"How was he?"

"Obstinate," Odin said. "Irreverent,"

Frigga found that she had smiled. She had hoped after their last encounter – only two days past – that his time in confinement had finally worn him down. But after seeing him, even only for the first moments of his audience with Odin, she had not expected it.

Odin glanced at her as they walked. "You expected no more from him?"

"I hoped," she said, "But no. Not after seeing him as he entered. He was more docile the last time we spoke."

She remembered him, bent double over his arm, and how tightly he had gripped her hand.

"I will not," Odin said slowly, "have you visit him again."

Sharply, Frigga raised her head. She looked into his face. "You told him this?"

"He is aware."

It had been a long while since Loki's return home. He had given her little reason to believe any of the hopeful things to which she had clung in those first days – that his heart might be clean of the guilt for the actions he had taken. But, he was alive. And, one day, she was sure, they would find a way out of all of this. Peace had all-but returned to the Realms. Thor was set to return within the month.

A year was a long-enough time to come to terms with the new way of things.

For a long moment, she watched her husband.

She had sent some furniture to Loki's cell, and, she thought, perhaps this evening, or tomorrow, she would send some books. She would not have his mind further damaged by his imprisonment, which he decreed to be a long one. He would need things with which to occupy the time, besides rumination on the past and the changing of the guard.

And, she thought with no little satisfaction, she might choose the books.

Perhaps she would send some other things…trifles…something to divert his mind.

And…a mirror.

Thinking of it, she gave a soft smile. She remembered his preening as a youth and she thought, that, given enough time and so little else upon which to look, seeing the glass, he might – one day – again begin to recognize himself in his reflection.

Then, calmly, she swallowed her thoughts and she nodded her head.

"You have no intention of heeding my words."

She glanced at him, "Did you intend that I should?"

Odin gave a long breath, and she felt his weariness as though it were her own.

"No," he said. "Such will do far more to prove your devotion to him than any words."

Loki had ever been clever with his own tongue, she thought. No wonder he trusted actions above all.

"Better he remember," Odin held his head high, "that he loves you. Even should he hate all others first in order best to recall it."