Okay, so I wrote a few chapters of my first fanfic. It basically just helps me cope with my apparent daddy issues, it’s about Loki and his daughter Freya. (Yes ik in mythology they weren’t actually father and daughter but hey look at Hela 🤷🏻♀️) Give it a read and if you think it has potential gimme a like or a comment 💚
Summary: Born merely moments before the death of her mother, Sigyn, Freya is believed to be “born of death” and therefore cursed. Destined to be exiled from Asgard if her powers grow in might, Freya’s father does everything he can to keep his child safe from such a fate- but a life of fear and secrecy is not the life Freya seeks to live.
𝐵𝑂𝑅𝑁 𝑂𝐹 𝐷𝐸𝐴𝑇𝐻
Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light.
Set within the chambers was a mournful silence, the smell of blood and sweat lingered through the thin air of the night. The firelight seemed to have lost a fraction of its glow and warmth but still crackled against the whistling wind that swept through the room to carry away the last breath of the Lady who lay unmoving. Her eyes, once warm and kind, were distant and now a dull blue. The room was still until the bodies within the chamber began to return from their deep mournful prayer in hopes to send her to the halls of Valhalla where she could feast alongside the honored fallen.
“Your majesty…” softly spoke one of the midwives presents, tears glistening her blue eyes as she took a step toward the figure who knelt at the bedside of the now departed.
Queen Frigga, grasping the hand of her beloved, allowed her eyes to flutter open. She ended her prayer, tears falling down the Queen’s cheeks yet she held a fierce expression. “The child?” She said, her voice hesitant and heavy with exhaustion. It seemed hopeless, Frigga was present throughout the entire birth– no healthy cries were heard from the child that the Lady just bore, leaving the Queen to assume the worst for the fate of the child.
The midwife glanced back at the two other women who stood at the back corner of the room.
“The child lives, my Queen.”
Frigga froze for a moment before looking back at the midwife, desperate to see the truth in her eyes. The Queen swiftly stood, the midwife bowing her head and moving aside as the Queen quickly approached the two other ladies who wrapped the child in silk. The two midwives bowed their head in respect, Ama, who held the child, handed the child to the Queen gingerly. Frigga’s maternal instincts flicked on the moment the child was in her arms. Upon contact, the child, small in size, gave a small coo– the first sound the Queen has heard from the child.
“The Lady Sigyn has welcomed a little lass,” Ama said, smiling down at the child that began to squirm. Frigga couldn’t stop staring at the child in tearful awe. The child was small but a healthy pink color, there was a comforting warmth to the touch of the girl, a fair amount of dark whisks of hair already present. The babe reached out, grasping up at the air, Frigga lifted her own hand and allowed the child to grasp her finger. The child’s grip was strong, much to her delight.
“Hello, my little darling…” the Queen whispers down to the child.
“I have never seen a more beautiful babe,” Solveig said, looking down at the child with glee. The Queen grins up at the midwife. Upon merely looking at the child, Frigga and along with the midwives seemed to be entranced by her beauty and consumed with love and warmth.
Rúna, the last midwife, tended to clean up the departed Lady Sigyn. Rúna has known Sigyn well, her kindness and brilliant light were what the midwife had adored the most about the Lady, nor was she alone. Sigyn was adored by many and respected by all, Rúna fought the urge to weep at the sight of her. Sigyn, once beaming with life and joy, now looked like a shell of her former self. Her pale skin still glistened with sweat, the blood smeared down her legs had only now begun to dry against her smooth skin. Vibrant auburn hair was frizzed and clung against her neck and across her face. The Lady Sigyn’s limbs we’re sprawled about the sheets and pelts, her nightgown bloodied and damp along with the sheets.
“My Queen…” Rúna spoke gravely, warning the attention of Frigga, who looked back over her shoulder at the woman. Frigga read her face as if it were a book. The Queen knew that her greatest sorrow had not yet come to pass.
