#unofferable

“Send for the healers,” she commanded them, slightly out of breath. “And tell them that their services are urgently needed.”

“My Queen,” one guard began, looking between her and the body. “Have you been injured?”

Her tone never wavered beyond that of a regal, just queen. “It is not me who needs help, it is this child. Go, now!”

One guard did as informed while the other two began to accompany her into the Asgardian Palace. Their offers to carry the child, a small girl, were rejected several times. The halls of the castle echoed with the sound of urgent footfalls on the marble floors, some of the guards and maids curiously looking at the reserved commotion as it passed them by. Hushed words were exchanged at the sight of an unconscious mortal in the palace.

This was how I first ended up in Asgard; a defenceless child on the brink of death, carried in the arms of a loving queen. Nifty, huh?

As Frigga made her way towards to Healers’ Wing that was already being prepped for the arrival of some mysterious child in need, word from Heimdall that the Queen had brought a mortal into Asgard quickly found its way to King Odin in his throne room. Frigga knew that he was informed when she arrived at her destination to find the entrance guarded by two of the King’s personal guards.

“I am sorry, my Queen,” one of them said robotically. “But the Allfather has ordered for us to bring you to the throne room, along with the Midgardian. 

“This child needs help,” she replied, holding on to whatever patience she had left. “I am your queen and you will stand aside.”

Neither of them flinched. “They are the King’s orders that you be brought before him.”

“Take me if you so insist, but the girl needs to be seen to.”

“Not until you have spoken with the King.”

Finally, Frigga’s patience snapped. “She will die if not tended to.”

Neither of them spoke a word, instead giving her blank stares from beneath their helms. Seeing that there was no way she would be able to get them to let her through, she allowed them to escort her to the throne room where her husband waited for her arrival.

The walk was a rushed one, mostly because of Frigga’s insistence. As the minutes ticked by, she grew more and more concerned for the small being lying limp in her arms, breathing shallow and shaky. She peered down at her occasionally, the girl’s face hidden as it was nestled into her dress. Although the soldiers were brimming with curiosity, none of them dared to question why their queen had come back from Midgard with one of the inhabitants, an injured one, at that.

The huge doors to the even larger throne room were pushed open, revealing the mostly vacant Valaskjalf. A lone figure resided at the end of the room, sitting proudly upon the golden throne. Odin remained seated with his spear, Gungnir, in hand as his wife was led forward, clutching the little girl’s body tighter to her chest. Her dresses trailed along the stainless floors, her own journey to the steps reflected back up at her. Upon arrival at the lower steps, the guards bowed before stepping aside, leaving Frigga to stand before her husband.

Odin silently regarded her for a moment before he spoke in a booming voice. “My wife, you are aware of the rules and restrictions that are upheld in relation to outsiders being brought through the Bifröst, are you not?”

What kept Frigga calm was that his tone was not condescending or negative, but that of a King who has to do what was expected of him.

“I am aware, Odin,” she replied, remaining polite but ignoring all formalities due to the urgency of the situation. “As you know I am, but such an urgent situation required immediate action to be taken. She would have died if left on Midgard and she will still die here if we do not help her.”

Odin leaned forward in his throne, his steely gaze landing on the girl in his wife’s arms. “And why would you insist on bringing a lowly Midgardian back with you to Asgard? What significance is she to you?”

“None, my King,” Frigga replied, both her gaze and stance confident. “But I would not leave behind a defenceless child to perish alone when she could be saved.”

A look of recognition flashed over Odin’s features for a fraction of a second before it just as quickly disappeared. That split second of silent interaction spoke more words than any of those around them could comprehend.

Odin didn’t get a chance to respond, as the sound of the doors bursting open interrupted the conversation. Both the King and Queen’s attention was drawn to the end of the hall as Thor and Loki made their way towards them, the latter walking slightly behind the former.

“Mother!” Thor called her in delight. “We had heard of your return!”

“My sons,” Frigga greeted them, somewhat despondently as they got closer.

Confusion covered the two brothers’ faces as they spotted the limp form in their mother’s arms.

Loki’s brows furrowed at the sight of blood on her dress. “Mother, are you alright? Have you been hurt?”

