Veritas
Warnings: Some suggestive themes. Mild violence, some graphic description of childbirth.
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Chapter playlist: 'Bella Reborn' from 'Breaking Dawn Part I' and 'Gwen and Arthur' from 'Merlin: Series 2'.
'The dark is generous, and it is patient, and it always wins - but in the heart of its strength lies weakness: one lone candle is enough to hold it back.
Love is more than a candle. Love can ignite the stars.'
- Star Wars: the Revenge of the Sith novelisation
The night was peaceful and still, almost everyone in the city in the trees asleep. For the first time in months, Loki slept undisturbed and free of nightmares, Jane clasped close in his arms.
It had been nearly a month since the Winter Solstice, the turn of the season. Soon the snows and frosts on the Forest floor would thaw, nourishing the roots of the trees where the Elves made their home and the sun would sit high in the sky, as the trees regained their leaves and the first blossoms appeared.
Loki was beginning to worry about Jane. It had been ten months, and although he knew nothing about Jotunn pregnancies, he knew human females gave birth at the ninth month, usually. The child was very well-developed, and he was pondering convincing Jane to induce labour and give birth soon.
He'd wished he could speak to Frigg, but there was still no news from Asgard beyond that Thor was ruling well and the All-Father had gracefully withdrawn from public life with his Queen. They were on their own.
A sudden cry woke Loki from his sleep, and he opened his eyes to see Jane, sat bolt upright, sweating and trembling, one hand over her swollen abdomen. Her eyes, wide with pain and shock, met his, the midnight blue flashing in the moonlight. He froze when he felt the cold touch of moisture next to his leg. "The baby," Jane gasped. "I think she's coming."
Loki moved fast after that, removing the wet bedclothes and ensuring Jane was as comfortable as she could be, under the circumstances. He roused Rila, Frey and a midwife named Nirie, and returned to the house with them quickly, Jane's shouts of pain echoing through the rooms. He blanched and rushed upstairs, to her side, Rila and Nirie not far behind.
"I'm here, love," he breathed, taking hold of her hand and sitting by her head. Rila smiled warmly, Jane managed a weak one back before the next contraction hit her, while Nirie immediately went to Jane and lifted the soiled skirts of her nightdress. Jane gritted her teeth against a scream as the contraction rippled through her, each one gradually more painful than the last.
"Why is it hurting her so much?" Loki asked. "Human births aren't usually this fast."
It had only been ten minutes, but the contractions were barely minutes apart. "I cannot tell, my Lord," Nirie shrugged. "It might be the hybrid causing the birth to progress faster."
Frey beckoned to Loki from the doorway, studiously avoiding looking at Jane. "We should leave the ladies to it," he called, but Loki bent such a murderous, heated glare at him, that he paled and stepped back.
"I will not leave the mother of my child alone in such pain," he replied testily, as Jane gripped his hand almost to breaking point. Gods, but she was strong when she was in pain.
Frey retreated alone after that, and the hours drew on as Jane laboured, sweating and pale, her voice growing hoarse as she was no longer able to hold in the screams, Rila tenderly wiping away the sweat with a wet cloth while Nirie tried her best to alleviate the pain and coach Jane through breathing exercises. Loki was twice threatened with castration by a very blunt object if he ever put her in this state again.
Finally, as the dawn came and the sun rose to greet the new day, Nirie smiled and nodded to Jane. "You can start pushing, my Lady."
Jane slumped back against Loki, exhausted. "I can't," she whispered faintly.
"You can, my love," Loki stroked her damp hair tenderly. "You have more strength in you than any creature in the Nine Realms. More than enough to bring our daughter into the Universe. You can do this."
"When you…" she gasped, as she gritted her teeth and kept talking determinedly. "When you came through that portal on Earth, did you ever….imagine…this!?"
"Never in my wildest dreams did I believe that I would ever be given such a gift as you," Loki replied, as she forced in a breath, groaning. "You fought me and you defied me, and dragged me back from the abyss. And now you're giving me the greatest gift anyone could ever give. A new life."
