A/N: I have no explanation as to why this took so long except to say that being a lawyer is so very, very exhausting. That being said, I'm happy to have this done and ready to post - if anyone's still reading, that is. Things are going to start moving very quickly from here; although I'm not experienced in writing action/fight scenes, there will be many of those yet to come. I can also say that writing Tony Stark is both a challenge and a joy. I'm not nearly as quick with the snappy lines, but he's so entertaining and fun to play with.

I'm throwing a quick trigger warning for miscarriages in here, just in case.

Maybe if I ever start getting paid by people and don't have to work 70+ hours a week, I'll have more time to work on this (and the other 5 stories I have going). I sincerely hope you guys enjoy this chapter, and please leave comments if you're still here, just so I know there's a reason to keep posting. And again, I'm so sorry for the long wait between chapters.

Song: "A Love Without End, Amen" by George Strait.

Even with the Scepter contained within a locked case, Thor could feel its pull, as though it was a sentient being trying to communicate with him. It seemed to have some kind of window into his thoughts, which didn't necessarily surprise him—the wand contained and was seemingly powered by the Mind Stone, after all—but it was more than that. His thoughts seemed amplified, like he could hear them being broadcast through a loudspeaker. And not all of them were pleasant.

He tried to focus on his mission, striding through the palace toward the vault. Once he deposited the scepter within the safest place in the realm, he would check on the Lawsons—as he was sure both they and Grace would appreciate—and then would meet with his father to discuss the plan of action. That conversation would, he realized, have to include what Loki had told them about Thanos and his intentions. He wasn't entirely sure Loki was right, but at the very least, Odin should hear of it. What troubled Thor was the idea that his brother had gotten involved with Thanos at all. Had he been so blindly desperate for a throne that he hadn't cared about what Thanos had in store for the universe? And how had he come to know of those plans in the first place? He had said that one learns to be circumspect when it came to Thanos, so what had he done or said to earn The Mad Titan's trust? Thor understood that Loki was no longer the same man who had done Thanos' bidding. But perhaps because he had been betrayed by his brother so many times, there was a quiet but insistent voice in his head that was saying he should be wary of trusting anything Loki said.

Finally, he reached his destination. Without his even asking, the two guards standing sentinel at the doors stepped aside, allowing him entrance to the vault. Once inside, he turned to one of them. "Come with me."

Wordlessly, the guard sheathed his golden sword and followed Thor inside. As the doors closed behind them, Thor marched toward the back of the vault. "This scepter," he continued, taking it from its case, "must be guarded at all times until the Allfather and I can determine how to properly dispose of it. Ensure that it is."

The guard nodded. "As you wish, sir."

Thor was halfway to the doors when he was struck by something; the guard had referred to him as "sir" rather than by a royal title. Not that he cared about such things, really, but it certainly wasn't possible that a palace guard didn't know who he was. It was especially unlikely in this case, given that this guard was entrusted to keep watch over what was arguably the most vulnerable part of the realm. He walked back to where he had come from, only to find the guard standing next to the scepter, hands clasping his sword once again. Although a feeling of deep suspicion washed over him, Thor shook it off. It must have been the leftover effects of the stone, he told himself. After all, he had been carrying it for quite some time. With a last look at the soldier, he turned and walked back to the entrance of the vault, leaving his paranoia locked inside with the rest of Asgard's secrets.

It took another twenty minutes for him to reach Grace's parents' chambers. They were in the same wing of the palace in which Grace and Amy had stayed when they had last visited together. This was not necessarily a coincidence, as these rooms were close to the center of the castle, making them less accessible and more easily protected than the alternatives. Though Grace had been told that her parents were only on Asgard as a precaution, the fact was that if either Jotunheim or Thanos were aware of Loki's survival—and, in Thanos' case, that both the scepter and the Tesseract were lost to him—everyone in Loki's orbit would be at risk. The elder Lawsons had been told only what was necessary for that reason. The less they knew, the safer they were.