She shook her head, soothing his worries somewhat. “I am well, Loki. It is not my blood.”

“What have you brought with you?” Thor asked inquisitively once he had confirmed that she was unhurt and peered at the child. “Is it a slave? Or a runaway? Is it alive?”

“She may not be for much longer if she doesn’t get the help she needs.” Frigga turned her attention back to Odin, who had been silently observing the exchange. “Please, Odin.”

“Tell me what happened,” he answered and remained seated. “Tell me where you found her.”

There was a brief pause before Frigga began her tale, detailing how during her trip to Midgard, she had taken to walking around the cities in the early hours of the morning when they were mostly deserted, disguised as a mortal woman. She enjoyed the peace and quiet, but the tranquility of the city was disrupted when she spotted something unusual behind a dumpster in a filthy alleyway. What had compelled the queen to investigate what she saw in that alleyway she wasn’t sure, but her feet had brought her closer to have a look before she could contemplate why. It was there that she discovered the frail and broken body of the Midgardian girl, shivering uncontrollably in both pain and the cold. Frigga asked the child if she could hear her as she took in the bruises on her face. Glistening eyes met her gaze before her lids shut again, slipping into unconsciousness. Already involved in this child’s affairs and unwilling to leave her there to die in the cold, Frigga took it upon herself to save this young life, even if it meant questioning her own King. After her owl healing abilities were not enough, she had no choice but to bring her back to Asgard.

Thor and Loki listening intently, looking between the girl and their mother in amazement.

“And were the medical facilities on earth not suitable for this case?” Odin asked in exasperation. “That is what doctors are for, after all.”

“Coming here with the child was far quicker than finding a hospital and Asgardian healers are the finest in all of the Nine Realms.”

“A Midgardian…” Loki murmured to himself, amazed by the little mortal before him. Having always had an interest Midgard and its people (not to mention all of the realms), he was somewhat pleased with his mother’s rash actions. He had little to no time for mortals, considering they were beneath the Aesir, but he couldn’t help but be fascinated by their simple ways.

“And those healers are reserved for Asgardians alone. She is mortal, therefore she does not belong here. Guards, take her back to Midgard immediately.”

At their king’s command, two guards quickly approached Frigga with the intention of fulfilling his orders, but she held the girl tightly to her chest.

“Odin, I speak to you as both your wife and a mother. If you send this girl back to Midgard, then she will die before anyone can help her. While here, there are healers capable of saving her now. If you send her back, you will have the blood of an innocent child on your hands. Mortal or not, she is but a child.”

There was a long pause as Odin contemplated her words. Their sons remained silent and glanced between the two, wanting to add their own opinions, but knowing it was better to keep their mouths shut. Frigga stared at him, her eyes overwhelmingly intense and intimidating. She was pleading silently and for a moment, it appeared as though her efforts fell upon deaf ears.

This was how Frigga saved my life.

   “You may take the child to be healed,” Odin announced calmly, his expression unreadable. “Once she is well again, she will be returned to Midgard.”

The tense atmosphere in the room instantly melted away. Loki’s eyes grew wide – he hadn’t been expecting such an act of kindness from his father. While he could be a just king when needed, mortals were strictly forbidden in Asgard.

While Thor offered to help Frigga carry the girl, Loki hung back and observed instead. He preferred not to get too involved in the whole situation, while it seemed that his mother already was; she calmly refused Thor’s assistance and carried the child to the healing wing herself. Upon arrival, she was placed on a table and surrounded by Eir and the finest healers Asgard could offer while Loki watched from the corner of the room. Thor approached him whereas Frigga remained by the girl.

“What do you make of this, little brother?” Thor asked, his arms folded across his chest.

Loki merely shrugged. “It would seem that mother has somehow managed to briefly change father’s stubborn opinion on mortals in our realm. I must admit, her argument was impressive.”

“She is only one little mortal.”

“Indeed. I am not overly fond of children, no matter the race.”

“What harm could she possibly do?“

"Very little, I would imagine. She can’t be more than six or seven years old.”

“She is still a babe,” Thor laughed. “She is no threat to us. And once she is fully healed, she will be returned to Midgard.”

