Author's Note: This is the prequel to "Faithfully Yours, Loki Laufeyson" and "Forever Yours, Thor Odinson". Uses direct quotes from the movie, which I do not own, to explain the troubles that have fraught Loki's life and led him to living in Midgard. If you have not read the letters, you might as well. This contains one-sided slash, some sexual content, angst, and male pregnancy. If you don't like those, don't read this. Okay? Okay. Enjoy. 3 And for those of you who have read the letters and want more, you will get it as soon as this is over. I promise. 3
Epiphany
Prologue
"Please, Father," Loki Odinson begged, still weak from the birth, his arms shaking as he wrapped them around himself, around the now-flat expanse of his abdomen. The place where his daughter had rested inside of him as she grew. "Please don't take her from me. She needs me."
Odin Allfather sat upon his throne, scepter in hand, golden helmet blazing upon his head, expression blank as Loki pleaded with him. Through most of his life, Loki had known his father to be fair even if he could not be kind, but this was madness. His daughter, a tiny girl not even a month old, was held carefully by his mother as she stood at his father's side. Though Odin's face was blank, Frigga's was a mask of despair as she tried to soothe Hel's quiet cries. Of course, she could not. Loki was the only one who could, but by his father's decree, he would never see his daughter again. He was on his knees, his cheeks soaked from hours of weeping, his brother hovering uncertainly at his side. Though it had been his plan to come in strong and demand his daughter be left with him, dizziness and anguish brought him rapidly to his knees. He wanted her, wanted Hel, wanted to hold her and comfort her and care for her, but when he had tried to move toward her, Thor had caught his harm. Had given him a look to tell him to stay away from her lest he be cast out with her. But Loki did not care. All he wanted was her.
"She is not of Asgardian blood. You knew of this when you laid with the Shadow in Nornheim. You knew, Loki, and now this is the product of what you have done," Odin said, his expression never shifting.
Loki sobbed, leaning forward until he was nearly doubled over from the agony of not having his child, of never having her. "But I love her. I can care for her no matter what she becomes."
"You should have thought of that before you did what you did," Odin said simply.
"But she is my daughter," Loki said desperately, bracing one hand on the floor, lifting his face so he could stare into his father's eyes. "She kicked in my womb. She was born of my blood. What does it matter that her father is not Asgardian? Her mother is. Thor is not of simply Asgardian blood, and—"
Calmly, Odin raised his hand. "I am sorry, but I have said all that I will on this subject. She will be returned to her father once Heimdall finds him. She will be taken from this realm, and you will not seek her out. Do you understand me?"
"He understands, Father. I will take him back to his room to rest now," Thor said shortly, hands sliding under Loki's arms, drawing him up to his feet. "He will bother you no more on this subject."
Though Loki did not understand, he allowed Thor to drag him the length of the hall toward his bedroom, his head bowed as he wept. It had been only two weeks since his daughter had been born. Until then, they had been connected far deeper than could be explained. He remembered when she first began to move inside of him, when only he could feel her movements because they were so faint. For hours, he would sit in the garden and talk to her, rest his hand on his abdomen and feel her kick, responding to his words in the only way she could. When it was possible to feel her from the outside, the first person he allowed to feel her kick was Thorn, and he had looked bemused and elated at the feel of his niece. But now, here he was, dragging Loki away from the very child he had been excited about. The bastard. The bastard. How could he do this? How could he drag a mother away from a child when it was so clear they wanted each other? When they needed each other?
"Just kill me before it hurts any more," Loki whispered, feet dragging along the floor.
Thor sighed sadly and scooped him up, carrying him into his room and tucking him beneath the heavy emerald comforter. "I am sorry, Brother. You must know I did not want this. But this is what Father has decreed, and we can do nothing about it. But rest assured I will bring your daughter back to your arms one day. I promise you."
"Empty words." Loki squeezed his eyes shut against another onslaught of tears. How he hated to cry so in front of his stronger, older brother. How he hated to appear so weak when Hel needed him to be strong for her. How he hated himself. "Please stay. I do not want to be alone."
And Thor slipped beneath the silken comforter and embraced his brother, and Loki fell asleep in the grips of the greatest bout of weeping he had dealt with so far.