Chapter Text
Thor thinks that it's his moping around the palace that finally makes Frigga cave and tell him how he can travel back to Midgard without the use of the Bifrost. He won't ever admit it, though, since he's the God of Thunder and gods don't mope around their palaces. It's just not done.
When she does tell him how it's done (slipping from space to space, wriggling into areas that are slick and tight and more suited to someone like his not-brother) he waits for a moment where he won't be missed from the långhus or from Asgard in general.
(After all, he rationalizes, he's not king yet so who's going to miss him? The Warriors Three are still telling tales about their journey to Midgard and that's kept everyone else more than interested. So, if Thor vanishes for a few days, more than likely everyone will still think that he's pining over Lady Jane - he's not! - and has gone to have a sulk in his rooms.)
Before he leaves for Midgard, he goes to see his mother in her spinning rooms so she knows where he's gone, in an effort to stave off her worry and appear as responsible as he would like to think he is. Before he has a chance to knock the doors open and allow him entrance; Frigga sits by the window where the light is best while she spins for whatever project she is undertaking. Thor waits for her to finish her section before speaking; he learned as a child that to interrupt his mother would throw off the balance of the project and would make her unhappy with him. The wheel comes to a stop and Frigga smiles at him, though not the smile that she would freely give before the incident on Jotunheim. This smile is soft and sad and Thor wants nothing more than to make his mother smile as she did before. He wants before; before Jotunheim, before Midgard, before Loki left or vanished or died.
"You're going now?" she asks as he sits beside her on the bench; she all soft, golden, and delicate while he is nothing but hard lines and bulk.
"Better now than never, I feel; if Heimdall had seen him, he would have told us. But Heimdall has not seen him, which means that he cannot be - Loki cannot be gone from us. He cannot."
Frigga smiles that sad smile at him again, and it breaks his heart. His mother was not made to endure hardships as the ones he and his not-brother had put upon her. She takes his hand into hers and presses a soft kiss to it, like a good-luck charm or a wish for his safety. "I trust your heart in these things, Thor, but remember: Loki was more skilled in the ways of concealment than we know. If he does not wish to be found, you shall not find him, though I hope that you will bring him home. Asgard is not the same. None of us are the same, though many say that it was better to see the back of him. He is still my son."
Thor nods and doesn't know what to say. He was never good with words; that was Loki's area of expertise. When Thor would come up with a plan to steal desserts from the kitchen, Loki would come up with the excuse to give to Frigga or Odin. Loki was the one that could woo any maiden with his words (not that he put it to good use, in Thor's mind); Loki was the one that could convince Heimdall that it was a good idea to let Thor and Loki explore any of the other realms without constant supervision.
(Though, in hindsight, it may have been since that Heimdall saw everything anyway, he only let them go to make them think that Loki was convincing enough to get away with what they got away with.)
After a few moments of silence, Frigga sighs and pats his hand. "The Allfather will be back soon. If you are going to travel to Midgard, now would be the perfect time. You remember everything that I told you?"
"Yes, mother. I have gone over it in my sleep. I have confidence that I will be able to make it to Midgard. If the worst should happen, though," - and here, Thor can't help when his voice wavers - "I have left a letter to father."
Frigga stands and for a moment, Thor doesn't know what she's doing until she brackets his face in her hands and presses a kiss to his forehead. "All blessings upon you then, my son. I feel that you will succeed."
Without a backwards glance, she lets go of his face and goes into the next room and shuts the door behind her. Thor sits in the silence, looking out the window into the afternoon sun. Most missions are better started off in the secrecy of night, he thinks, but on this afternoon most - if not all - of the warriors are submerged in their food and drink. Perhaps, though, leaving in the bright of day would keep his mother's blessing upon him; it feels as though he's going to need it.
After minutes alone, Thor stands and makes his way out of his mother's rooms. He should be making his way to the dining hall at this hour, so he can't take the ordinary path. Instead, he takes the hidden passageway that Loki discovered (of course) when they were still in their teens that leads out into the forest. His goal is a thinning of the boundaries between Asgard and Midgard that, if you concentrate, you can pass through. Thor had done it a few times with Frigga at his side, but doing it alone was a different matter.
As he walks, taking care to hide in the shadows, Thor goes over the steps of the magic in his head. Find the rift in the middle of the forest close to the spring. Once found, make sure that it feels right for travelling through. To feel right, it must feel slick and tight all at the same time. Thor compares it to that time he forwent ordering new armor after a growth spurt and was trapped for a day before he went to his not-brother (who laughed at him for at least ten minutes) in order to be oiled up and extracted. It was unpleasent, and that is how the rift feels. After making sure that it's a safe rift, you have to picture where it is that you want to land. In this case, Thor wants to land outside Puente Antiguo in hope that his Midgardian friends will be able to help him find Loki. Then - and this is the part that Thor hates with a passion - you have to throw yourself into the rift in every sense of the word. And hope that you land on your feet.
The first time that Thor went through the rift with Frigga, they landed somewhere in the far north of Midgard (or far south; Thor had no idea) and, in addition to almost falling off the snow-covered mountain that they ended up on, Thor landed face first. In front of his mother. Needless to say, he thought it only had to get better from there.
It didn't.
The second time, while Frigga landed nicely and properly on the bank of a river, Thor landed in the stinking marsh tributary. The red pollen that covered the surface of the lake not only took ages to wash off his clothing, but left a foul stench something like rotting meat.
The third time, though he made a better landing, ended with a split lip and bruised ego after he tripped over his own feet.
Thor does not like this mode of transportation.
The journey to the center of the forest takes the rest of the afternoon, and the sun is just kissing the horizon when he arrives to the rift. Thor sits on the tree stump across from the rift to get some of his strength back. Rifling around in his pack for a moment, he finds the packet of dried beef he packed for this exact purpose and consumes it, watching the rift as he does so. It's visible but not at the same time. It's just a slight glitter in the gloom that, if he wasn't looking for it, he would never see it. As he doesn't have the magic that Loki does, he can't really feel it either. Frigga tells him that it feels like a gap in your perception that makes it able to be found, but you must look very hard for it. If Thor squints, he imagines that he can see the glitter of the universe beyond it but he doesn't know if that's his imagination or if it's reality.
By the time he feels more rested, the sun is sunk halfway beyond the horizon. There's no time like the present. Thor stands before the rift, taking deep breaths. It's nothing like the Bifrost. Where the Bifrost is like a Midgardian highway where you can see where you're going, the rifts go directly from one realm to the other without a gap. It's like being pushed into a pool of ice water with no warning; frightening and brutal.
After one last deep breath and picturing Puente Antiguo clearly in his mind, Thor throws himself into the rift.
Thankfully, he lands on his feet. Without opening his eyes, he inventories himself: Mjölnir at his side, pack on his back, armor complete. He has all of his appendages down to every finger and toe, and his hair is still attached to his head. It's hot and dry, which feels right, and when Thor cracks his eyes open it looks right. It's nearly dark here as well, which is also good.
When he turns around, a brilliant sight greets him: the outskirts of Puente Antiguo and, in the distance, the round building that houses his Midgardian friends.