A child's cry! A innocent calling for shelter and relief. He could do that, he could give mercy to that child. He looked into that unfamiliar room. No, not a child but the most innocent of beings, a newborn baby. His heart swelled with hope and happiness and relief.
He sheathed away the weapons of war and picked up the baby. Cries turned to burble, tears to smiles, the face of a foe to kin.
Such a gift, from whatever God had answered his heartsick prayers, and he gave thanks.
Odin started. The shattered Bifrost glimmered in the distance.
'No, Loki,' echoed in his memory. He lowered his head. He prayed again to that God he did not know, that the gifts given him that night not perish. He prayed that he could again ease suffering, and his child turn from war.