Loki stared into space and wondered what triggered the murder of Frigga. It was not like any other day where he would sit in his golden chambers, sipping wine from bejewel goblets. He was wedged in a glass prison and just withstood the pain of the news that started to sink into his ears. But his heart rebelled, she cannot be dead, not the woman who clutched that scared dark-haired boy of seven years to her bosom.
Odin may not be his father but Frigga was every bit a mother to Loki as much as she was to Thor, and he was torn and shattered. But he never showed it. She was unbiased and loved him dearly, only person to do so in the whole of Asgard, or so he thought. What was he going to do about it?
Thor would never comprehend his love for Frigga. He would scoff it away as one of his schemes. It won’t always be a scheme, brother. I did love her as a mother and I still do, he thought. He was sentimental about her death and almost admitted to himself that he was having a psychotic break-down. This was not the typical bout of insanity that the Odin House has endured all these years, it was the death of Odin’s wife, Thor’s and Loki’s mother – Frigga. He never even dreamed about this even in the wildest of times or his conniving aspirations, never encircled the death of a woman whom he admittedly been in awe of his entire existence.
“Are you mourning?” A voice boomed through the thickest glass in all of the seven realms.
“What difference does it make, brother? At the end of the day, Frigga was your mother.” Loki drawled lazily.
“Brother, I cannot believe that you would whine about the insignificance of relationships forged by blood. She was and always will be a mother to the both of us!” Thor’s fingers clenched under his black shroud.
“Now what good would a bucket of emotions do to an immortal like me, brother? It would weaken and drag me into a pit of poignant turmoil and nothing more.” He jeered.
Thor stood in front of him, not knowing what to say to him, all the while he has been making numerous excuses to see his little brother, cast into the protection of a glass cell, all because of his chaotic ambitions. How it killed him, to see his brother shatter internally, he knew him all too well.
“Impressive cage, I must tell you. I think it lacks that sound-proof ability that I desire so much right now.” Loki spat and slid on the glass, tumbling to the floor. The nails of his fingers dug into his palm, drawing his precious immortal blood, which dripped intentionally. He closed his eyes and listened to his breathing pattern.
Thor placed a hand on the glass barricade and thought, You are not alone, brother.