Holding the child closer to herself, Frigga nodded her head, “send for the All-Father, let no one distract you from this task, Rúna.” The Queen said, carefully handing the babe back to Ama. Before Rúna could reach the door of Sigyn’s chambers, Frigga swiftly joined her side, placing a hand on her shoulder. Rúna looked to the Queen tearfully. Frigga gave the midwife a look that only a mother could give to comfort a child. “You have done so well,” Frigga said softly, “this loss is not yours to bare alone, when all is settled, I will speak to you again.” She said, placing her hand on the side of Rúna’s face.
“Thank you, your majesty.” Rúna whispered, leaning into the Queen’s touch.
The two women opened the chamber doors, swiftly exiting. The guards posted at either side of the door glanced curiously at the Queen and Rúna, not speaking upon seeing their expressions.
Rúna parted down the west hall while Frigga took the east. The Queen nearly ran towards her son’s chambers, her hands grasping at her skirts, lifting them as she hurried. Frigga came upon the hall, luckily close to Sigyn’s chambers. Frigga reaches for the doors–
“The Prince has ventured off in celebration with the Warriors Three along with his brother.” Spoke one of the guards, Frigga frowns deeply. She should’ve known Thor would have whisked his brother away at a time like this. “You’ll likely find them among the dining hall, your majesty.” Said the second guard. Frigga wasted no time to hurry towards the hall, praying to all that her son would be there.
Frigga has gained a few concerned stares from guards, handmaidens and servants as she made her way down the halls of the palace. She knew many would assume that it had something to do with the baby. It was rare for an Aesir to die in childbirth.
As the Queen neared the dining hall, the sounds of clashing and laughter could be heard. She recognized the boisterous commotion to be the work of Volstagg and Thor, much to her relief. Rounding into the dining hall, Frigga witnessed Volstagg being thrown across the room by none other than Thor. Volstagg bounced off the table that was littered with food, a jovial laugh from Fandral erupted as the charming warrior joined Thor’s side, patting his friend on the back. Frigga’s eyes searched the scene, soon finding Loki seated beside the Lady Sif and Hogun at one of the tables farthest from the commotion. The three watched the commotion in silent amusement, Sif leaned over and said something to Loki, making him chuckle and take a sip of ale.
Frigga stepped forward, “Loki–”
“IS THAT ALL YEE GOT, YOU PRETTY FAIRY!?” Volstagg roared as he stood, face and beard covered in food, on top of the table.
“You dare speak to your prince like that!?” Thor called, pointing his mighty hammer at his friend. Fandral laughed, unsheathing his blade and gave it a quick impressive flick and swish before lining it in the direction of his fellow warrior. “Perhaps your mother should’ve taught you manners before she taught you how to stuff your face, ol’ boy!” Slyly said the Asgardian warrior, earning laughs from his friends. Volstagg gave a roar of rage before leaping off the table and beginning to charge at the two men. Thor and Fandral soon following forth with the charge, giving their battle cries.
Frigga rolled her eyes and sharply extended her hand out towards the middle ground. A projection of herself flickered to life before the men—their battle cries turned to actual fearful cries upon seeing the Queen. Thor and Fandral immediately halted, Volstagg threw himself back rather dramatically, landing on his back.
A cheery expression lit up Thor’s face, “hello, mother.” But soon faded upon seeing the grave look upon her face. Frigga turned towards where Loki sat, the Prince was already beginning to slowly stand. Their eyes locked, the deep and mournful glimmer to the Queen’s eyes caused Loki’s heart to quicken.
“It’s Sigyn…” she said dolefully. Frigga could see her son’s heart break, he took a step back, his lips parting. Thor and the Warriors Three all looked from Frigga to Loki in shock and dismay. Loki shook his head slightly before taking off past his friends and mother, sprinting towards Sigyn’s chambers, staring after him, Frigga’s image vanished and she soon took off after Loki.
