evandar

Title: What She Deserved
Author: Evandar (yamievandar / hikarievandar)
Fandom: Thor
Rating: T
Genre: Gen
Pairing: Implied past!Odin/Laufey
Warnings: Evil!Frigga
Disclaimer: I do not own Thor and I am making no profit from this story.
Summary: Nothing lasts forever, not even her triumph.
AN: Sequel to 'What She Wanted', because this is now a thing.

Her breath catches when the door opens. She is ready to see her son again, her precious Thor, glorious in his victory. She has missed him so. She rises to her feet and is half-way down the dias when the doors open fully, revealing the figure next to her son.

It is him. The Jotun bastard. The false-prince.

Loki.

She feels her throat close up. She has lived in victory since Loki’s fall and Laufey’s death, and now she feels it drop from her, ripped away when she least expected it. She cannot speak. She cannot breathe. She can only stare at the slim, dark, vile figure that cowers beside her only son. He is gagged and bound and so, so pale, but he is alive.

The surge of hatred is alarming in its intensity. She chokes upon it.

From the corner of her eye she sees Odin move past her. She watches as he embraces them: first Thor, and then Loki. There is some satisfaction when Loki flinches in his father’s grasp, but it is not enough to counter her fury. Odin whispers something in Loki’s ear, but she catches not what it is. All she can hear is her own heart pounding and the roaring of her blood in her veins.

Odin glances back at her. He is smiling, cold and sharp as the ice-blades of the Jotnar. He knew, she realises. He knew all along that Loki was alive; that Thor would return with him. He has let her live in her delusion of victory just for this moment.

She hates him, her husband. If only Loki had slain Laufey after Odin had been assassinated, but then, the runt has always been worthless.

(And he has always, always wished for his father’s love – ignorant that he already had it; refusing to give up. Of course he could not have let Odin die. He was weak.)

Her gaze meets that of the child she twisted; the child whose very existence was a stain on her honour – on Asgard’s honour – and who she had sworn to wipe out. She sees the instant that the truth dawns on him; sees the widening of his eyes before he laughs and laughs, blood and saliva trickling out from under the gag that clamps his jaws. He sounds mad and desperate, but he raises his shackled hands to clutch at his father’s sleeve.

She sees triumph in Odin’s eye.

She has lost. For now.