A.N. Hey guys! Sorry it's been a while. I'm in Orlando with my family, and I've been flying all over Disney World like a mad woman (by the way, in Epcot, there was no mythology in Norway, so no Loki. What's the point of even having a Norway then?) Anyway, here's an update to hold you guys over while I catch myself up. And sorry for the cliffhanger. I won't leave you guys hanging like that next time. ;)

When I wake up again, bright yellow light filters through my window, casting small shadows across my room. The digital clock simply glows 10:15. Loki's arm lies circled around me as I lay on my side. His breathing is slow and even. He's still asleep.

My lips feel swollen and sore, and my hips hurt when I try to move. I try to turn around to face Loki without waking him, but my body is so covered in bruises that any way I lay there are three or four spots that hurt. My lips tightly press into a line to keep any noise of pain drowned.

It doesn't work.

Of all things, I make the tiniest squeak of pain and Loki wakes up. Of course.

He smiles and kisses my sore lips. "Good morning, my dear."

"Morning," I respond as I snuggle against him, ignoring any touched bruises.

"Are you feeling well?"

"Well," I begin, examining the little dark spots on my body under the covers, "you did a bit of a number on me."

Loki's eyebrows furrow in concern and confusion. "How do you mean?"

I throw the covers off, revealing dozens of purple, green, and black circles. "Oh, Avery…" Loki whispers, hand hovering over the marks cautiously. "I'm so inexorably sorry."

"Don't be sorry. It's okay. I probably enjoyed it last night anyway."

"Are you sure?" he asks in the meekest voice possible and with sad, puppy dog eyes.

"Absolutely." I caress Loki's cheek and kiss him lovingly. "I love you."

Loki puts on the biggest smile possible. "I love you, too, Avery."

We spend an hour or so lying down, wrapped in each other's arms, simply talking about nothing of real importance. That is until Mystic starts mewling pathetically at the door. I sigh. "I guess I better get up and feed Mystic."

"I'll begin breakfast," Loki offers.

We get out of bed, watching each other, really studying our bodies. Loki didn't exactly escape unscathed either. His neck is covered in red circles, and his back is raked with rows of red scratches, but his body looks so good. His eyes scan mine just like mine scan his, resting on curious or pleasing parts for a moment or two longer and continuing down. "I wish I had taken my time last night instead of just ravaging you."

"Oh please, don't complain," I tell him as I pull on a pair of sweats and a shirt. "Last night was amazing."

"I recognize that, but if I had slowed down I would have been able to look at the delicious curve of your body more," he points out while he pulls a shirt over his head.

I come around the bed and fold myself into him. "Well, remember what you wanted to do and next time we'll do it."

He arches an eyebrow slyly and pulls me in even closer. "There will be a next time?"

"Of course, baby," I assure huskily with a teasing smile.

"Baby, huh?"

"You don't like it?"

"No, I do."

"Good. Now, breakfast."

"Yes ma'am."

Twenty minutes later and I come to find out that not only Loki incredibly gorgeous, a perfect gentleman, and good in bed, but he can cook, too. I don't know how he managed to do it so quickly, but he whipped up scrambled eggs, bacon, and French toast in no time flat. If I didn't know he was a god, I'd think I was dreaming.

I eat until I'm carrying eight month food baby twins and can't possibly force down another bite no matter how much I want to.

After breakfast, Loki has to go. He says he has business to take cares of, but he's very vague about what that business is. I don't press it though since he never pressed me about my work. As he reaches for the coat he discarded over the desk chair last night, his eyes glance over my mother and father's picture. Then he double takes. His face morphs to one of bewilderment, his mouth popped open and eyebrows raised ever so slightly. "Avery, who is this?" He points to my mother.

"Mom," I explain bitterly. "Pretty, huh?"

"What was her name?"

"Bella. Why do you ask?"

"She looks like…" he trails off, eyes still transfixed on Mom.

"Like who? Like someone from Asgard?"

Loki nods absentmindedly. "Freya."