Thor stares down at the floor for a long moment, his hand gripping his hammer till his knuckles were white. A deep rumble of thunder could be heard overhead. His friends looked to him. Sif stepped forward, “we must go with them!” She said, “Sigyn was our family too.” Sif marched out of the hall, the Warriors Three right at her heels.
Thor stood alone, his heart pounding with rage and sadness. Lady Sigyn had always been kind to Thor, even at his most brutish moments, she was just and beautiful and was always pleasant company…now she was gone. All those many times the Lady Sigyn spoke on behalf of Thor and his friends just to get them out of trouble, all those moments she spent to tutor Thor and Volstagg in their studies— everything would only remain as a painful memory of the loss of a dear friend.
Disbelief and fear was all Loki could feel as he ran towards Sigyn. There had never been a doubt in the young prince’s mind that Sigyn could handle any situation, she was a strong and capable woman. This couldn’t be real. There had to be some mistake. Sigyn was fine just hours ago when she felt herself begin her trials, she assured him that the midwives would keep her well. Had the midwives done something? No, Rúna would have died for Sigyn, and his mother would’ve noticed such treachery. Loki’s mind ran at a million miles an hour and only seemed to accelerate as he neared her chambers. Faintly hearing his mother call out his name, Loki payed no mind until he upon the guarded doorway.
‘It’s not true, it’s not true, it’s not true…’ his mind repeated and pleaded. Frigga finally caught up to Loki, joining his side and grasping his hand with her own. The guards opened the door, Loki inched forward until he was in the doorway of her chambers, his eyes found her pale form sprawled about the bed. Loki sucked in a breath. His heart broke within his chest, his fists clenching as the stinging feeling of tears burned his eyes. “No…” he breathed, stumbling back. Frigga places a supportive hand at the base of Loki’s back as he continued to stare after his love. Slowly ushering her son further into the room, the doors shut behind them. Ama and Solveig were nowhere to be seen, most likely in the second half of the quarters, cleaning up the newborn. Frigga thought this best, Loki needed to see that his wife was gone, he needed to come to terms with this new grim reality.
As the Queen led guided her son towards Sigyn’s bedside, she thought it best to allow him to say goodbye alone. Gently lowering her hand from his back, she slowed her steps, allowing him to walk before her, soon stopping her pace altogether, keeping a watchful eye over him. Loki knelt down beside Sigyn, grasping her small hand into his own. His eyes watched for any sign of life but found only the fading warmth of her skin. When he tried to breathe in her familiar scent, he found only a trace of it, the rest was nearly overpowered by the smell of blood. Loki closed his eyes, tears escaping and rushing down his cheeks. The Prince releases a shaky breath. Sigyn was gone.
“All will be well, my love.” She had said to him, “when you return, there shall be a child for you to teach your mischievous ways to.” A bright a hopeful smile spread across her face. Loki has kissed her before he left. If he had known it would be the last time he got to kiss her, he would’ve never broken that kiss. Sigyn had seen him and loved him despite his vindictive and jealous ways. She was no fool and could easily see past his quiet facade, he admired that about her, along with her wit and sharp tongue. Sigyn wasn’t as brutish as the other Asgardians, she found little joy in killing and found the best adventures in the texts she read. Her warmth and gentle smile was what calmed Loki. Now…here she rests, she died without him there to comfort her through her final moments. He should’ve stayed by her side! Why didn’t he just stay with…
Loki’s heated thoughts ceased upon catching his mother slowly walking towards him from the corner of his eye. Loki looked up to see his mother smiling down at the small bundle in her arms, he froze. The faint sounds of fussing could be heard, signaling that the child was alive. The child…his child was alive…
Frigga looked down to her son, slowly lowering herself onto her knees. Loki turned himself to face the Queen, his eyes following the bundle of silk, soon finding the soft and rosy face of his daughter. All air escaped his lungs, fresh tears began to prick at his eyes. Loki fell back onto his rear, never breaking his eyesight from the baby. Frigga moves closer, beginning to lower the child into Loki’s trembling hold. Frigga adjusted his arms, muttering small tips for him to remember. Upon feeling the weight of his child, her warmth– seeing the essence of raven hair atop her head and her small button nose, Loki fell instantly in love with the creature. Frigga smiles down at the baby girl, glancing over at Loki, who couldn’t stop staring at her in awe, tears streaming down his face. “By the gods…she’s beautiful.” Loki said, glancing over at his mother, who nodded her head in agreement.