He knocked gently on the door and waited a moment before opening it. The scene before him should have surprised him, and yet nothing about it did. Vivian sat on the in front of the fireplace, her eyeglasses reflecting the flames, engaged in conversation with Frigga. As he entered, both women turned their heads toward him, and Vivian leaped out of her seat.

"Thor!" she exclaimed. "Is everything all right? Is Grace—"

He accepted her hug before acknowledging his mother—technically a violation of propriety, but he knew Frigga would care very little. "All is well, do not be alarmed."

"And Loki? Is he okay too?"

He glanced warily at Frigga, who gave a nearly imperceptible nod. "He is also as well as can be expected under the circumstances. He is taking great care of Grace and Amy, as Heimdall tells me."

Vivian smiled weakly. "Well, I don't need Heimdall to tell me that."

Thor was about to reply, but then realized that Grace's father was nowhere to be seen. "I'm sorry, but where is—"

"Al's asleep," she said, gesturing to the closed door on the opposite side of the room. Although her voice remained kind and even, the look in her eyes told him that she wished he hadn't asked.

Frigga stood up as well. "Vivian, I hate to end our visit so soon, but I must excuse myself for the evening. We are still preparing the palace for Grace's eventual arrival for the birth, and I must speak to the healers to ensure they have obtained the medications a mortal woman will require."

Vivian's expression brightened a bit. "I highly recommend they also have smelling salts."

Thor furrowed his brow. "Is it common for women to faint during childbirth?"

The two women exchanged an amused, knowing look, and Frigga took her son's arm. "No, but the same cannot be said for men."

"Thank you for visiting, Frigga," Vivian said, taking the queen's hand and patting it gently.

"It was my pleasure. Should you require anything, Dagmar will be at your service. She insisted, since you were kind enough to include her in Grace's shower."

"Oh, we'll be just fine," Vivian replied, and grabbed Thor's other arm. He could see the discomfort etched into her face. "Thor…"

"Yes?"

She threw a quick glance at the bedroom door. "Please promise me that as soon as you know anything, you'll tell me. I know they're safer where they are, but they're—they're all we have."

He nodded gravely. "I will. I give you my word."

She seemed to study his face for a moment, deciding whether he was being truthful. Then, her expression softened. "Thank you," was all she said, letting go of his arm.

After securing the door behind them, Thor turned to his mother. "What do you know that I do not?"

Frigga's eyes reflected his own and she said, "A great many things." When she proceeded down the hallway, he followed silently, until they were well out of earshot of the Lawsons' chambers.

"I cannot protect them if I do not know all the information," he said. "What are you not telling me, Mother?"

"It is not information relevant to the safety of the realm, or of your brother's family," she replied softly.

Thor processed this for a moment and then thought he might know what she was talking about. "Is it to do with Grace's father?" When she didn't reply, he stopped walking and called out to her. "Mother?"

She stopped and came back to him, taking his hand and leading him to a stone bench where they could sit. "When your father and I were first wed," she began, "it was not an altogether happy union." Thor already knew this, at least in vague terms. Arranged marriages—particularly in the aristocracy—were more common than not. "It took many years before we were even marginally in love. But eventually, when we had at least come to an understanding and had some affection for each other, we decided to have children."

"And did your love strengthen as a result?"

She nodded and said, "But not because we had a child. It was because…" Then, she blinked and looked away from him, and for a second, he swore he could feel pain radiating from her.

"Because…"

"Because we lost one."

Had he been holding Mjolnir, it might have fallen through the castle floor. How had he never known about this? "Do you mean to say that you had a child before me?" It was a rhetorical question.

She all but whispered her reply. "We had a daughter, born midsummer, half a century before you. We named her Asti." She looked out over the horizon, as if lost in a memory. "She was so like my mother in appearance but had your father's eyes."

Thor's head continued to spin. He wasn't even sure he wanted to know the answer to his next question, but he had to ask. "What happened to her?"

