Eir was right. I didn't get any sleep at all that night. I tried dozing off once or twice, but it never lasted more than five to ten minutes because I jumped at the slightest of sounds. I'd never been a heavy sleeper, but being back on Asgard for the first time since it's destruction sent me on edge.

At one point, I fell into a deeper sleep for a bit longer, but the nightmares of the city being consumed by fire woke me up again. I could still vividly remember the screams of the stragglers left behind; their lungs filling with smoke as they cried out for help and watched their own skin peel and melt away from the heat of the flames climbing up their bodies. The air had smelled like charred flesh and, in a strangely twisted way, the bonfires that Thor and I would spend time at when we were younger.

Perhaps the memory of the bonfire-like scent was the reason that I found myself on the terrace outside of the healing chambers, afraid to close my eyes against the soft breeze and gradually lightening sky. It reminded me too much of what that terrible golden monstrosity of a kingdom had meant to me. Yes, the relics of the past horrors had been painted over and covered up by lies and deceit and garden parties, but it had been my home.

Part of me wished that it still could've been, as I stood out there on the terrace staring at the sky as it slowly faded from grey to blue.

I took a deep breath, filling my lungs with the crisp morning air to erase poisoned memories of choking on smoke as I raced to escape a damned kingdom. To escape my home. The only place of comfort I'd ever known.

I could sense Odin's presence before I even heard his boots thumping across the marble floors. We were far past the niceties of greeting each other or even acknowledging each other at all, so I continued to peer down at the city below us like a hawk stalking its prey. If I really wanted, and if I put in just enough effort, I could have that kingdom down on its corrupted knees before anyone could even blink.

But I had grown tired after all that had come to pass. My magic was still greatly drained after my short stint as king under the guise of Odin, and I had little desire to do anything but sleep or at least relax since Sakaar had become almost too chaotic for me to handle during my stay there. It was safe to say that I'd had my fill of a planet overflowing with expensive alcohol that tasted like jet fuel and sex-crazed maniacs running rampant around the city like it and all of its occupants were all theirs for the taking.

I had trouble finding shame in admitting that I did indeed miss the simpler times. I'd already been run bone-dry of shame in the past decade, and there wasn't much else left to be exposed. At that point, I was an open book, spread out wide for all to see every flaw and imperfection that were carelessly exposed under the pressure of maintaining a mask.

Odin came to a halt when he was standing right next to me on the balcony.

"My son."

I restrained myself from rolling my eyes at the name. To me, it held no meaning. Not anymore.

"Odin," I responded, coating my words in a thick and damn-near unbreakable ice. Not even the most powerful mage could even come close to deciphering exactly what hidden meaning lied behind such a simple word.

He sighed as if exhausted, and watched me out of the corner of his good eye.

I crossed my arms on the railing and dangled them lazily over the edge, tapping my fingernails lightly against the metal. The small, insignificant sound seemed impossibly loud as it broke through the heavy silence.

"Thor told me to tell you that he left for Midgard with Jane Foster late last night. He assumes that he will be back in a few hours."

"He must've broken it off with Jane. But a few hours? Why does he need that long just to tell her goodbye?"

"That is a question for him to answer, not me."

I stopped tapping and hardened my focus on the cloudless blue abyss above our heads.

"There are a lot of things that you've left unsaid."

"That, I cannot deny." He confessed.

"Why come here and interrupt my peace and quiet? I was looking forward to spending the morning at least mostly alone."

I expected him to turn around and leave me to my thoughts, but he had planted himself there like a tree, and I realized that I would have to try much harder if I wanted to push him away.

"To talk, perhaps, about the unsaid."

This came as quite the shock to me. Odin had never been one to carry on a conversation for more than a few short minutes. He preferred to keep things simple, having been too busy with his various other duties to linger on uncomfortable topics better left alone.

I tore my eyes off of the sprawling morning landscape and met his gaze.

"And why would you want to do that?"

His lips curled downward slightly at my question. He took his time to piece together a proper answer in his head, and I could see the lines on his forehead creasing in concentration. When he was ready to give me an answer, it was not quite the one I expected.

"Because there is something that I wish to discuss with you that I've put off for a while now."

I raised an eyebrow, wondering if he was talking about Hela. It seemed reasonable for him to open up about her if he was to open up at all. I kept silent and awaited his reveal, as he had always been quite the dramatic king.

"The only other person who knows is Thor, but he kept the secret so as not to sully your image of Frigga."