It seemed the sound of Loki's voice gave Jane new heart, and she found the strength to push, bearing down with all her might. The pressure building up in her lower abdomen grew with every push, and she cried out in agony and frustration. Her knuckles were white where they gripped Loki's hand so tightly.
Pain wracked her in hot waves, coming ever closely together until they blurred into one long, rippling tidal wave of pain. With Loki, Rila and Nirie's encouragement, she bore down again, crying out as she felt a tearing sensation between her legs, and then sweet, blessed relief as the pressure was abruptly gone, and all she could feel was slick wetness between her legs. An angry cry pierced the air, bringing tears to Jane's eyes, her hands blindly reaching out for their newborn daughter. "Let me see her," she pleaded.
"Wait just a moment, love," Loki's voice came from somewhere near her ear, but she didn't have the energy to look for him. "Both of you need to clean up."
Jane registered the wave of magic only dimly, as the mess of blood and sweat on the bed disappeared, her nightdress replaced and her body repaired by Nirie's magic. Her body still ached, but she recognised Loki's magic easing it for her, as she impatiently waited for Rila to hand her their daughter.
"A daughter," Rila smiled warmly. "Exactly as you predicted."
"Of course she is," Loki muttered haughtily, but Jane could hear the pride in his tone. She felt his weight leave her side, then return, a small bundle wrapped in blue blankets in his arms. He leant down, and smiled as tiny, elfin features met her eyes. "Our daughter, Jane."
She smiled, freely crying now. "Hi," she whispered, as one hand reached out to her, so small and fragile. She let her grasp her fingers, and gasped as she saw her eyes. "Loki?"
"A side-effect of your encounter with the darkness, my love," he murmured. Their little girl's eyes were the same dark, midnight blue as Jane's single eye. "She protected your body from it from the womb. If this is the only effect of that, I am happy for it."
"So am I," Jane whispered. "Hi, there baby girl. You saved my life."
Their daughter cried, and Rila softly spoke from the side. "She is hungry. You must feed her, Jane."
Carefully, Jane pulled down her nightdress and placed their daughter near her breast, the newborn's mouth blindly searching before she latched on and began to suckle. New tears came to Jane's eyes as she looked up at Loki, lost in his eyes, as bright and joyful as her own. All their fears, all their worries, disappeared into naught, as Rila and Nirie left them alone to inform Frey.
As their daughter fed contentedly at her breast, Jane inspected her closely. She was perfectly formed and lovely, her skin tinged a beautiful, light shade of blue, mixing effortlessly into the marble skin that came from Jane. She had a shock of black hair atop her head, falling in untamed curls to her tiny ears.
"She's beautiful," Jane breathed with a smile. "She's going to be a heartbreaker when she grows up."
"Not if I break whoever dares touch her first," Loki growled, only half-joking, as Jane sent him a narrow glare. "You were so strong, I am so proud of you, my love."
"Hey, we did this together," she corrected him softly, tilting her head up invitingly. Loki leant down and kissed her heatedly, relief and passion blending into one burst of sensation and emotion, until they were disturbed by a faint burp and an indignant cry. They parted and looked down, to see their daughter gazing up at them with an expression that was very familiar to Jane. "I don't think we're allowed PDAs anymore," she whispered to Loki with a smirk. He frowned, and then shook his head despairingly.
"You and your Earth vernacular," he sighed, stroking his daughter's hair tenderly. "I know that look too well."
"You see it in the mirror every time you look," Jane quipped dryly, and Loki glared at her.
"Rather I suspect that is your mother showing through, my little one," he retorted, looking back down at their daughter, who yawned, as if bored of them both, and settled to sleep, nestling into her mother's arms. "So imperious. Definitely your mother's daughter."
"Ha," Jane muttered darkly. "She's her daddy's girl if ever I saw one. And that's definitely pot calling the kettle black."
Loki sighed, and pulled her closer with his arm, and she relaxed into his embrace gratefully. "What shall we call her?" Jane asked sleepily.