HIs mother was usually so measured that it was a bit unnerving to see her so forlorn. She wasn't looking at him anymore; instead, she gazed off into the distance at the Bifrost, as though the answer lay in the stars. "She was still a baby when it happened. The healers never could determine the cause. But one day, I went to the cradle to wake her, and she…"

He didn't need her to complete the thought. "Why are you telling me this?"

"To help you understand," she said. "When she passed, your father and I reacted in very different ways. As you might imagine, I was quite emotional, as mothers generally are in such situations. But your father was—"

"Stoic," he replied instinctively. But to his surprise, Frigga shook her head.

"He fell into a deep depression. True, he was not as expressive, but it was evident to all that he was grief-stricken. What I feared most was that he would fall into the Odinsleep. In his state, he may never have awakened, and I would have had to bear the loss of our child and my husband."

"So how did it bring you closer?"

She closed her eyes briefly, summoning the memories. "One day, it appeared that my fears would become reality. Your father had begun to tire more easily, and between his obvious grief and the duties of being king, he was significantly weakened. His advisors were encouraging him to enter into the sleep, but, as I said, I knew that he would never awaken. Until then, I hadn't dared share my own feelings with him. I didn't want to add to his pain with my own."

"But surely he knew of it," Thor said, suddenly disgusted. "Why would he not have comforted you as well?"

"You know as well as I that men are taught to be—as you suggested—stoic. He was incapable of comforting me when he felt weak for being affected by his own feelings."

Thor took a moment to digest this, under his mother's gentle gaze. "What changed, then?"

Frigga smiled a little sadly. "When I found out what the advisors were suggesting, I had no choice. I went to him and finally allowed myself to share my feelings with him. I asked him what you did just now—why he had not done the same. He explained that losing our daughter was painful, but the anger he felt at himself for failing her was worse. And he believed I was angry with him as well."

"But why—"

She put a hand on top of his. "It matters little what is objectively true. When our mind tells us something is so, and especially when it tells us something about ourselves, that is what is true in our hearts."

For a moment, Thor wondered if this is how Loki could still believe himself to be a monster despite all evidence to the contrary. "Mother…what has this to do with Grace's parents?"

She chose the most blunt and honest phrasing she could. "Vivian is angry with Alvin because Alvin is angry with Loki."

He took a deep breath, letting it out in a whoosh. "Well, I cannot say I do not understand his anger. We have all been angry with Loki at one point or another. But I am slightly confused as to why it took so long. Surely, he and Vivian both knew of Loki's past long before now."

Frigga adjusted her skirt. "Of course. But as I said, objective truth and perceived truth are entirely different. Until now, Alvin and Vivian's knowledge of Loki's past was observed from a distance. Now, it has come back to haunt them all—especially Grace."

"But Grace does not appear angry with Loki."

"You misunderstand," she replied. "She is their child. They fear for her, and for Amy—as well as for the unborn grandchild they, and we, have yet to meet."

"Alvin blames Loki for this—this situation," he mused. "Then why is Vivian angry with Alvin?"

"Ah, well, recall how differently your father and I reacted to Asti's passing."

He knew her failure to elaborate was a way to make him parse things on his own. She believed strongly in requiring others to seek knowledge rather than simply passing it to them. After a few moments, he thought perhaps he understood. Loki had once said that Vivian seemed to take pity on him quite frequently, defending him to Grace when she was cross with him. "She believes Alvin is wrong for feeling anger toward Loki."

"Alvin, I think, is scared for his family, and is directing that anger toward Loki. But Vivian believes that Loki cannot and should not be held responsible for the actions of others, even if he participated in furthering those actions at one time."

"I must admit," Thor sighed, "that I am not entirely sure with whom I agree."

"You needn't choose. There is a world of gray between the white and black of right and wrong. They, too, will eventually see that."

When Thor was a child, he often looked to his father as a symbol and model of strength. But having spent this time with his mother, he was suddenly struck by the idea that perhaps the reason his father had always seemed so strong was because Frigga had shown him, in the early days of their marriage, what true strength was.

