Disclaimer: The characters belong to Marvel. Their elation, their grief, their anger, those all belong to us.


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Never Better

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"What did you eat?" Jane winced, tucking a few loose strands back into the hand that held Darcy's hair as the contents of her stomach violently emptied themselves into a gold, Asgardian toilet.

"You're looking at it," Darcy groaned, wiping a strand of saliva from the corner of her mouth. She shuddered at the unpleasantly hot touch of Jane's hand on her clammy forehead.

"I'm getting you a palace healer," Jane removed her hand, frowning.

Darcy pushed away from the floor defiantly, swaying as she tried to stand. "I'm fine, Jane."

"Are you kidding?"

Darcy began to open her mouth.

"No, don't answer that. I'll be back in a minute."

Sinking back to her knees as another wave of nausea gripped her, Darcy suppressed the urge to ugly cry right into the object before her that was, quite frankly, way too gorgeous for even gods to shit in.

Why she was puking up yesterday's dinner was anyone's guess. Maybe her weak 'mortal' stomach just didn't cut it for the food of the gods which demanded a more lavish environment in which to be digested. Maybe she just went a bit overboard with the mead...

Darcy spat a gob of miscellaneous food particles into the toilet and let out a low whine, reaching for the handle. Another hand beat her to it.

"Courtesy flush."

Wiping her mouth again with a purple pajama sleeve, Darcy turned to find Jane with a deeply concerned looking woman in tow.

"Thanks, I guess," she coughed, everything growing blurry and out of focus.

The lady regarded Darcy sympathetically, and offered her a hand up, "Lets get you taken care of, Miss."


Alfheim was just as green and leafy as Loki remembered it.

And, it seemed, infinitely more irritating.

The delegation he had been sent with to address current trade agreements were told their audience had been postponed several days. When it finally happened, the meeting itself was a complete farce, lasting twice as long as planned and covering half as much as was needed.

Loki would have to make the trip again.

When he returned home, Thor was at the newly rebuilt Bifrost entrance to greet him.

"Welcome home!" Thor greeted his brother, embracing him almost too tightly. He pulled away with a slight grimace, "I regret that I have news regarding Lady Darcy you may find troubling."

Loki's expression faded from one of frustration and sleep deprivation to one of anxious confusion. "What?"

"She has been ill since your departure to Alfheim. The palace healer is with her in-" before Thor could finish his sentence, Loki had untied his horse and started towards Darcy at a breakneck speed.

"Well alright then.." Thor muttered indignantly as he, astride his own horse, turned and followed his brother.


Loki burst through the doors to his bedchamber, Thor at his heels, to be greeted by the healer who gently grasped him by the arm and pulled him away from the bed where Darcy slept quietly.

"What happened?" Loki hissed, "Why has she taken ill?"

The healer offered him a warm smile, replying in a tone he found to be irritatingly upbeat. "This illness is normal for a woman in Lady Darcy's state."

Loki's brow furrowed in confusion as he glanced back towards his wife.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well..." the healer began hesitantly, "Your wife is approximately 3 months pregnant."

He was silent. Thor stood in the doorway, equally floored.

"Lady Darcy is expecting twins," the healer continued, now with a broad smile. "Judging by the recent start of her morning sickness and the almost unnoticeable pregnancy belly, I doubt she would've noticed for a bit had Lady Jane not brought her condition to my attention."

Loki didn't reply, but walked over to Darcy's bedside and knelt next to her, placing large hands on her faint bulge. She felt unusually cold, though he knew the reason for that.

Reaching out with delicate threads of magic, he felt for the little beings inside his wife. They were faint, but Loki could sense them. Tiny bundles of life, gently nestled together, right beneath his fingertips. As if they felt his touch, they responded with little hiccups of energy, sending tingles through their father's hands.

Their father.

Loki Laufeyson, bastard son of a Jötunheim king and adopted son of an Asgardian one, was a father. He had helped create the two beautiful lives inside the love of his long life, and he was their father.

"Brother..." Thor pressed gently, as he joined Loki beside Darcy's bed. "Are you alright?"

Loki, in an unexpected gesture, turned and embraced Thor.

"Never.." he replied, tears falling from his chin as he smiled in joyful abandon, "have I been better."

-fin-