“She came into the world without so much as a fuss.” Solveig said, she and Ama stood near the doorway.
“Is that normal?” Loki wondered, immediately looking to his mother.
“These things have occurred before, I take it as a sign that she will be an easy child…” Solveig stayed confidently.
Frigga didn’t appear to believe that “sign” one bit, but she decided to hold her tongue. “What will you call her?” The Queen wondered, resting her chin on her Son’s shoulder, looking down at the babe. Loki smiles as the child grabs ahold of his thumb– she had a strong grip! She lightly coos. “Freya…” Loki spoke, earning a grin from Frigga. As if she already knew the name to be hers, Freya’s eyes began to open for the first time. Immediately finding Loki’s, the Prince fell completely entranced by his child. Frigga places a kiss to the side of Loki’s head.
“All-Father.” Said the midwives in unison, bowing their heads and backing away as the King suddenly appeared in the doorway. Loki felt his heart drop slightly upon looking up at his father. The All-Father glanced down at his Queen and son, along with the child in his arms, soon slowly rising towards the deceased figure in the bed above them. An uneasy silence settled upon the room, Loki held Freya a little closer.
“Leave us.” Odin spoke to the midwives, who swiftly made their exit, the guards closing the doors behind them. Frigga gave Loki a comforting squeeze of his arm before she stood, stepping between the All-Father and Loki. “You know the omens probably better than I, Frigga.” He said, reading the fiery look within the Queen’s eyes.
“She is not what you think she is, Odin. She is good, I have felt it–”
“You feel what all mothers feel for children– compassion.”
Frigga gave Odin a wide eyed and pleading look, Loki carefully stood. Joining his mother’s side, Loki looked down at Freya, his heart filling with love yet again. “The omens are wrong, father, she is born of goodness– born of Sigyn’s goodness–”
“SHE IS BORN OF DEATH!” Odin boomed, startling both Frigga and Loki, “it is an omen of ruin and death to come at the hands of this child. I have seen it.”
Loki places Freya into the arms of his mother before taking a bold stride forward. “What would you have me do? Feed her to the wolves of the forest? Drop her off the side of the Bifrost? Leave her to the mercy of the creatures that dwell on Svartalfheim!?”
“You speak to your father and king in such a manner?”
“You cannot take her from me. She’s my child— your grandchild!” Loki hissed, his father’s face remained emotionless, causing Loki’s shoulders to drop, “please, father, she’s all that I have left.”
Odin stayed silent for a long moment, his eye glancing down at his grandchild to see her fussing and blindly reaching up for Frigga. The Queen quietly hushed the child, smiling down. He began to ponder on the facts; Sigyn came from a direct line of the eldest form of magic, Loki had his own abilities he had not yet unlocked. Odin knew their union would breed chaos, but perhaps this chaos could be tamed. A potential weapon was always useful. “She will be exiled to Alfheim when the time comes and her powers become too great.” Odin stated, “until that day, she will remain on Asgard, she will not learn our ways of magic. If she attempts, she will be punished.”
Loki stares at his father with a deep fire, gritting his teeth and clenching his fists. Even Frigga gave her husband a look of resentment, but the All-Father spoke no more of it. Odin turned away from the scene, leaving the chambers. Sif and the Warriors Three stood outside, their eyes watching the All-Father storm away. Odin knew well that the young Freya would eventually give into her magic. She was the daughter of the god of mischief after all. Wherever she would go, chaos would follow. Odin had seen the end of Asgard upon her birth, he saw her face against the ruin and bloodshed. Thunder clashed as storm clouds surrounded the palace, further darkening the night