Loki let out a snort. “I’m sure that Father cannot wait for that day.”

The tall blonde leaned casually against a nearby pillar with a smirk. “Perhaps you will get to interrogate the child all about her insignificant life before she leaves.”

Loki gave his sibling a wry look. “Why in the name of the Norns would I ask this girl of her life on Earth?” What exactly was he insinuating?

“Loki, Loki, Loki,” the God of Thunder chuckled, shaking his head. “You are always stuck in your books, reading everything there is to know about the Nine Realms and its inhabitants. When you should have been out sparring with Sif and I, you read about other worlds and went to seiðr training with mother. Suddenly a Midgardian appears in our very home and you’re telling me that you have no interest in questioning her at all?”

If Loki said that his brother was full of it, it would be a blatant lie. While he found his ignorant comment about reading and seiðr highly irritating, he had to admit (at least, not out loud) that he was a little bit curious about her world. The words never escaped his mouth though. “You are aware that this child is probably going to wake up traumatised, depending on how she ended up in that state?”

Thor’s response was a shrug. “Still, it’s an opportunity I doubt you would willingly let pass by.” They were silent for a moment, watching the scene before them as it played out. “Mother seems to have taken a shine to the little mortal, hasn’t she?”

Loki rolled his green eyes. “You speak of her as though she is a house pet.”

“I only jest! But you cannot deny that mother seems to be attached already.”

Watching Frigga hold the girl’s hand as healers inspected her injuries, the youngest son of Odin replied. “That attachment will fade presently. Soon enough, she will have to leave this place.”

“Perhaps she will keep her,” Thor pondered aloud.

Loki scoffed. “Father would sooner give up the thrown to the Frost Giants than let a mortal remain in his halls. And I would also imagine that her guardians on Midgard are looking for her.”

“Would you not enjoy a Midgardian pet? They are a weak race in comparison to ourselves.”

“That may be so, but you know how Mother feels about slavery. She would never allow it, nor do I desire it.”

Thor shrugged dismissively and pushed himself away from the pillar he had been leaning against. “I suppose so. Alas, I have more important matters to attend to. I’m already late for my sparring match with Lady Sif. Don’t hover over the mortal too long, brother.”

Loki watched his sibling leave and then turned his eyes back to his mother. Frigga remained next to the platform where the girl lay surrounded by working healers. The child’s vital signs all appeared on floating holograms. Certain healers sieved through them, pinpointing problems that showed up on a body chart.

“… head trauma,” he heard one inform another. “… two broken ribs… bruising and laceration…”

“This Midgardian received a harsh beating,” Eir agreed, her voice a little louder so that Loki could hear. “I am surprised she has clung to life this long.”

“She is a fighter, it would seem,” Frigga said, stroking the small hand with her thumb. “Will she survive?”

“Her chances are high now that she is on Asgard. Had she been brought back to her own planet, she would have perished, no doubt. That being said, I’m unsure as to when she will wake up.”

“Then I will remain her for as long as I can,” the Allmother replied, watching the girl attentively.

“You are welcome to stay as long as you desire, Your Grace.”

It was a short while after this when Loki decided to step forward. “Mother? Would you ask that I remain with you?“ He wasn’t sure whether it was concern or curiosity, but he found himself preferring to stay where he was.

Frigga tore her gaze away from the child and settled it on her own offspring with a smile. "It would please me greatly to have you here by my side, my son.”

He made his way over and took a seat next to her. With her free hand, she took his in her grasp, squeezing gently. He returned her smile with a small grin of his own and squeezed back.

“Where has your brother run off to?” Frigga asked after a moment.

“He left to spar with Lady Sif in the training yards,” Loki replied, gauging her reaction.

She laughed gently. “I should have guessed as much.”

They sat in silence as the healers worked attentively. Loki kept his gaze on the child, getting a real look at her for the first time. She had thick mousy hair, falling down to just past her shoulders, which appeared knotted and frayed in the ends. She was slim — worryingly so — and her top and bottoms were covered in dirt and small dapples of blood here and there. She was wearing a dark blue garment that looked like a short tunic with a hood attached while also being a few sizes too big for her. When his eyes found their way to her little freckled face, he was met with an array of cuts and deep bruises. Two lacerations in particular on her upper lip and right brow were sure to leave scars, even with Asgardian healers on hand. Her expression was blank in her slumber despite the gravity of her injuries – beneath all the bruises and dirt, her face still contained the innocence of a young child.