It was all he could do to pray that Loki, as their mother's favorite, had learned the same from her.

"I cannot believe we are still arguing about this," Loki said in frustration. "I am telling you for the last time, he will be impervious to your weapons!"

"All due respect, but if you recall, I managed to destroy a few of those Leviathans with my weapons. And that was several versions ago. I've upgraded."

It had been almost a month from their arrival at the Avengers compound, and Loki was unimaginably annoyed with Tony for his continued arrogance—an arrogance that surpassed even Loki's. The rest of the team had eventually come to believe and even rely on him for information about Thanos, the Chitauri, and, of course, the Frost Giants. But Tony seemed to still distrust Loki, or else was so convinced of his own brilliance that he believed he knew better.

"Stark—Tony—I can assure you, the Mad Titan has not survived so long by accident. Your earthly weapons are no match for him."

"Did you miss what I just said? I'm pretty sure it was earthly weapons that took out his entire army!"

"Exactly my point," Loki said. "His army. Not him. He did not enter battle himself because he knew it was not worth his precious time. He cared little, because to him, this planet does not merit effort. That is why he was willing to give it to me."

"All right, so, that just means he's underestimating us. Kinda like someone else I know who wanted to take over an entire planet."

It wasn't the first time Tony had made such a comment, and Loki knew it wouldn't be the last. "If you are attempting to provoke me, it won't work. I have extensive experience with the behavior and reasoning skills of toddlers."

Before Tony could respond, Steve came barreling into the room, Thor following closely behind. They had just returned from the second of their biweekly trips to Asgard. Tony had, of course, been offended at the notion that Steve was a more appropriate choice for space travel, arguing that he had actually been to space. But Thor, in a move rivaling Loki's manipulative capabilities, reminded Tony that his genius was needed in the lab, developing technology that might offer some advantage in any eventual battle. Unfortunately, that also allowed Tony's hubris to grow.

"Nothing on Heimdall's radar," Steve said.

"And what of the Lawsons?" Loki asked, as he always did, just as much for himself as for Grace.

"They send their best wishes, and their continued hope that they can return to Earth soon," Thor said. It was only partially a lie, he reasoned; they did send their best, but on Al's part, those wishes were for Grace and Amy alone. His anger at Loki had not abated, despite the passage of time. Thor could only hope that, by the time they were reunited with their family, it would.

"So what have you got?" Steve asked.

Loki sighed. "Aside from our repeated disagreement regarding the use of human technology against Thanos himself—"

"Once again, I blew up his army—"

"—I am even more convinced that he is hunting the Infinity Stones," Loki finished, as sharply as the look he shot Tony.

Steve raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think that after all this time?"

"Exactly that," Loki replied. "The longer he delays attack, the more I believe he is using Jotunheim as a base of operations, as it were. He believes this will trigger Odin into action, at which time he can, while Asgard's army is preoccupied, seek out the Tesseract."

Tony looked to Thor. "What's Dad think?"

"Shocking though it may be, Father is of a similar mind, although I am not certain that he believes Thanos is merely using Jotunheim as a base from which to operate. He still believes the Jotuns long for vengeance."

"So either he's holding Jotunheim hostage under some sort of cover of darkness, hoping it'll trigger an intergalactic search for weapons of mass destruction," Tony said, "or he's in league with Jotunheim, giving them vengeance in exchange for…what, another army to use against the rest of the universe?"

Loki shook his head emphatically. "Thanos learns from his errors. He made such a deal with me, and it only cost him. He will not do so again. It is much more likely that he has used the decimation of their planet against them. If they fight for him, it will be because to do anything else will lead to their extinction."

"Aren't there a bunch of soldiers we could put in charge of the Tesseract and the scepter?"

"You are joking," Loki scoffed. "I have told you of Ebony Maw's powers. It is nothing to him to enchant a few guards to bring Thanos the objects he desires. Which is why I have been thinking…"

Steve eyed him. "What?"

