Frigga's Sight was fading. It was both odd and frightening to look into what might be and see only a fog where only a month ago it had been clear as day – clearer than normal, in fact. Not that she'd liked everything she'd Seen. Now, however, the only inkling of foresight she had left came in the form of gut feelings and vague flashes of images she didn't understand.

She wondered if it had anything to do with…

Her hand unconsciously traveled to her stomach as she frowned. She couldn't think of a reason why that would change her Sight. it hadn't with Thor… This child would be different, though. She had Looked before her Sight had gone. He was all smiles, chestnut hair and blue eyes. He would love music and dancing and giving hugs. Entirely innocent.

She had yet to tell anyone – including Odin. The shock of finding herself with child, old as she was, still ran through her. Though, after two months she supposed it might be time to share the news. But she worried. She knew Thor would be ecstatic and Odin would have a father's pride. Her younger son, however, was still the uncertainty. He always had been, she supposed. Once, she had known him so well as to be able to predict, if not know for certain, how he would react. But he had changed so much since then. And the things she had Seen frightened her – though she knew nothing was set entirely in stone. Death had swept behind him like a cloak, Ragnarok trailing destruction in his wake. The Wolf, the Serpent, and the Dead One held his hands as children, all covered in blood from head to toe. And all had come to pass for imagined slight borne of being an outsider to his own family. Because he felt somehow a lesser being by nature of his birth. How deep had he smothered those feelings – that resentment? She doubted it was truly gone, though she could hope. How would he react to the news of a new, true-born brother so soon after he conquered the madness that had so nearly consumed him? Would it push him back over the edge? Back on the path towards the End of Days?

The suns had gone down perhaps an hour past and Frigga sat beside the happily crackling fire, breathing in the savory scent of fresh-caught fish cooking near the flames. She could not bear to dwell on those dark thoughts. Thor and Jane were still beside the lake, talking and gazing up at the stars that must still seem so strange to the girl. She wished the young scientist could stay in Asgard for a time, yet knew it would likely be a while before such a thing was possible. The laws surrounding the presence of mortals in the realm of the gods were strict and longstanding and severely out of date. Her sons had found a loophole allowing Cara to stay without repercussions, but that strategy could work only once, she knew. And the Allfather – in his infinite, infuriating, responsibility – would now allow Jane a public visit to Asgard until he could gracefully change the law. He hoped Cara would pave the way towards Asgardians accepting mortal kind as equal rather than subservient. She hoped it wouldn't accidentally increase the animosity in an already-strained relationship between her sons.

Her gaze snapped up to the treeline behind their large tents as she heard a rustle in the leaves. As her husband emerged – his face lined with thought and concern – followed by Loki and Cara, Frigga's fingers uncurled from around the long dagger she customarily kept in her boot. She stood up from the ground with a smile and went to embrace the old man.

"How was the hunt?"

"Two Ras-Alda. The girl got the second one, herself."

"The second one almost got the girl, itself," Loki grumbled in correction, glaring half-heartedly at the woman in question.

Thor and Jane suddenly emerged from the trees at the opposite end of camp. Naturally, the news of the hunt was repeated, and Frigga took a brief moment to speculate on what could have worried the Allfather.

"What's that?" Jane's sharp brown eyes were curiously fixed on something dark and furry in Cara's arms – something Frigga had failed to notice. Oh how she missed her Sight. The small, ark form squirmed briefly in the hunter's arms as a small, pink tongue stretched out in a yawn.

"It's a direwolf, dear," the Queen replied quietly. In her mind, she Saw the Great Wolf chained and immobile under the Asgardian sun, surrounded by his enemies. Blood ran freely from his mouth as his bloodshot eyes burned with rage. Her grandson. She forced a smile for the creature. "Have you given him a name yet?" There was hope. Just choose a different name!

The girl's face contorted for a moment in intense thought. "Fenrir," she decided. A shiver of dread ran down the older woman's spine and she glanced up at her husband, seeing her own unease written on his face. Once it had been said, it could not be unsaid. Fenrir. The signs of Ragnarok were upon them – and so soon! She had hoped her sons would have more time now that they were slowly coming to peace.

She could see her frown was drawing too much attention to her thoughts, so she replaced her smile as well as she could muster. "Well, we seem to be adding to the family wherever we go! Why don't you and Jane clean him up a bit dear." She needed to get Odin alone. They must talk.

