Midgard falls under Asgard’s protection?” She asked. 

He scowled at her. “Asgard -” 

“Cannot stand alone against the Mad Titan. You have heard the tales of his destruction as well as I have.” She interrupted. 

“And how much benefit would Midgard prove in a fight? They would be a liability.” Odin grumbled. 

She shrugged. “Whether they are a liability or not, Thanos will come for them. And they may not be as poor off as you are thinking. The queen bested Loki in combat.” 

“After what he had been through, it is more of a wonder that he was still able to enter combat than it is that he did not win.” Odin countered. 

She sighed and conceded that point. 

They sat in silence for a few long moments before Odin spoke again. “Do you truly think that it would help him? Would they even tolerate his presence after the attempted invasion?” 

“I do think it would help Loki. And Thor spoke of the queen’s kindness and the favour she had shown him.” She answered. 

“She showed her favour to Thor, perhaps he would be better suited.” Odin mused. 

“Ha. Thor is not a diplomat, husband. Unless you are trying to sabotage the proceedings before they even begin, Thor would not be a suitable choice.” She scoffed.

“He must learn sometime.” Odin argued. 

“He has had opportunities to learn and he has squandered them. In fact, cleaning up Thor’s messes is how Loki became such a distinguished diplomat. Thor has no talent for diplomacy and he isn’t the one in need of the distraction.” She retorted. 

Odin frowned, but his expression had finally gone pensive, so she knew that she had won her case. They sat in silence for a few moments being warmed by the fire, before Odin eventually sighed. “Not yet.” 

“Odin -” 

“He has only just come home.” Odin said quickly, cutting off her protest. “He will need more time to recover if he is to enter into negotiations with this queen. Loki himself has praised her ruthless drive. He will need his wits about him.” 

Frigga pursed her lips but bowed in acquiescence. He wasn’t wrong, but she hadn’t been pushing for him to be sent to Midgard at first light either. “It cannot wait too long. You are not wrong about the mortal’s lifespan.” 

Odin nodded grimly, but he had agreed. Odin would place trust in Loki as an official diplomat of the Crown, and in turn Loki would have something to focus on outside of the creature that had violated his mind. And if they gained a treaty with another powerful Seer, Asgard would be all the safer. Her family would be safer.

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