She floated for a long time, or at least that was the closest thing she could approximate it to. Everything in her mind was all jumbled and she kept feeling like there was something important she was meant to do. The only problem was that no matter how hard she tried to remember what it was, it skated around the edges of her thoughts, never making itself clear.
When she finally wrenched her eyes open, the most beautiful face greeted her. An angular, angelic face with a stricken expression. But she knew him. Well, he was familiar at least.
"You're not supposed to be here," she croaked.
"What?" The angel with the wild, raven hair must be slow, she decided.
"When you die, you're meant to go to Valhalla. But I don't think that's where I went. They probably wouldn't let me in." The words came out in a dreamy stream, making her angel's brow furrow even farther.
"Erna, I'm not dead."
"Oh good." She pulled in a deep breath before continuing, already feeling sleep tugging her back down to the floaty place. "You're too pretty to die. I don't know why, but just looking at you makes me happy. I suppose that comes with the territory of being an angel."
"Erna, you aren't making any sense."
Whatever she was going to reply died on her lips as she slipped back into unconsciousness.
Over the next... well however long it was, only snatches of conversation made it down to her. But she heard the same words over and over again. Rest. Confused. Concussion. Observation. Recovery. Patience. Rest.
When she surfaced again the angel was right where she'd left him. He was in sharper focus this time though.
She picked up the thread she'd dropped earlier. "If you're not dead, then how are you here?"
He pondered her question a moment and narrowed his pale eyes at her."Where do you think here is?"
"I don't actually know. I never put much stock in what the priests used to yammer on about. Whatever comes after I guess."
"You're not dead either, little one."
Little one. That jangled something in the back of her mind. Only one person called her that. "Loki?"
"Yes, Erna." Despite his grin, she spotted tears in his eyes as well.
"You're mine," she blurted out, earning a bark of laughter from him.
"I am indeed yours." Tears now flowed steadily down his cheeks.
"I feel so fuzzy."
"I know, little one. Rest will take care of that."
"I have so many questions."
"I'll tell you anything you want to know, Erna."
"I can't remember them." Now she was crying, frustration finding the only outlet available to her.
"Shh, little one. They'll come back with rest."
"I don't know who she is, but I'm worried about her..." Fatigue again overtook her, but Loki's watery smile was the last thing she saw before the sleep came.
It took two days of drifting in and out before she started to feel like herself. But a cold brace of fear overtook her when she remembered the baby. Loki climbed into bed with her and held her tight as he reassured her over and over again that she was fine. They both were.
He'd bullied the healers into scanning her several times a day just to be sure. He hadn't realized how much he relied on Erna's reports of her wellbeing and without it he had to be reassured that his daughter was safe.
Her thoughts slowly started coming to order as the fuzziness receded. When she started asking about her father and all that had transpired, he would only tell her it was a story best saved for when she was stronger.
It took a week, but she was finally able to walk around without a hint of dizziness. It wasn't very far, just to the bathroom and back, but it was progress enough.
When she next found them alone, she decided she wouldn't take no for an answer. "Tell me what happened. Everything." It wasn't a request.
He searched her face for a long moment before resigning himself to the inevitable. "What do you remember?" He sat down beside her on the bed and took her hands in his, a gentle gesture she appreciated more than she could ever articulate.
"My father came here to kill me himself. He had a dagger. And then there was a great light and then I next remember seeing your face."
"A light?"
"Golden and strong and so incredibly hot."
"I don't know anything about that. All I know is I felt the ward warn me you'd called for help and when I came into the room seconds later you were both collapsed on the floor."
"Both?"
"Your father was unconscious almost as long as you were. We thought you'd killed him at first."
"Killed him? I didn't even touch him."
"It's possible you're blocking it out…" he trailed off, looking so sympathetic her heart ached. But the concern was unwarranted.
"No, Loki. My mind would have no trouble processing the details if I'd hurt or killed him myself. I pictured it so many times while he teased and taunted me, but I couldn't work out any scenario where I wouldn't end up dead from the effort." She'd assumed Loki would have answers for her, but this just lead to more questions.
"I don't understand what stopped him then." He didn't look pleased in his confusion.