"Loki," Thor smiled, eyes both troubled and suspicious over his parents' behavior. Her younger son's face was creased with doubt. She would not be able to hide this from them for long, and there was much to explain – much she had Seen and wished she could unsee. "You must tell me of the hunt. It seems a battle I should have been sorry to miss – had I not spent the afternoon in such pleasant company." He flashed Jane a wink and she laughed. Something about that bright sound abruptly lifted the dark cloud that had seemed to settle over the camp, and Frigga took a deep breath. Now was not the time for despair. It was the time for strategy.

Ѡ

Cara sighed as she and Jane waited for water to warm over the fire. Fenrir was anxious to be near the warmth, but the hunter could tell he was frightened by the flames. It wasn't particularly hard to figure out why. She tried to distract him by rolling him around in the dirt as he chewed playfully at her fingers. He licked her apologetically when he once bit down hard enough to draw blood. With a small laugh, she held him out in front of her as he wagged his tail happily.

"I find you in a cave covered in blood, save you, and you snap at me when I try and give you a bath. Somehow I get the feeling you're going to take after Loki."

The Trickster, himself, chuckled as he sat down beside her with a smile. "Well, I hope so. It would be positively shameful for a direwolf to be as small as you, my dear."

"Says the pocket-sized frost giant."

Jane laughed.

"That's still some – as you Midgardians say – 'low-hanging fruit?'"

"Well someone neglected to bring the step stool."

"If it would make you feel better…" With a self-satisfied grin, he conjured the image of a small ladder off to his right, gesturing dramatically at its appearance.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. You're so clever."

Fenrir let out a small puppy bark even as Loki planted a gentle kiss on her cheek. She tousled the pup's muddy fur and smiled. "You're far too young to be already agreeing with him on everything."

The direwolf's ice-blue eyes seemed only to laugh in response. The amount of comprehension in those eyes was frightening. Cara got the distinct impression she'd gotten herself into something perhaps more complicated than adopting a new pet.

"Nonsense," came the inevitable smooth reply. The trickster slid his arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him. "If more people agreed with me, the Realms would have far fewer problems."

Jane barked out a laugh, calling his bluff. After a few moments, she smiled more gently. "You've probably solidified your nickname, you know." The scientist reached out to scratch behind Fenrir's ears.

Cara sighed in resignation. "Apparently Thor is more insightful than I give him credit for."

The thunder god in question smiled and shrugged as he sat down beside the doe-eyed scientist. "It could stand a moment's revision."

"And how would you amend it dear brother?" Loki was almost leaning forward in anticipation, curiosity shining in those green eyes.

Cara dipped her finger into the warm water to judge the temperature before unceremoniously dunking Fenrir in. An impressive amount of blood and dirt and loose fur drifted immediately away from the pup, who seemed to be glaring up at her in all his sopping-wet glory. She chuckled for a brief moment before Thor's response brought her up short.

"Wolf Mother."

"'Mother?'"

"Direwolves are frightful intelligent," he shrugged. "That pup will like be more a child than a pet."

"Oh dear," she murmured. It seemed she was collecting children recently, and she wasn't entirely sure she was well-suited for it – not to mention she hadn't really noticed it happening before it was too late. Hela sure acted like she was somewhat of a total failure as a parent, and that didn't give her much confidence in her qualifications for adoption. And she'd rather been enjoying her alone time with Loki lately. They'd only been "dating" for maybe a little over a month now. She didn't really have any serious qualms about spending the rest of her brief lifetime with him – so far, at least – but it seemed a lot to early to bringing children into it. Things had moved fast, but not that fast. She shot a glare at the amused Trickster beside her. At least he wasn't upset about effectively being made a father without so much as a nod of agreement. Then again, he was several hundred years more mature – scratch that, just several hundred years older – than she was. He'd had plenty of bachelor time, and he'd have plenty of it again after she died and the kids grew up. "You could have warned me, you know."

"I doubt it would have made much of an impact on you. And far be it from me to deny you anything." That infuriating, teasing, god-awfully attractive smirk of his played across his face as his eyes danced.

She looked over at Jane, who was wearing a similar expression to Thor's amused-yet-sympathetic gaze. "I don't suppose you have any idea what to give an Asgardian prince for Father's Day, do you?"

Ѡ

Karnilla smiled to herself as she turned from the scrying glass. The board was set, the game would soon begin. The warnings and whispers of the End of Days had been spoken – though only few had listened. But she had to play her pieces quickly. She knew the moves to make. The Mother of Wolves must not have opportunity to react – to change the game. And all would then be well.

"I hope you're ready, mortal," she murmured to herself. And she meant it. It was no fun to play against a powerless opponent. And the Norn Queen always played to win.