A/N: I couldn't help it...
A lone figure walked the empty streets of Arendelle. There was no light, save for the faint glow of lamps through the windows. The woman pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders as the icy breeze intensified. The child within her stirred, and she bit back a cry. She knew that she had time before she really needed someone's help, but she didn't want to be alone. She knocked on the palace gate, pounding harder than most would consider polite. The elderly porter lifted the latch, holding up a lantern to see who might possibly be out at such an ungodly hour. There didn't appear to be anyone there.
"Who goes there?" he demanded quietly.
"Please, help me." A raspy whisper replied. The porter opened the gate a little wider.
When he saw the young woman slumped against the stone wall, he could hardly turn her away. She looked absolutely pathetic, raven hair plastered against her face, frozen to her pale cheeks with the driven snow and tears. The porter clucked his tongue in pity.
"Oh my. Come with me dear." He knelt next to her, and went to help her stand up, but she gave a start and tried to back away. "I'm not going to hurt you. You need not fear me. I'm here to help." The woman appeared to consider her options and allowed him to gently lift her in his arms. He brought her into the kitchens first, and allowed her to sit before the fire.
"Gerda, the cook, will take care of you, miss. I must inform the King and Queen of your presence." He paused waiting to see if she would react. Her wide green eyes held a certain amount of fear, but she nodded once.
"Very well." She said, her voice sounding a little stronger than before. Gerda bustled about the kitchen getting a bowl of soup for the guest. The young woman watched her like a hawk, almost as if she was afraid this was all some sort of illusion. Inwardly the cook shook her head, wondering what could've led to this woman to wind up on the streets.
"Where am I?" she finally asked. Gerda set out the simple meal on the table.
"Arendelle, dearie. Now, eat up. Wouldn't do to starve you or the little one." Gerda watched her guest eat, taking in every detail of the girl's appearance. She was tall, and if it weren't for her pregnancy, she would be slender and graceful. She was truly a beauty, with her waist-length black hair and eyes that looked like emerald sparks. "Where are you from?" The girl paused before setting the spoon back in her bowl.
"You probably would never believe me if I told you, ma'am."
"Try me, dearie."
"No. It's better you don't know."
"Very well."
"Can I at least know your name?" Gerda prodded. The girl stared at the bowl in front of her.
"You can call me Eirin."
"But that's not your real name, is it?"
"That is none of your concern." The girl replied sharply. "I'm sorry, that was rude of me. But please, you must understand, if you knew my name you would be in danger."
"I'm sorry for prying, dear." Eirin smiled up at her.
"That's all right." Gerda tidied up the kitchen a little more before making up a make-shift bed near the fireplace.
"You'll sleep here for the night. Tomorrow after you are introduced to the king and queen, we'll find you a better place to stay. I hope you don't mind." Eirin took in the sight of the rough bed and smiled.
"I've slept in worse places. Thank you for your kindness."
"You're welcome, dearie. Sleep well." Gerda bowed slightly and left. Eirin pushed the bowl back on the table and stared at the fire, absently massaging her stomach. The baby seemed to be at rest for the moment, for which she was grateful. But the cold was still there. The young mother shivered and crept closer to the fire, and lay down on the pile of blankets. Finally, she fell asleep to the sound of the wind howling at the windows.
The looks on Thor's face when he found him…if only there was a way to show him how ridiculous he'd looked. Loki (or Eirin, as he preferred to call himself in this form) stood before him, almost 8 months along. The fact that the oaf had even recognized him was astonishing. Of course, they were brothers and there was always something that gave his disguises away. The cadence of his walk, a pattern of speech, even hand gestures seemed to give him away every time.
"What have you done, Loki?" Eirin's face twisted into the familiar smirk that Thor was used to seeing on an entirely different person.
"I believe the question is 'who'… "
"Loki…" Thor looked happy to see him…erm…her, but grieved at the same time. "Mother and Father have been worried…"
"I bet they have. How inconvenient it must be, with Odin asking about me." Loki knew that Frigga was probably beside herself, fearing the worst had happened to her youngest son. But Odin? Odin didn't care. Odin would never care.
"I need to bring you back to Asgard." Eirin drew a sharp breath.
"I'm not going back. I can't."