My eyebrows fuse together, and I study the picture closer than before, but no matter how hard I look she doesn't seem like a Valkyrie. But then again, Loki doesn't exactly seem like a god, either.

That would explain why Tregul has that name and why he's lived so long. And if she was forced to return to Asgard, that would explain the abandonment, but I still just can't wrap my head around that possibility. "Do… Do you think it's her?"

"How long ago did your parents leave you?"

"About twenty years ago."

"Freya did leave for quite a while around that time. I suppose she could have had a child." He sounds somewhat disappointed, but I'm not sure why.

"Is that even possible? I mean, do the parts fit?"

Loki gives me a "Really?" look. "Avery, what did we do last night? Oh, my Yggdrasil," he says to himself, suddenly talking as if he's just realizing what he did, his hand holding his head, "what did we do last night…?"

It hits me. Hard. I feel sick to my stomach. "We… And you… With her…"

"I know! I know!"

"Ugh!" I gag out clenching my chest. "I can't believe I slept with someone who slept with my mom!"

"Just be silent! I'm not exactly enthralled with the thought either!"

I collapse on the couch, elbows on knees and head in hands. "I'm so grossed out right now."

"Oh, thanks!"

"Shut up, you know that's not what I meant!"

Loki stops the pacing he had taken up, his back to me, and lifts his head up slowly with a sigh. "I should have known."

"Now what do we do?"

Loki faces me, his expression unsure, but then he relaxes. "Nothing. What can we do?" He's calmed down substantially, and he takes a seat next to me, his arm looped around me shoulders. "I care about you, and you care about me, correct?"

"Of course."

"Then what does it matter? What happened between Freya and I occurred decades before you were even thought of."

I try to ignore the new question of just how much older Loki is than me and instead pick the relevant question. "Did you two love each other…?"

Loki hesitates and bites the bottom corner of his lip. "Not… Really. Things work differently in Asgard than they do in Midgard. Love is more of an action than a feeling."

"How do you mean?"

Again, Loki hesitates. "Let me put it this way, and please don't think I'm being rude, but you come by your sexuality quite honestly. Your mother is the goddess of love. Everyone in Asgard at one point or another has wanted Freya, and she's very… Giving."

"So my mom's a whore."

"No. I told you things are different in Asgard. She honestly loves practically everyone, and having multiple lovers is acceptable, although I don't really approve of how many she has."

I smile teasingly and mutter," Jealous?" with a nudge.

"Hypocritical is a better word."

"Oh really?" I ask, cocking an eyebrow in the process. "And how many lovers have you had?"

"Anyway, my point is that we shouldn't worry about it. It's all in the past. The question is, will we let it affect the present?"

A small, thoughtful smile appears on my lips, and I shake my head softly. "Never."

Loki's thin lips spread into a grin, and he takes my hand and pulls it close to his chest. "Good. You've done something me in these past few days that no one has been able to do in hundreds and hundreds of years. I've never cared for someone as much as I do about you now." He pulls me in closer, his other hand now around my waist. "When the time approaches, I want you to come to your true home, back to Asgard, where a demi-goddess belongs. With your people, with your mother, with me."

I bite my lip mischievously. "No more lovers?"

Loki smirks. "No more lovers. You and I, together, my princess, my one and only, my love."

I can literally feel my heart swell with happiness. "That sounds so amazingly, wonderfully, spectacularly perfect."

"I take that as you'll return with me?"

"At your word, I will be ready."

Loki pecks my lips delicately. "That's my princess." He kisses me again, and his love is so sweet that I dare not pull away first. He doesn't seem to want to break apart, either. In fact, it's a solid two minutes before he slowly – maybe even reluctantly – pulls back. He closes his eyes and sighs through his nose, and when he opens them again, he seems as if he's in pain. "I have to go, darling."

"I know. Hurry back."

"I'll be counting the minutes until I have you back in my arms. I love you."

I lean in and kiss him once more. "I love you, too."

"Farewell, darling."

"Goodbye, baby."