True Nature

The door closes gently with a soft click. For a moment that’s where Loki remains, calm breath bouncing back from the door as he presses his body flush against it. He bows his head to the wood, eyes fluttering shut; his mind actively recreates the image of Tony sat there on the sofa where he left him under his teasing glare. Slowly his hand meanders up, stopping only when his palm covers where that infuriatingly innocent smirk is no doubt still in place behind the door.

It’s a sobering thought that this is in fact the first time since this whole debacle began — since he went into heat and his life was thrown into complete and utter disrepair — that Loki and Tony have separated to spend time apart; he doesn't count a simple trip to the bathroom or to find food to maintain their stamina. The idea that small, seemingly insignificant discoveries like this will become a regular occurrence brings a warm, genuine smile to his thin lips. No fear or dread, just simple joy.

When he reopens his eyes and turns around, he is greeted by his mother’s own knowing smile. He tilts his head, a single eyebrow lifting quizzically as if he couldn't estimate what she was thinking. The amusement is so obvious on her face, Loki can’t help but blush under her watch. So unlike him. Frigga shakes her head — giggling — keeping her personal joke just that, personal and to herself. Holding out her hand, she wiggles her fingers until Loki steps forward and takes a hold.

Hand in hand, they walk along in silence. The silence is comforting, so unlike what surrounded them on their journey from the throne room to the Queen's personal chambers. Any awkwardness has lifted, and they are free to simply enjoy each other’s company.
This is all familiar to Loki: the hold of his mother’s hand, tight around his own; the warmth of the night that is unlike any other realm; the stars bright in the overhead sky, flickering and swirling against their canvas of black. They would often share in these walks when he was a child, still innocent and uncorrupted by the dark; he would enjoy those moments more than anything. For years though, he refused, too old — too bitter — to accept any such gesture from the woman who has always loved him unconditionally, and raised him from birth. What a fool he was then.

They come to a halt when they reach Frigga's (and Loki's) favourite part of the gardens. The flowers are brightest here, maybe due to the earth they're grown in or the pure amount of time and effort Frigga has spent here. Probably both, Loki knows little to nothing about how to grow a garden this beautiful. The colours are vibrant, reds and pinks, oranges and yellows, even some blues settled amongst a bed of green. There is a stone bench sat amongst the brightest of reds covered in dark green ivy; the colours so very reminiscent of Loki and Thor's favoured capes. It's not the most comfortable seat in the palace, but the flowers are exquisite, and look remarkably like the Midgardian rose. Loki is sure Frigga has never actually been to the realm herself, but after one of his many jaunts centuries ago, he brought her back a selection of Midgard's favourite plants. She has taken to growing them herself ever since.

The Queen takes a seat on the bench, patting the space beside her as an invitation for Loki to join. The trickster pauses to think for a moment, and instead of the stone, he opts to sit on the grass. When Frigga realises what Loki is planning, she smiles again, just another thing he would do as a child. As Loki kneels on the ground, Frigga rearranges her skirts, allowing him to scoot backwards to sit cross-legged between her knees.

She places her hands on his shoulders, bowing her head to place a gentle kiss to his temple, “So what was it you wanted to talk to me about, dear?”

“Well…” Loki sits with his hands in his lap, wringing his fingers nervously. He’s never been known for being shy when it comes to his sexual endeavours, but this is different. This is the first intimate relationship that he wants to keep private.

She sighs deeply, feeling incredibly guilty since she can already guess where their talk is headed, "I feel like this conversation would have been more appropriate before you reached Asgard."

"By then it would have been too late anyway," Loki murmurs, bittersweet.

"So you have truly mated?" She questions carefully.

Loki nods rigidly, "In every sense of the word..."

"Is this something you would like to talk about?" Frigga begins to push gently, knowing Loki will only pull away harder if he feels pressured into talking about something he doesn’t really want to discuss.

He takes a deep breath, psyching himself up, "I'm just shocked — still in shock — at how easy it was for me to surrender complete control of my body to Anthony. I've never done that before."

"And how does that make you feel?" She asks, smoothing her fingers over his hair.

"You're beginning to sound like those Midgardian psychiatrists I was forced to speak with." He huffs, still having not forgiven Fury for that demand just yet; it was tortuous and pointless to all involved, especially Loki. He doesn't like having his time wasted. Frigga can sense this is quickly becoming Loki’s escape from an uncomfortable topic, so she tugs the ends of his hair to bring him back to the conversation. "Fine. It just feels right, more right than anything has ever felt. Even before I discovered the truth about," Not really wanting to say it again, he resorts to pointing at his body. Luckily for Loki, his mother understands: before he discovered he was truly an Omega, she nods thoughtfully, and squeezes his shoulders to urge him on, "I knew that I was tied to this infuriating mortal, for better or for worse, he just..."