"I had thought to let you decide that," Loki replied softly. Jane frowned, then smiled as old memories of Erik telling her stories from ancient mythology came to her.
"There's an old Irish name, Aoife. It means beautiful and radiant," she explained. "In Irish mythology, Aoife was the greatest warrior woman in Ireland."
"A fitting name for her, then," Loki pronounced. "Aoife. I like it."
"So do I," Jane smiled, closing her eyes as she cuddled the newly christened Aoife close. "Welcome to the Universe, Aoife."
"Let's hope it's ready for her," Loki quipped, prompting a tired chuckle from Jane as she fell back into slumber, her and their daughter cradled protectively in his arms. He stayed awake, a sentry on duty, watching over the two females who were the most precious things in the Universe to him.
Years later, Jane would look back on those first few months and wonder how they passed so quickly. But then, time did seem to pass so quickly on Alfheim.
She recovered her strength, and was up and about in no time. She and Loki quarrelled over almost everything, from Jane insisting he wasn't allowed to use sleeping charms on Aoife so they could get more than two hours' consecutive sleep a night, to whether or not they should allow Frey to bless the child in the Alfheim custom.
Aoife was an astounding child, but then she was so very powerful even from the womb, and despite Jane's modesty, both parents were extraordinary. She was crawling from only a month, then walking from three months, giving Jane and Loki new headaches over their all-too curious daughter, a trait they both blamed the other for, but only jokingly.
Jane started her combat training four months after Aoife's birth. The knife work was interesting and intricate, a real mix of dance and fighting, and despite how sore it made her, she loved it. Archery was another matter altogether, although at least some of that was Loki's fault.
She had just dropped Aoife off with Kaila for the afternoon, going to the archery range to meet Baelen for their usual session, when Loki had stepped out from behind an archery butt with a smirk as she'd looked for her instructor, his eyes dark and predatory.
"Baelen was called away. You'll be working with me this afternoon," he told her, his eyes raking over her practice gear. Jane eyed him narrowly, determined not to let him see how affected she was, when she'd come to practice.
"As long as my fighting skills are the only thing we'll be working on…" she muttered, feeling anticipation rush through her. Having a very active, advanced and curious four month old baby meant they no longer had as much time as they wished to spend together. In-between Aoife, her training with Baelen and Rila in combat and her studies, Jane usually went to sleep every night exhausted, and Loki wasn't much better.
She had a feeling that was about to change.
They'd started with the archery. Jane had taken up her stance, unable to avoid noting that the archery butts and practice area was absolutely deserted. Immediately, she knew it was a mistake to let Loki teach her anything, regardless of his skill, as he stepped up behind her, his heat in close proximity.
"You're too tense, Jane," he whispered in her ear. She felt his hands rise and smooth over her shoulders, forcing them to lower, before curving over her hand on the bow. "Marksmanship comes from breathing. Breathe in, and the arrow will rise. Breathe out, and it will lower. You must learn to control your breathing."
Her first attempt went wide, flying over the target set fifty metres away, and into the canopy. Jane growled through her teeth, sending Loki a narrow glare. With Baelen, she'd felt no discomfort and her focus was absolute. While not the most accurate marksman, she still hit the target if not the bull's-eye most times. Suddenly, as she nocked another arrow and pulled the bowstring back, Loki's free hand pressed hard against her abdomen, forcing her core muscles to tighten, and she sucked in a breath. Following her instinct, she released the arrow and it soared through the air until it hit the target, quivering in the bull's-eye.
"Continue like that, and you'll be off the practice bows in no time," he whispered in her ear, before retreating and watching her from a distance, occasionally offering advice. He was genuinely helpful, once at a distance, but Jane's muscles still quivered at the memory of his body pressed against her back.
Then had come the knife work, and that had ended in disaster.