Loki knew what he was about to say would be met with opposition and braced himself. "I believe the Tesseract would be better kept here."

As he suspected, three voices of disagreement rang out, but none louder than Thor's. "You cannot possibly think that the vault is not more well-defended than anywhere on Earth."

"It is not so much that, as the fact that he will not seek it here. At least, not right away. What we do not want is for him to obtain both the Tesseract and the scepter. That is another reason to remove one—if he penetrates the vault, he then has access to both."

The others looked at each other uncertainly. "Okay, let's say we do this," Steve began. "What does it gain us? If he gets into the vault and doesn't find it, won't his next stop be here?"

"Perhaps, but it buys time. His army will need to regroup, and perhaps will be depleted enough that we can defeat them. But we need to make it as difficult as possible for him to obtain it."

"So why don't we just bring the scepter back here instead?" Tony asked. "Why bring the thing we know he wants most? He used you to try to get the Tesseract the last time it was here, and he was willing to give up the scepter to do it, so obviously it doesn't mean that much to him."

"As I said, he believes the Tesseract to be on Asgard—and for the moment, he is right. Once he finds what he believes is a path to it, he will no doubt move quickly, but at the least, having it here will delay him."

Steve turned to Thor. "Does anyone else on Asgard know where the Tesseract is? Other than you and Odin?"

Thor shook his head. "Odin placed it in the vault himself, in a place known only to him. Not even I know where it is. Therefore, it is unguarded, but safe all the same."

"Well, then, great," Tony said, clapping his hands. "No need to bring back any space relics. Can we get back to work now?"

Something passed over Loki's face and Thor held a hand up. "Brother? What is it?"

Loki's chest felt heavy, like Mjolnir rested on it. He hadn't wanted to bring this up at that moment, but it seemed unavoidable. "There is another reason—something I have not discussed with anyone as yet, but which, I suppose, must be addressed soon."

"Now's as good a time as any," Steve said.

"Well, as you all know, Grace is due to have the baby soon. And Odin made clear that it should—or, more correctly, must—be born in Asgard."

"Loki, Father's command was issued before this…complication. Certainly, he will understand—"

"I believe he already understood. I believe he understood the danger this child might be in when he gave the command."

"What? Why would—"

"Why does Odin do or say anything? Mother once said it: there is always a purpose to everything he does. I do not believe he knew about Thanos. But he must have sensed some level of danger, some risk. I no longer care what the reason is. I only know that I agree with him."

Steve gaped at him. "You just got done telling us Asgard isn't safe for the Tesseract, but now you want to move your family there?"

"I know how it sounds, and were there any other path, I would take it. But," he continued, absently twirling a pencil on the table, "if nothing else, the very nature of her pregnancy and of the child may require more care than she can be afforded here."

"We hired the best medical team available," Tony said. "Believe me, I know. I wrote the check."

"I have no doubt, but, with all due respect, I suspect they are not quite as prepared for the possible complications of delivering a child that is half-mortal, half-god as would be the healers of Asgard. They have been preparing since before we were brought here, have they not?" he asked Thor. He was met with silence, which he took to mean he was right. "I realize the hope was that the…predicament in which we find ourselves would have been resolved by now, and that since it has not, preparations have been made by your people"—he looked at Tony—"for Grace to deliver here. But can any of you tell me that you truly believe that her health, and that of my child, are better protected here than in Asgard?"

Tony, Thor, and Steve glanced around, each of them waiting for one of the others to make a counterargument. Realizing no one else was going to, Steve asked, "Have you talked with Grace about all of this yet?"

Loki stared at him blankly. "As of now, I have continued to assure her that there is no need to go to Asgard, but—"

"I think what he means is," Tony said, "does your soon-to-be-wife know about your ex-boss' plans? Relationships are all about honestly, after all, and—"

Unsurprisingly, Steve fixed Tony with a warning glare, but even Loki knew the question wasn't exactly out of line. He also knew they wouldn't like his answer any more than they had liked his suggestion to move the Tesseract back to Earth. "Not entirely," he finally said.