My breath hitched in my throat at the mention of Mother.

"Oh?"

He nodded.

"There are things about her that you may never know, nor should you, but you deserve to be aware of at least two of them in particular."

Something about the way he spoke was somewhat frightening. I'd never heard him speak in such a quiet and uncertain tone.

"The first one is that she did not approve of your rescue from Jotunheim. I saw her, one night, standing over your crib with a dagger in her hand. When I managed to talk her out of doing anything rash, she told me that she did not want you to grow up like the first child I'd ever raised. Her name was Hela."

I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. None of it made sense.

"Thor was not your firstborn?" I managed to ask, feeling sick to my stomach.

"No, he was not. And he does not know this. I would like to keep it that way. But I did raise a young girl named Hela who grew up to be a vile woman that slaughtered many innocents. She no longer lives, but her memory does to the few that existed during her reign of terror."

The sick feeling got worse as I realized that he was still hiding parts of the truth from me. Odin would never change his ways.

"What was the second thing?"

He sighed.

"Frigga was the one who decided on your punishment after you returned from Midgard. She couldn't bear to see you executed, but she believed you to be too much of a danger to ever roam free again. I often wonder if it was the disappointment that she couldn't raise you any better than I raised Hela that led her to make her decision, but I also knew something else. She used my power to keep you from seeing her because she was afraid of you."

My head spun with the sudden intake of the strange new information. Nothing about it seemed right.

"She was....afraid of me?" I could barely speak. My mouth felt too dry and I tripped over the words with a slow tongue.

"Yes. She was afraid of you, but that didn't make her love you any less. When she did end up visiting you in the form of an illusion, she had talked to me about it beforehand. I told her she should do it if she was looking for closure but stay away if it would cause her too much pain. As you know, she chose to see you. She wanted you back desperately, but she was still afraid."

"I don't understand. You told me that Frigga hated that decision." I whispered.

I didn't realize that I'd been gripping the railing like a lifeline; my knuckles ash-white and paler than my face.

"I wasn't ready to tell you the truth yet. I lied to protect you. Your mother loved you with all of her heart. It was such an unconditional and pure love that I was certain no one else could possibly rival it. No one in the Nine Realms can deny how brave she was, but when it came to her children, she had much to fear. See, she wasn't terrified of your power or strength. She was afraid of what could happen when you let your emotions run unchecked, and she worried to no end that you would be angry at her for not raising you properly."

"I could never be angry at her."

The frown etched into his face disappeared and was replaced by a small grin.

"Oh, I'm well aware of that. But she was never an arrogant woman, and she constantly fretted over living up to the image that the kingdom made her out to be. I only wish we could've had more time with her."

"If only we had more time," I repeated, turning the words over in my mouth and deciding that they didn't leave a terrible aftertaste in their wake.

"There is something else I would like to say." He told me.

"And what would that be?"

"I am old, Loki. I have a few years left at most. Now, it is to my understanding that Thor turned down the throne for his mortal, but since the relationship is over, I suspect he'll want a few years on his own. He needs time to discover himself, and I need time to rest before I leave you both."

I nodded slowly, wondering if the conversation was headed in the direction that I thought it was.

"I'll need someone to look after the kingdom in our leave of absence. Preferably someone with a legitimate birthright to the throne."

I eyed him suspiciously, but the expression on his face told me that his words were genuine.

"You would serve as a temporary king, but a king nonetheless. I'd say that you have about four or five years to rule, and I trust you to maintain Asgard's standards and appearance. It's certainly no easy task but I believe you to be more than capable of completing it. Will you accept my offer?"

I watched the shades of red, orange, and pink deepen as they filled the sky like streaks of paint, paving the way for the sun as it rose on the horizon. The warm light shone on my face and skin, giving it a rosy hue. I closed my eyes and imagined waking up to this sunset every morning for the next few years. Ruling as a legitimate king sounded like a tantalizing offer and a great opportunity to prove my worth to the people.

"Okay." I finally said.

"Okay?"

"Yeah. I'll do it."

He beamed, wrapping an arm around me and pulling me closer to him.

"Thank you, Father."

He looked down at me with eyes brighter than the golden sun.

"You would've made Frigga so proud."

I pulled back slightly, looking into his eye with a question on my lips.

"And you?"

He confirmed my answer before he even spoke. I rested my head on his shoulder and let a delighted smile grace my lips. He pressed a kiss to my forehead and held me close.

"I've never been prouder."