remote corner of the world that he should have been a part of.
Feeling lighter, he takes her hand, feeling a jolt run through him.
"Will this not be tantamount to a declaration of war on your part? After all, you will be harboring the unwanted heir. I could be seen as an upstart."

Arrogance. He has often worn it like a second skin, but not here. Not now. He lets it slither to the ground along with his false identity. The Loki He presents to all others would sneer at the offered hand and the mere idea of riding with her.
Here though, he is accepted, at least in this-

it that.

"I want to know who I am."

Loki releases his own façade from the hold of the magic he has honed over time.

"I was brought into this world by Fárbauti and Laufey, and just as cruelly left to leave it by them. Odin..."
He shrugs...
"Odin, for whatever reason took me to Asgard to raise me as his own."

If one could call it-

and yet very wanted one.

"The parents who share my blood abandoned me, and the father who took me in loathes me. I would be a motherless child were it not for the fathomless heart of one."

He senses they will attack or arrest him if he does not "get on with it", so he sighs.

Closing his eyes, -

This particular riddle is his entire existence, and for once, not his choice.

"I tell you, I don't know who I am. Not truly."

Only Frigga would hear the ragged honesty in his voice and her heart would ache. She has spent centuries trying to be, quite literally, the All Mother to this unwanted,-

for all I belong...nowhere."
Holding his hands out, palms up, weaponless, he continues.
"I'll tell you who I am, but even I am unclear about it."

Trickster god, speaking in riddles, even to and about himself.

a longing to know where he comes from, where he belongs.

Tilting his head, he lets his gaze sweep over the stunning giantess before him, and finds his breath catching. How...unnerving.

"Stanger."
A glint shines in his eyes as that cunning grin curves his lips.
"That very well could be my name-

Loki is nothing else if not an odd disturbance here. Unwanted, unloved, virtually unknown, he is nothing to this place, and it is nothing to him.

And yet, it is in his blood, running like ice through his veins.
In spite of the love Frigga has lavished upon him, there is a jagged hole within him,-