Frigga laughed softly as she half-tackled the squirming two-year old, pulling him into his bed. “Thor, you must go to sleep.”
“No sleep!” Her young son protested, shaking his head vehemently. “Stay awake! Father come back!”
Frigga felt a brief pang. “Father is away fighting the war,” she said softly, finally managing to get Thor under the covers. “I do not know when he will return.” She smiled, not letting her son see her worry. “So you cannot stay up until he returns. You have stayed up far too late already. It is time to sleep.”
“No sleep!” Thor repeated, though he had stopped squirming, and his eyelids looked heavy. “Not…” A yawn cut him short, though he tried to stifle it.
“Tired?” Frigga laughed again and kissed him on the forehead. “I can see that.” She rose, walking towards the door, but pausing before she left to smile back at Thor. “Sleep well, my son.”
Thor didn’t respond, and Frigga could tell by his closed eyes and partially open mouth that he had already fallen asleep.
As she left her son’s room, the smile faded from her lips as the worry she had effectively kept hidden from him rose to the surface. It was not that she did not have faith in her husband and king – her faith and trust, as well as her love, in him was unwavering – but she worried for him nonetheless. War was always an uncertainty, no matter how powerful the one to fight it was.
Frigga went to the library terrace, letting the cool night breeze wash over her as she looked up at the stars shining in the heavens. She could see the Bifrost from here, and she watched it closely, waiting for any signal of Odin’s return.
She had nearly made up her mind to give up waiting for the night and go to bed herself, when the Bifrost moved.
Her breath catching, she didn’t wait to watch further, turning and running from the library. She nearly ran into one of the palace guards as she neared the rainbow bridge.
“My lady,” he gasped, breathless. “The king has returned!”
“I know,” Frigga said, gathering her composure and smoothing out the wrinkles in her skirts with her sweaty palms. She dipped her head graciously. “Thank you.”
She walked rather than ran the rest of the way towards the bridge, her heart pounding madly in her chest. Not only was she anxious to hear how the war with Jotunheim fared, she had missed him.
As she started onto the bridge, she saw him stride from the Bifrost observatory, his stance proud, yet weary. Her breath caught as she noticed the right side of his face was bandaged, and she threw away the restraints of dignity and ran to him.
They met about halfway across the bridge, and Frigga lifted her hand, lightly touching the coarse bandages. “What happened?” She whispered.
“I was injured in the battle.” Odin’s tone was flat and to the point. “But I will be fine.” The look in his eyes softened as he placed his palm on his wife’s cheek.
Frigga closed her eyes briefly, leaning into his touch, then a soft sound drew her attention to the bundle she only just realized Odin was carrying.
She pulled away some of the cloth, her eyes widening and looking back up sharply to her husband. Surely…?
“It is not mine, if that is what you are thinking,” Odin said, voice dry. He looked down at the infant he held in his arms. “He is Laufey’s.”
“Laufey’s?” Frigga drew in a sharp breath.
“He was abandoned. Left on the altar as a sacrifice.” Odin raised his gaze to meet his wife’s again. “I saved him.”
Frigga looked down at the small child’s face, hardly able to believe he was a Frost Giant’s offspring from his size. The baby opened his eyes, focusing on Frigga before letting out a soft cry, reaching out a fist to her.
The sound went directly to Frigga’s heart, and she held out her arms. “Give him here.”
Odin placed the now squirming bundle in her arms, and the child grabbed on to Frigga’s finger, pulling it to his mouth and sucking on it eagerly. His wide green eyes watched her, and she gently swayed as she held him.
“What is to happen to him?” Frigga asked her husband softly, not looking up. Already the child had seemed to have captured her heart, and she barely dared to hope…
“We will raise him as our own,” Odin replied. “If you will have him.”
“Of course,” Frigga whispered, smiling gently down at the baby. He needed a name…
“Father!”
Odin and Frigga turned to see a very much awake Thor running towards them. Odin knelt down to meet him, and Thor ran into his father’s arms.
Odin looked at Thor. “Should you not be in bed?” Though his voice was stern, Frigga could see the look of pleasure in his eye at being able to see his son again.
Thor ducked his head. “Yes,” he mumbled.
A faint smile tugged at the corner of Odin’s mouth. “I missed you, my son.”
Thor’s face brightened and he wrapped his arms around his father’s neck. “Missed you, too!”
A soft squawk from the bundle now in Frigga’s arms drew Thor’s attention up to her. “What that?” He asked, pointing a finger, his brows furrowing.
Frigga knelt down next to her husband and son, extending her arms so Thor could see. “This,” she said softly. “Is your brother.”
“Brother?” Thor repeated, a look of delight coming over his face. “Brother!”
Frigga gently caressed the baby’s face, then whispered, “Loki. His name is Loki.”
“Loki!” Thor grinned as baby Loki looked up at him, releasing his hold on Frigga’s finger and grasping Thor’s. Thor giggled. “Loki!”
Frigga smiled. “We are your family now, little Loki,” she whispered, kissing him gently on the forehead. “Your family.”

Notes

Disclaimer: Don't own Marvel or any of the characters within.