"But they will be able to help you there. The child…"
"No, Thor. I'm not going to allow this child to be taken from me as well."
"Father wouldn't do that."
"What of Fenrir? Jormagandr? What of Hela? All three of them cast out of Asgard before they could even speak! I will not subject this child to the same treatment. I'm staying here until this child is born."
"And after that? Who will care for the child? You would abandon it here on Midgard?"
"The child is not an 'it', Thor. It's a girl. My daughter."
"You know what father would call it."
"My child is not an abomination! I will not abandon her, I will ensure that she is taken care of." Eirin spat, her hand coming to rest on the slightly obvious bump. "She will be loved, which is a gift I was never able to give to my other children. This time will be different." Uncomfortable silence reigned as Thor struggled to reconcile himself to the fact that his brother and the woman in front of him were the same person.
"My orders are to bring you back." Thor said finally, deciding to speak as though it were Loki before him.
"Orders can be disobeyed."
"It's not that simple."
"But isn't it? Tell them you never saw me. Tell them you couldn't find me. Tell them anything, but don't tell them about this child. Please."
"Are you not afraid of being alone when the time comes?" Thor asked, remembering when Sleipnir was born. Eirin shook her head.
"I've always been alone. It has only ever made me stronger." She whispered. "Now go. Leave this place, before Heimdall sees." Thor nodded, before stepping forward and pulling the girl into his arms.
"Very well. I'm sorry for any stress I've caused." He murmured. Eirin smiled.
"I've been through worse, you oaf. I'll be all right." Thor chuckled slightly, releasing her from his arms. For a moment he rested his hand over where the child was.
"It will be a long while before we meet again. I would give both you and the child my blessing, if you will take it." Eirin nodded, biting her lip.
"Thank you, brother."
"Farewell."
Eirin sat up in bed. The fire had died down to a bed of coals, and the wind seemed less fierce. She couldn't go back to sleep, though. She was afraid, but she wasn't sure why. Odin did not know who or where she was, and even if he did, she had Thor's protection. What if Thor had been right? What if leaving this child behind was exactly what she had been trying to avoid? She wouldn't be allowed to see her again if she left her here. The baby moved again, the feeling only making her guiltier. Eirin slowly stood up, and paced the kitchen floor. Uneasiness settled over her like a cloak. She could still go back to Asgard. There was still time. But Odin's wrath was not something she felt she could face at the moment. Or Frigga's disappointment. Norns, what would she say, if she could see her son right now? Eirin hung her head, and leaned on the table for support. Tears ran freely down her face.
"I want you to stay with me, but neither can I take you back to Asgard…" she sobbed. "I love you more than anything, child, and I want you to be happy. But you can't be happy if you're in chains. I don't want you to have to know fear, or pain, or sadness. I wish only the best for you. But I cannot give you that." She drew a deep breath. "Please forgive me."
The king glanced up when he heard the door open. The messenger boy bowed before him.
"What news of our guest, lad?"
"She gave birth this morning. A girl, small, but healthy."
"And the mother? How is she?"
"She's gone, sir." The king looked saddened.
"God rest her soul…poor thing." he said quietly. The boy shook his head.
"Not dead, my lord. Vanished."
"Impossible!"
"The servants are searching the town as we speak. So far they have found no sign of her."
"What has become of the child then?" The queen's voice cut through the silence, concern radiating from her eyes.
"Gerda and the women are trying to care for her, but she will not be comforted, Your Grace. The child wants her mother."
"Have them bring her to me. Please." The servant nodded, and left. The king turned to look at his queen.
"What are you thinking, my dear?"
"We have no children of our own, what's the harm of taking in a child whom no one else wants?"
"We know nothing of her family."
"We will be her family. She will be loved here." The king smiled sadly, thinking of the little one they had so recently lost.
"As you wish, my love."
Only a few minutes later, Gerda came into the throne room, followed by the messenger boy. She carried the child in her arms, trying to hush her cries, but nothing would quiet her. The queen stepped forward, and held her arms out.
"It's all right little one." She whispered as she rocked her gently. "I will be your mother now." The baby ceased her squalling, and opened her eyes. "That's it, sweetheart."
"What are you going to name her?" The king asked.
"Elsa. Her name will be Elsa."