Your warm breath catches deep in your throat as you reach for the doorknob. However, you swiftly retract your hand, fingers quivering ever-so-slightly with nervousness.
You can do this, you tell yourself with determination. But what will he think? you wonder desperately, leaning forward and resting your forehead firmly on the door. The news had caught you completely off-guard this morning, bombarding you with a vast array of unsettling emotions. As the words sank in however, a single sensation overtook every fiber of your being: joy.
If you didn't tell him soon, you just might burst at the seams. And yet at the same time you were terrified that with one disapproving look, Loki would rip that joy away from you.
Get it together, you order yourself. Be strong. Be honest. Just do it.
With a deep, calming breath, you open the door to his bed chambers. Loki is sitting contentedly by the fireplace, with a book in hand. The glow of the dancing flames casts a warmth upon his icy white skin. His eyes immediately flick up from the pages of whatever he's studying.
"My love," Loki greets, with a small but pleased smile. As you enter the room, he sets his book aside and motions for you to come and take a seat on his lap. You oblige, perching yourself comfortably on his leathery knee- your arms winding instinctively around his neck.
"Good evening," Loki says teasingly as he steals a kiss.
"Mmm… hello," you muse dreamily as he strokes your hair with admiration. His familiar touch soothes you.
Distractedly, you reach down to retrieve his helmet -which is perched precariously on the sofa beside him- and pull it onto your head. Loki snickers and helps you get it on, knowing you have a bit of a pet obsession with it.
"It suits you," he compliments playfully. "My ravishing goddess…" Loki strokes your chin with his thumb before pressing his mouth to yours once again.
Granted confidence by the accessory, you pull Loki in closer, grasping at his inky black hair. He laughs lightly, tugging at your bottom lip with his teeth. And then he abruptly pulls away, removing the helmet and tossing it aside.
Loki grins devilishly and proceeds to pin you down on the sofa between his arms. His mischievous eyes study you thoughtfully, drinking in your image. One could get lost in those eyes so easily. Gazing into them was like looking upon the beauty of all nine realms at once. His fingertips tickle your cheek as he brushes a strand of hair out of your face.
Loki leans in and captures your mouth eagerly with his thin lips. You cup his face in your hands welcomingly, but the moment is disrupted by the little voice inside your head. Tell him. Tell him!
Eventually you break the kiss and fidget anxiously beneath his body. Loki senses that something is off.
"What is it my darling? Is something wrong?"
"No," you insist, gently pushing his chest away and sitting upright. His brow furrows in confusion and concern as you avoid his gaze.
"I- I have something to tell you," you finally manage- the weight of his anticipatory silence bearing down on you. You wet your lips and swallow, looking for the right words. But all you can think about is how different things will be between the two of you. He's going to be so upset.
"This was a mistake," you admit quietly, more to yourself than to him. "I should go." And you stand to leave, but Loki grasps your arm and pulls you back sternly.
"Tell me what troubles you," he demands, firm but loving.
You stare intently into Loki's vibrant green eyes, barely able to breathe. There is nothing to be heard but the pounding of your own heart amidst the the crackling and popping of the fire. Slowly, you reach up and remove Loki's hands from your shoulders, never breaking eye contact. You entwine his long, slender fingers with your own as you bring them to your stomach, holding them there. "I am with child," you admit as softly as possible.
His expression hardens and you can see his jaw clench tight as his gaze falls to your abdomen. The silence is all-consuming as he processes what you've said.
"Are you certain?" Loki asks in disbelief, studying you.
You nod, unable to mask the meek but excited smile tugging at the corners of your lips.
Aside from the evident shock, his reaction is impossible to decipher. However there seems to be a gleam of pride in his eye if you are not mistaken.
"I need some air." Loki releases your hands and turns away, sauntering collectedly out onto the terrace.
All at once, your heart sinks. He is displeased.
You stand in place, unable to move. Unable to speak. Unable to do much of anything except fight back tears. The idea of having a boisterous, raven-haired son or daughter thrilled you beyond reason. You could just imagine Loki reading to them and teaching them magic... but it was a fantasy. One which he clearly didn't share.
The sting of a single, hot tear brings you back to reality. You wipe your cheek with your sleeve and look up just in time to catch a glimpse of Loki running a hand over his face uneasily.
You want to disappear. So without further consideration, you decide to leave.
Loki calls your name as you rush out the door, but you don't bother to look back. In fact, you scurry down the palace halls as if it were possible to escape everything behind you.
Not until you reach the garden do you stop running. It's late and there is not a soul to be seen. The cool evening air and starry skies bring you solace as you allow your heart rate to return to normal. That peace however, is short lived when Loki appears before you.
"Please, leave me alone," you beg as tears stream down your face.
Loki ignores you, pulling you into a tight embrace and holding your head protectively against his chest. "My love, that is the one thing I will never do."
His words stun you.
"I'm sorry if I didn't say anything. I just- needed a moment to gather my thoughts."
"And?" you inquire as to the fate of your relationship.
"And," he begins, "I promise to be the father that mine never was." Of course. His reaction suddenly makes total sense. Loki resented his own childhood, making the thought of being a parent all the more difficult for him.
"Loki… I'm sorry," you flounder.
"Never apologize for that which you have no control over," he instructs. And with that, the prince of Asgard nuzzles your neck affectionately, his hands trailing down your shoulders, your waist... until finally settling on your stomach.
"Would you be mine?" he whispers needily in your ear.
"Loki, I already am. We already are."