"It matters not what Grace knows," Thor said. "In fact, it may be better that she knows as little as possible. What does matter is that we have to make a decision as to whether to move the Tesseract here and Grace to Asgard."

"Well, I vote no," Tony said, "but we should probably run this up the flagpole with Banner and Big Red."

"And perhaps S.H.I.E.L.D.," Thor added.

"Yeah, them, I don't care so much about."

Thor and Tony turned to Steve, expecting him to agree. But he folded his arms and shook his head. "We do need to get together with Bruce and Wanda about the Tesseract. We should also probably talk to Clint and Nat, too." Then, he fixed his gaze on Loki. "But whether or not Grace goes to Asgard is entirely up to the two of you."

Loki swallowed hard. He hadn't quite expected to be given deference so quickly. What he did not know was that, of all the Avengers, only Steve knew intimately the feeling of losing the only woman he had ever loved. By extension, he knew how difficult it was for Loki to be in the position of weighing not what was best for Grace and their child, but what was the least dangerous.

Steve continued to hold Loki's eyes with his own. He, more than anyone else, knew that making a life-or-death decision was surprisingly easy when the life or death was your own. It was infinitely harder when it involved someone you loved enough to die for. And he could also see that Loki was clearly bearing the weight of that burden. "You should go talk to her," he said. "And I think you should tell her everything."

Sighing, Loki agreed. "I dread what she will say when I do."

"She's going to find out eventually. It's better that it happens now. This decision affects her too. She needs all the variables to do the equation."

Tony smirked. "Listen to him, talking about variables and equations. I feel like a proud papa."

It was then that Wanda shot through the door like an arrow from Barton's quiver. Her cheeks were flushed as though she had just run a mile, and she nearly toppled forward as she came to a stop right in front of Loki.

"Wanda? What's wrong?" Tony asked, and the use of her name instead of some weird, invented moniker was a signal of his concern.

"It's—Grace—" she panted, and immediately Loki knew what was happening.

"Oh my God." Before any of them could respond—or react at all, for that matter—he had run out of the room as quickly as Wanda had entered it.

"What the—" Steve began.

"She's in labor," Wanda finished.

"But the baby isn't due for another two weeks!"

"Well, it is half Frost Giant," Tony replied. "It probably would rather be a popsicle in the freezer than a bun in the oven."

"Grace!" Loki shouted, very nearly sliding across the floor in his mad dash into their room. "Darling, how are you feeling?"

She was laying on the bed, Bruce in a chair next to her, holding her hand. She didn't look at all like Loki imagined a woman in the early stages of childbirth would; in fact, she appeared much calmer than he felt. "I'm fine, Loki," she said. "My back hurts, but that's no different from the last few months. The contractions are only about fifteen minutes apart, and they're really short. And since I'm having a C-section, we don't have to worry about that so much. Bruce already called the doctor, and Amy is with Phil."

Bruce ducked his head nervously and got to his feet. "He should be here soon, and they've already prepped the delivery room. And on that note," he said, turning his attention back to Grace, "I'm gonna get out of here. I'd say good luck, but I feel like luck isn't something that's at play here."

Grace laughed. "Yeah, a more appropriate statement would be, 'I hope it's over quickly.'"

He turned around and said in his best approximation of a comforting voice, "I personally vetted this doctor. You're in good hands." Then he clapped Loki on the shoulder and made his way out. But Loki barely noticed. He was beginning to panic. He had just been trying to convince the others that Grace should have the baby on Asgard—for reasons he had yet to explain to her—and now it seemed the decision had been made for him. "If we can take our time—if there truly is no rush—perhaps it is not too late to go to Asgard."

Grace's eyes widened slightly. "Why would we need to go to Asgard?" she asked. "All along you've said we didn't need to."