"I just assumed it was you. I've been around you long enough to sense when magic is at play and it definitely was."
"There wouldn't have been anything left if I would have attacked him. As it is, I'm only keeping him alive long enough for you to decide what to do with him. As much as I want to eviscerate him, it's not my decision to make."
It may have been an odd gift for a husband to offer, but what he was giving her was precious in its own way. But Loki wasn't finished discussing the strange incident. "Describe this light. Did it come in from the balcony? The fire?"
"It was…" She hesitated, not understanding it herself. "I think it came from me. Before I even saw the light I felt this powerful heat encompass me."
"Heat?" He quickly focused on that detail. "So you felt yourself burning first?"
"Not exactly. I didn't feel any pain. Loki, I know this sounds like madness—"
He cut her off with a wave of both hands. "Erna, after everything that's happened so far, I'm open to believe just about anything. And it actually sounds like something I'm intimately familiar with."
"It does?" Here she thought she'd have another argument on her hands to get him to believe her, but he surprised her once again.
"You've seen me conjure fire before."
"You showed me once when we began our courtship, a pretty little green flame."
"Well that's far from all I'm capable of. I've wielded much larger flames on the battlefield to great effect and what you describe is how it feels when I'm summoning the strength to cast the spell. I feel like I'm baking in my own skin and yet there is no pain."
Now she was the one staring at other with incredulity. She wasn't trained in magic and she certainly hadn't purposely done anything like what he'd described. "But there was no fire, only light."
"I'm not saying it's exactly the same, but you can't ignore the similarities. I've never discussed this bit of magic with you and yet you described the feeling perfectly." Loki continued musing, picking up momentum as he went. "It takes a terrible amount of strength to wield that kind of energy. There's a reason I've only used it as a last resort. I've been known to pass out afterward."
"What? You think that I did something like that? Loki, I think I'd know if I could harness that kind of magic."
"If you weren't still recovering from a nasty concussion I think you would have gotten to the conclusion quicker than I did." He spread a large hand across her stomach. "You can't, but I believe she can."
"Loki, she's not even born yet!" In and of itself the idea of their child already having that kind of power was rather terrifying, but it immediately worried her as well. "If it drains you like that, what could it have done to her?"
"Erna, rest assured that she's perfectly healthy. I've had her checked time and time again." He wrapped one arm protectively around her and pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. "Little one, I think she used your strength to cast the spell. You slept far longer than you should have given your injuries."
"You say spell like she even knows what that means!" No matter how ridiculous it sounded in her own head, somehow she was okay with the protection from the poison, yet this new show of power horrified her. What if she'd been hurt? "She can't talk or read or anything yet!"
"You were able to feel her before, Erna. Check her to be sure. Is she in distress?"
She tried to calm her breathing and focused on her daughter, calling out to her with her thoughts. As she sat silently clutching her belly, she felt like an idiot for even attempting it like this. Before when she'd felt the baby's mood, it was like the child was sending it to her rather than her seeking it out. She wasn't even sure if this way was possible.
It took several minutes of concentration, but eventually she felt a little bloom of something that felt like consciousness. "Loki, talk to her."
"What?"
"She likes it when you talk to her. I've felt her clearly before when you've done it."
"I… what should I say?"
"You speak to her most nights when you think I'm asleep and now you're tongue tied?"
He gave her a startled glare, but she spotted a stain of blush across his cheeks before he bent to obey her request. For such a smart man he could be remarkably thick sometimes. "Tiny one." She couldn't help but smile at the moniker. "It's your father."
"She knows who you are." It came out without a thought and she knew it to be absolutely true.
He continued. "I'm beginning to understand exactly what you did for your mother and I'm extremely grateful. Do me a favor and let her know you're all right."
Almost immediately she felt the warm, happy sensation she'd known before and she started weeping with the joy and relief of it. "She's fine," she gasped when she saw Loki's desolate expression at her tears.
They held each other for a long while, each finally accepting the fact that all was well. The bed rest they kept forcing on her would mend her body, but already she felt grounded and more serene than she had in weeks. She was with Loki, their daughter was strong and happy, and her family was safe. They could handle whatever was left to deal with, she was certain of that.