She'd always known Loki was a formidable opponent, a master with blades even without using his magic, but the fact he was also her lover and mate, as the Elves called it, made it ten times worse. She tried to imagine a Chitauri in his place, or hell, even Lucy Poole from High School, who'd laughed at her braces and pushed her over during Gym enough times. But even that didn't help.
By the fifth time he pinned her, she was hot, frustrated and seriously torn between annoyance and arousal. He glared down at her, panting slightly, as she mentally congratulated herself for exerting him even that little bit. "You're not focussing enough," he growled. "You're holding back! Do not do so. An opponent in battle will not hold back, nor will they hesitate from harming you as you have done today."
"It's a bit difficult to concentrate when it's my own partner!" she replied heatedly. "You know sometime I don't know if I love you or hate you!"
"The feeling is entirely mutual," he'd growled back, before dropping his knife and reaching for her. Determined to get the upper hand, Jane had twisted him onto his back and pinned him with a triumphant expression.
"Got you!" she pronounced coolly, before throwing her weapons away and desperately kissing away his look of shock and surprise, their lovemaking descending into a more pleasurable, carnal extension of their fight, each battling for the upper hand.
Afterwards, they lay together in the dust and the cool shade of the practice area, panting and gasping for breath. "Well, that was unexpected," Jane gasped, slapping Loki's chest as he chuckled wildly beneath her. "Hey, not funny! Anyone could have walked in!"
"Trust me, love," he replied, once he recovered his composure, looking sinfully ravished and so very hers, on the ground underneath her. She draped herself over him, pleasure still thrumming under her skin, and ran her fingers through his shortened hair. "No one who knew we were here would have dared intrude. Our reputation precedes us, and you were rather loud…"
"Need I remind you who was yelling and moaning my name over and over again?" she retorted, and Loki just grinned unrepentantly, until his smile suddenly faded, the look in his eyes tender.
"It's been far too long. We mustn't forget this part of us, Jane," he told her quietly.
"I know," she breathed. "We won't. I'm sure you'll think of more than a few opportunities for us to spend together throughout the day, if I know you."
"Are you suggesting that I-?" he began, mock-frowning.
"That you have an irrepressibly dirty and one-track mind?" Jane cut him off with a roll of her hips against his, drawing a strained moan from his lips. "Yep."
"The match of yours, I think," he growled, already reaching up to pull her lips back to his.
After that, Loki left her training to Baelen. However, he also made sure to waylay her at least twice a day after they got out of bed, and Jane couldn't help but blush whenever Rila or Kaila told her how well she looked. As the months went on, she lost her baby weight and even toned up, the soft figure she'd had as a scientist giving way to the strong, lithe figure of the warrior. Despite disapproval from the older Elves, more of the women joined her in learning archery and self-defence.
Five months after Aoife's birth, she spoke her first word. "Mamma."
That night, Jane finally ate the Apple and accepted Frigg's gift. There was no way she ever wanted to miss a single moment of her daughter's life, or miss out on the all-consuming, sometimes difficult and dark, love she had found with Loki. They were both strong-willed characters, and Jane's defiance didn't fade with her mortality. It wasn't easy, but as Erik had once told her, the best things in life aren't always easy. Her research had been hard, with all the rejection and contempt from the scientific community, all those failed relationships until she found her man, and then he'd happened to be a partially psychotic, broken, manipulated figure from Norse legend. Nope, easy just wasn't in Jane's vocabulary and she couldn't be happier.
Things weren't perfect. As the months drew on, Loki sometimes grew tense and brooding, looking up at the sky from their observation platform and frowning darkly. A storm was coming, and he sensed its' approach. He didn't doubt it was headed for the Realm Eternal first, and he pondered what to do about it.
A plan was taking shape in his mind, although he didn't even tell Jane of it, knowing she would argue and refuse to co-operate. But he needed her to be safe, and he wondered how to make it work.
Frey was ailing, and although he'd only confided in Loki reluctantly, while drunk, Laevateinn had begun to turn against him. Like Mjolnir, the ancient sword was enchanted only to accept a bearer worthy of its power, and it seemed Frey no longer was. He doubted his old friend and surrogate grandfather would have the strength to withstand the storm.
