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Frigga noticed early on that her second son (her beautiful, fate-given second son) never made a sound. He cried rarely, though he was often fussy, refusing to sleep and red-faced with displeasure, and when he did cry it was silent, mouth open and tears streaming from his eyes but not making a sound.
“Something is the matter,” she told Odin, and he frowned, coming over to bend over and peer at Loki’s face.
“Perhaps it is something of the Jotnar?” He said. “He seems perfectly healthy.”
“Yes,” Frigga said, “but he’s so quiet.”
“He was crying when I found him,” Odin said. “And loudly. It was why I found him at all. You are simply used to Thor."
Frigga sighed, but she couldn’t help a rueful smile. It was a bit of a relief to have such a quiet baby after Thor’s frequent and vociferous use of his lungs. "Perhaps,” she said, but the worry remained.
“Why doesn’t Loki talk?” Thor demanded. Frigga looked up from her spinning wheel and turned to look at her older son, who had a stubborn look on his face so like his father.
“Your brother is still very young,” Frigga said, though in truth her earlier worry had only grown. At his age, Loki should have been babbling and imitating the noises of others at the least. He listened when spoken to, and his wide eyes and expressive features often gave some kind of answer, but he never spoke, not even in the babble of other Aesir children. Thor frowned.
“When will he start talking?” Thor wanted to know.
“When he is ready,” Frigga said, giving Thor a little smile. Thor heaved a sigh but seemed to accept this answer as adequate. Frigga waited until he retreated, and then lowered her head with a sigh.
Perhaps the Jotnar don’t start speaking until later, Odin had said, when she had expressed her worries. We need not worry yet. He is very young still.
Maybe we should ask, Frigga said, watching Loki where he played (silently) with a stuffed horse. Send a message to Jotunheim and inquire…
Inquire at what age Jotun children begin to speak? Odin interrupted. That would raise no questions, I am sure. What if they should demand Loki back, Frigga? What then?
They abandoned him. They have no right, she’d snapped, and crossed the room to snatch Loki up and hold him as though one of the Jotnar might appear then and there. Loki looked startled and squirmed, but he didn’t cry out.
At the age of five, Loki began his first lessons, two years after Thor. Are you certain it is time? Frigga had asked. Loki had still not spoken a single word, not so much as a mama or papa. Maybe we should wait.
Odin shook his head. “Questions will be asked. The nobles will want to know what is wrong with the boy that he has not begun schooling."
Frigga felt her teeth click together. "There is nothing wrong with Loki.”
“He doesn’t speak,” Odin said, sounding frustrated, and when Frigga opened his mouth he raised his hands. “I am not saying - but it is not ordinary, is it? Perhaps starting lessons will…urge him into it. He cannot remain silent forever, not when there is nothing truly wrong with him.”
(They had checked. They had asked Eir to examine his throat and lungs, telling Loki they were checking for illness. There is nothing physically wrong with him, she’d said, sounding puzzled. He should be able to speak, or make sounds at the very least, if there is something wrong with his mind. Frigga had felt a twinge of defensiveness at that word again, wrong. Loki was just…quiet.)
“Maybe,” Frigga said, but she had her doubts. Nonetheless, she allowed it to happen.
The lessons lasted one day. Frigga was summoned midway through, and arrived to find Loki huddled in a chair and weeping silently, Thor on his feet with his hands balled into fits. The tutor was red-faced with frustration.
“What is going on here?” Frigga demanded.
“The boy will not answer simple questions,” the tutor said. Thor drew himself up.
“You yelled at him!” he said, nearly yelling himself. “I told you Loki doesn’t like to talk."
"Your Highness,” the tutor said, and Frigga held up a hand, her eyes on Loki with his face pressed into his knees, hiding behind Thor.
“Go,” she said, infusing her voice with all her authority. The man went, hurriedly, and Frigga walked over to her boys and knelt down beside them. Thor still looked furious, one of his hands resting protectively on Loki’s back, rubbing up and down.
“It’s okay, brother,” he said. “He is gone. You do not need to be upset.”
Frigga kissed Thor’s hair and reached over to touch Loki’s soft, dark hair. He lifted his eyes, just barely, then raised his head and looked at her. He opened his mouth and looked like he was trying, struggling. For a moment she held her breath, but then his mouth closed and his face crumpled again.
“Oh, love,” Frigga said, and pulled him into her arms. She drew Thor in, too, holding both of them and breathing in their soft child smell. “I am sorry. I know…I am sorry. For now…I will teach you both.”
She found Odin that evening and told him what had happened. His face went tight and angry, and then tired. “What are you saying,” he said.
“This isn’t something that is going to go away,” Frigga said softly. “We need to face that."
"There is still time,” Odin said. “Maybe he will get better.”
“Or maybe we need to stop thinking about this as something that’s wrong with our son,” Frigga said. “Maybe it just…is. And if that’s so, then…”
(She might never hear her son say that he loved her, a selfish part of her thought, and Frigga wished she could slap herself. She didn’t need to hear his voice to have him say it.)
Odin closed his eyes and bowed his head. “Then we need to find a way to help him be as he is. Yes."
Frigga looked at him for a long moment. "Do you think we made a mistake?” She asked in a small voice, some part of her afraid that the answer might be yes.
“No,” Odin said ferociously. “Never."