Again, Loki loses his words, unable to voice his thoughts. Frigga finishes his sentence for him, "Completes you?"

"No, no, that’s not it, I mean—" He pauses before whispering weakly, "Yes."

"I know you’re scared, Loki,” She ignores his scoffing and continues, “But embrace it, embrace him.” She reaches over his shoulders and grasps his hands in her own. He glances up to see the grave look in her eyes, “Do not push him away because you feel scared. Things will change and it will get easier for you to feel, to love."

“It will?”

“I promise.” She squeezes his hands in reassurance. "Now I know I don't have to take this conversation right to the beginning, you're old enough to understand the basics of sex," Loki cringes, and she releases his hands to tug his hair again, chastising, "And you're old enough to have a simple, adult conversation with your mother, how many centuries old are you now, Loki?"

"But—"

She huffs, "No buts, this is an important conversation."

"I really don't think we need to speak of this,” he grimaces, “I am plenty experienced enough..."

"But what of children?"

That makes Loki sit up straighter, feeling as if someone had doused him in cold water. His heart begins to beat erratically, painfully hard against his ribcage; breathing stuttering as a sweat builds on the back of his neck. For all their combined intelligence and experience, it was pretty stupid for them not to think of such a possibility. Neither he nor Tony took this into regard when they were intimate. They assumed it wasn't actually possible due to it being a false heat fabricated by Doctor Doom, but in fact it is very possible for Loki to now conceive children. He’s an omega, that’s now the whole purpose of his body, to be bred and birth offspring. He throws himself to his feet, hands ringing together nervously, subconsciously placed over his stomach. Realising what he's doing, his hands spring away like he's been burnt. Feeling foolish, he looks to his mother for guidance, receiving a comforting smile in return.

"Mother, can I already be..." he swallows thickly around the words, them feeling awkward and unpleasant on his tongue, "with child?" His voice so broken and lost, Frigga has to fight back the tears, jumping to her feet and dragging him into her arms.

“Oh darling, goodness no, do not panic!” Loki's breath hitches sharply, catching in his throat. “It is near on impossible for an Omega to become pregnant during their first heat. It's unheard of, I’ve never known of such a case. It is a time that awakens the correct parts of the Omega’s body, preparing itself for the next heat, when it is completely possible for a child to be conceived.”

“So next time I could get pregnant?” The horror dawns on Loki, suffocating panic creeping upon him again. Struggling, he sits down on the bench, head falling into his hands. “I can’t get pregnant, mother, I’m not ready for that! I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready for that!”

"Do not worry, Loki.” She joins him, her hand circling his back softly, “We may seem primitive to the likes of Midgard with their technology and whatnot, but we have discovered a completely natural way to stop unwanted pregnancies without having to halt all biological processes."

"I suppose that is agreeable." Heat without pregnancy? It could be worse.

"Better than the alternative, there are so many unwanted children due to unplanned contraception. But do not forget I am yet to have a grandchild, my dear." She teases gently.

"Mother!” he whines, “In the first month of this relationship, there has been little time to talk. Children haven't even been discussed!"

"There is time, my son, always time," She offers, trying to comfort him.

There is a thoughtful pause, Loki reflecting upon his future gravely, "But there isn't. Anthony is mortal. Painfully mortal with a penchant for fast living and self-destruction."

"There is a remedy for that—"

Loki interrupts, turning with hopefully bright eyes, "Truly?"

"Yes, but something you will have to discuss with Anthony,” she takes a breath, “and unfortunately Odin also."

Deflating somewhat, he twists back around and slumps, "Maybe I have some time then."

"Yes, my son." She watches him closely: how every few minutes he turns to look over his shoulder back towards the palace; his fingers twitch slightly, his body getting tenser and tenser. She knows what that means. “Darling, would you like to go back now?”

Trying to hide his desperation — have to see Tony — he shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly before rising from his seat. Not wanting to embarrass him by saying anything — she knows this is difficult, she’s never seen him this vulnerable and so dependent on someone that isn’t her — Frigga quietly leads the way. “Let’s hope that he has stayed out of trouble.”

“If he knows what is best for his health, he will have,” he says in jest, and Frigga knows Loki has found the perfect mate and she couldn’t be happier.

Notes

Soooo.... I really have no excuses for my absence on this story. No inspiration teamed with starting university has made it so difficult to write.
I wanted to get something out, hence why it's so short. The next chapter would have been part of this one if I had got my act together...
I'm hoping that someone is still going to want to read this.