Ten months after Aoife's birth, just as the Winter Solstice came, Rila and Baelen's child was born, a girl they named Aeslin. By then, Aoife was walking and talking independently of her parents, and she excitedly accepted the little Elf as a playmate, almost taking the newborn baby under her wing. All four adults smirked and laughed at Aoife's protective ways and her domineering personality. She was her father's daughter in that.
And in more ways than one. Aoife's magic had been present and she had wielded it from the womb instinctively, and now it often burst from her in uncontrolled surges that even Loki was astounded by. She was powerful, his little one, and she needed careful instruction if she was to avoid hurting anyone with her magic.
She had started sleeping through the night, but restlessly, and Loki realised with sinking heart that she, unknowingly and with no idea how to control it, had begun to sense and dream the coming storm, as he did. He could only be there to calm her, since all the techniques to block out the dreams were too advanced for a one-year old child, even her, his incredible daughter.
It hurt him more than he had ever imagined, holding her as she screamed and cried, Jane stood by his side, holding back her own tears and fear with gritted teeth, and try in vain to soothe her. Eventually, he worked out a spell to block that part of her power until she was old enough to control it herself, when she came of age.
But now, he watched and waited for the sign he knew would come.
When Aoife was eighteen months old, they were dining with Frey, Rila, Baelen, Alona and their children, drinking wine and talking idly in the twilight while their children played on the rug, shielded from the fire by a magical shield Loki had conjured.
Jane reclined in Loki's arms, her eyes dreamily closing, when an indignant cry and incoherent baby babble woke her up. Looking up, she realised Aoife had used magic to take a toy from Caleb, Alona's son, while Aeslin watched them both bemusedly.
"Aoife!" she scolded her gently, leaving Loki's arms to take the toy back, and give it to Caleb. "You do not use magic to take other peoples' things! Do you understand? It's bad!"
"Yes, Mamma, but Aeslin ask nicely, and he did not share!" Aoife muttered mutinously, in her babyish lisp, as Jane picked her up and perched her on her hip. Immediately the eighteen month old toddler began playing with Jane's hair and the necklace Loki had made for her around her neck, playing with the carved wooden pendant in the shape of a star eagerly. Frey and Loki chuckled, while Alona quietly scolded Caleb for not sharing. Rila smiled and conjured a new toy for Aeslin to play with, and the little she-Elf smiled and clapped happily, while Baelen lowered himself to the floor to play with her.
"She has your temper but her mother's sense of justice," Frey said to Loki in an aside. Loki didn't demur.
"She's a miracle," he replied quietly, watching his mate and daughter as Jane slowly spun in a circle, a mock-waltz, quietly humming to Aoife until the little girl's eyes drooped. "Time for bed, I think, little one."
"Not…sleepy…" Aoife replied mulishly between yawns. Loki just smirked as he took her from Jane and cradled her in his arms.
"Of course you're not," he murmured, passing a hand over her eyes and guiding them closed. He had perfected the sleeping spell until it had no side effects. Bar Jane's glaring.
"I told you to stop doing that!" she hissed half-heartedly. "You're setting a bad example to her!"
"She's asleep, Jane. Difficult to set a bad example when she's not conscious to-ow!" he was cut off by a slap to his arm, and he glared at her pointedly. Their company laughed and snorted into their wine glasses.
"I think the Lady has spoken, Loki," Frey chuckled, raising his glass to them just as a messenger strode into the room, pale and tense. The elder Aesir frowned as the messenger bent his head and whispered a few words into his ear, before he blanched and set his glass down, before the messenger bowed and fled the room as if the very hounds of Hel pursued him.
A silence fell over the group, dark and tense, the calm before the storm. "Frey, what is it?" Loki asked at last, Jane taking the sleeping Aoife from him. "What news from Asgard?"
"They are under attack," Frey replied, with a loaded glance at Loki and Jane. "Thanos has come."
To be continued...