25. Fear

And they tell no one, opting to hold onto their secret as long as they can. They decide against telling the children, figuring that they will be informed when everyone else is, since the risk that one of them could let it slip is highly likely though it won't be intentional.

He is pacing around the room while she sits before a small mirror, preparing for the celebration that has been hastily arranged for the return of the warriors. She is finishing getting ready, already having the children safely put into Arnbjorg's care after deciding to not relive the past in which Fenrir and Jorgamandr attempted to frighten people by displaying exactly how good they were at shape shifting.

"We can't hide it forever," she says, pulling back her hair, twisting it, attempting to a style that appears remotely fashionable without being difficult.

"I know," he says, coming to her side, kissing her. The words of his father still ring in his ears months after they were spoken. His father would want them to have children, for there to be a line of succession, and this frightens him. He doesn't want to imagine his father's expectations, the weight that will placed on this situation. "But let's stay like this for as long as possible."

She rests her hand on his cheek. "What are you afraid of?"

"Everything."

"We'll be fine." She lets go of him, reaching for a thin necklace to wear. When she struggles with the clasp, he takes it from her hands, quickly clasping the necklace. She smiles at him. "We have time to prepare."

He escorts her to the celebration, keeping her hand tightly held in his own. When the people she calls friends come by her, trying to persuade her away, his grip tightens. But she eases her hand from his, kisses his cheek when they've turned their backs and whispers, "I'll be fine. I promise."

He reluctantly lets her go without a fight. He watches her laugh with them, be pleasant. He fights back fears that rise like bile. He fears he will be a terrible father, that caring for three children with Sigyn has only emphasized his flaws, that good intentions aren't enough. And there is the nagging reminder that he is expected to have sons, expected to be the one who will provide an heir because he is the one who is married, he who is the family's disappointment. It terrifies him that this assumption will be placed on his children, because he knows in his heart that any child of his will be associated with his father's flaws, and he cannot imagine what his father will want of this child, considered another heir in the line of succession.

But only they know now, he thinks, watching how she casual she is with the other women, speaking with them so easily. He wishes it could stay that way, that no one would ever have to know, save for the children. That they might be able to hide themselves away, keep a basic family life that wasn't dictated by royal regulations. The life Sigyn led, the life she described to him once when she had to heal him, seems so much nicer than the one he's known. Her father was so much closer to her and her sisters, their mother close. They had been a tight family unit despite problems, growing up without concerns.

"But what about an heir?" He'd asked.

"My father didn't consider it." She shrugged. "There were more important things. Of course, when the time came, it was who wanted it. None of us really wanted it so Fridr and her husband took it."

He remains on edge until she leaves them, slipping quietly back to the place beside him, letting him take her hand. "I told you I would be fine," she says, gray eyes sparkling.

"I know." He trusts her but he doesn't trust them. He has as much faith in their promises as they have in his. "I would like it if we left."

"All right," she says, letting him lead her away. When they are past sight, he wraps his arm around her, feeling the need to ensure that no harm will come to her, the idea that he has to protect her already taking a forefront in his mind. She is skilled enough to defend herself, he knows, but instinctively he keeps her pressed against his side.

They see the children, she insisting that she'll put them to bed instead of Arnbjorg. He doesn't involve himself, staying back, letting her go to the boys, kissing their foreheads. And while Sigyn is answering their nonsense questions, all in a matter of staying awake past their curfew, Hel is the one who comes and hugs him. Taken a little aback, he hesitates before returning the embrace. The little girl scampers back to where Sigyn sits with the boys, coerced into telling a story that Jormagandr and Fenrir interrupt on occasion with their own commentary.

Later that night, when it has returned to just being them, he sits in his thoughts while she has already fallen asleep. He lets himself toy with the idea of leaving in the night, leaving Asgard for good to take up residence among the Vanir. The stories of Sigyn's childhood still sit in his mind and when he compares them to his childhood, he is left wondering if he could let his children endure a similar life.

He is debating how he could bring up the idea when she slides up against him, sleep lining her voice. "What are you thinking about?" She leans her head against his shoulder, eyes closed.

"Nothing." He lets the idea go. "Go back to sleep."

"I can't sleep." Even in her drowsing state, she smiles. "It's too cold."

"You go back to bed, I'll be there soon enough."

"Tell me what you're thinking."

"Sigyn-"

"I know you," she says with a sigh. "You're going to sit here until dawn thinking about things you shouldn't worry about." There is a sharp pause and he wants to believe she's drifted back off to sleep. "Is this about the baby?"

"Yes."

"Oh, Loki." She turns and touches his face, letting her fingers rest against his cheek. "It's all going to be fine. We're managing just fine with Hel and the boys right now. Granted a baby will be more work but we can do it." She kisses him. "Do not let what's happened before worry you so much."

"I'll try."

"Good." She rises, tugging at his hand. "Now come along." He follows her, letting her press against his chest, wrapping his arms around her.

"Sigyn?" He whispers into her hair.

"Yes?"

"Have you ever thought about leaving Asgard?"

"Once or twice. Why?"

"What do you think of leaving?"

"I don't think it would work out."

"Why not?"

"Your family is here, Loki. Some of my family is here. To leave here is to leave that family behind." She sighs. "I don't think it would be wise."