“What could have done this to her?” Loki asked his mother, overwhelmed with confusion rather than sadness. “She is but a child and a mortal. They are utterly defenceless and inept at this stage in their short lives.”

Frigga shook her head slowly. “I do not know, Loki. I cannot understand it myself. Perhaps when she awakens we will get some answers.”

“Perhaps.” Despite not being ridiculously upset for the mortal, he couldn’t help but feel sorry for her when he thought about how harmless she was. What… thing could possibly have the motivation and the malice to strike something as defenceless as she?

He turned to his mother. “You do not know her name?”

“No. Hopefully that is another piece of information she can enlighten us with when she awakens.”

For a moment, Loki pondered what she would be called. Something dull probably, like most other Midgardian names… But her little bruised hands caught his attention and he immediately grimaced. He was the God of Lies and Mischief, the Trickster, the Silvertongue, but such unnecessary violence as this was never in his favour. There were some things that he would never and could never understand. At least the girl had survived her ordeal. He was a Trickster, but not heartless.

“The healers do not know when she will awaken,” he commented. “Do you think she will stay in this state for long?”

The Queen shrugged, a dark look passing over her fair face at the thought. “I can only hope that she will rouse soon, but if time is what she needs to heal, then so be it.”

“She is very… little,” he said absentmindedly.

Frigga nodded her head gently. “So very little and frail indeed. Mortals are so delicate.” She paused briefly to let out a shaky breath. “I fear that she may not survive her ordeal.”

Tearing his gaze away from the girl, Loki looked at his mother. “She is surrounded by the finest healers in all of Asgard, so I imagine that the stakes are already in her favour. Logically, she would have perished in her own realm, but not now. And little does she know, the Allmother sits patiently by her side, guarding her and wishing her a speedy recovery.”

Their gazes met and Frigga smiled at him. Not a grin or a smirk, but a genuine, happy smile. He couldn’t lie; seeing her pleased with him made him feel utterly elated.

“My son,” she murmured. “You are kinder than you give yourself credit for.”

Despite enjoying her affections, he let out a snort and spoke with a voice laced in sarcasm. “Kind? I am the Trickster God, I am not known for my kindness, nor my love of children.”

“What others think of you is irrelevant to me. I am your mother and I know that you have a kind heart, Loki, you just seldom show it.”

He bowed his head gently, feeling a warm sensation in his chest. Something that Frigga could always make him feel — acceptance, joy, a connection with someone else. He couldn’t possibly count all the times that Thor and his friends rebuked and teased him for his choice of combat and seiðr practice when he was but a child. It was the warm embrace of his mother’s arms that had made him feel like he somewhat belonged. When Odin favoured Thor for his brute strength in combat, Frigga was there to encourage Loki’s illusions and teach him the ways of the ancient art of seiðr. And now having lived for over a thousand years knowing that he was not as valued as his brother and that he was not as kind and gentle as she claimed, he still went to her and she still made him feel loved.

He grinned at her. “Well, I know better than to argue with a strong-willed woman; it would be impossible to change your mind.”

“Nothing would ever change my mind.”

They descended into a comfortable silence as the healers worked away on the Midgardian, taking special care to look after her in the Allmother’s presence. Loki could feel his mother gently stroking her thumb against the back of his hand. Looking down he noticed that she was doing the same with the girl’s.

“While we do not know her name yet,” Frigga declared some time later. “We must refer to her somehow.”

This somewhat piqued his interest. “Did you have anything in mind?”

Peering at her lithe form on the table, healers probing gently at cuts and bruises, Frigga said. “Nothing of yet, but maybe I will be struck with inspiration before she wakes.”

Loki remained seated beside Frigga until the healers had done all they could and explained their progress in short but helpful detail. He stayed by her side when she squeezed the girl’s little hand in her own and assured her that she would not wake up alone in a foreign world. That she would be there to help her.