"I—I'm concerned about the complications that may arise," he said, "given that the child isn't due for another two weeks. What if he is not fully developed? What if he—"

"Loki, honey, calm down," she said, her voice low and even. "Babies come early all the time. And since this one is more developed than your average preemie, it'll probably be even safer. Besides, I had a C-section with Amy. This shouldn't be any different."

Grace had long ago explained the technicalities of this procedure to him, but it hadn't exactly comforted him. Regardless of how much she downplayed it, it was still surgery from which she would need recovery time and, although he knew he should be more concerned with the physical complications, his mind couldn't help but go back to the conversation he'd just been having with the others. He believed Grace, Amy, and the baby would all be safer in Asgard, but with this new development, moving her now would be impossible. Before he had time to contemplate anything further, there was a knock at the door.

"Grace?" said a woman wearing blue hospital scrubs and bright pink sneakers. Grace immediately liked her. "I'm here to take you to the delivery room."

As the woman approached with a wheelchair, Grace could see her nametag. "Aimee," she recited as Loki helped her into the chair. "That'll be easy to remember."

"Oh yeah? Why's that?" Aimee asked as she turned the chair to exit the room.

"Our daughter's name is Amy, but it's spelled with a y."

Aimee smiled. "I used to get so mad about having to correct the spelling. That's why I'm glad I chose a career involving a nametag."

Loki was unnerved by how casual both women seemed. Grace must have sensed this, because she reached over her shoulder and took his hand as he walked beside her. Even though her hand was far smaller than his, he felt as though her grip was tighter. And somehow, as they walked along in easy silence, he was comforted by her touch in a way he never had been before. Not that he hadn't felt comfort from physical contact with her before, of course; he would never forget the night she came into his bedroom after he'd had that terrible nightmare. She had wiped the sweat from his brow and run her hands up and down his arms before she crawled into bed to lay beside him. She hadn't known it then—and probably still didn't—but those small gestures had been the first thing to bring him comfort in centuries. But even that did not compare to the feeling he had now. This was more than comfort. It was like she was transmitting serenity from her mind to his through their joined hands.

Then, the thought occurred to him that perhaps the difference between the two situations was that there now existed half of each of them inside her. Maybe the feeling he had now was from the life their love had created, nurtured directly under Grace's heart.

Suddenly, she winced and drew in a sharp breath, almost like a hiss. He had read enough to know what she was feeling was called a contraction, and that they ranged from mildly annoying to excruciatingly painful. Thankfully, from what he could tell, this one fell on the mildly annoying end of the spectrum. Even still, he asked if she was okay.

"If you ask me that every time I have a contraction," she replied, "you're going to end up losing your voice before this kid is out."

He felt slightly embarrassed, but Aimee smiled kindly at him. "Lemme guess. First time dad?"

"Not exactly," he replied. "It is the first time I've witnessed childbirth, however."

"Yep, that explains it."

"I did read plenty of books on the subject," he said, with a hint of pride. "So at least I know what to expect."

Aimee and Grace shot each other a look that Loki couldn't quite place, a combination of amusement and pity. "Oh, honey," Grace said, "as much as I love you for educating yourself…there are some things that no amount of reading will prepare you for."

They turned a corner stopped in front of a set of solid, white double doors. Aimee swiped her I.D. badge at a panel on the wall. After a loud, happy-sounding beep, they swung open, and Grace instantly marveled at her surroundings. If she hadn't known better, she'd have thought they had been transported to New York Presbyterian. She made a mental note to ask Tony how he'd managed to build this in a month. Before she knew it, they had stopped outside another set of double doors on the left side of the hall. A sign above them read, "Operating Room."

Aimee put the brake on the wheelchair and asked, "Are you ready?"

Grace glanced up at Loki, whose face was impassive as he stared at the doors. But she knew him too well. "Are you ready?" she asked him.

"I don't think 'ready' is the word," he replied, a slight quake in his voice.

Sensing that the two needed a moment alone, Aimee cleared her throat. "I'm going to go make sure they're all set in there. I'll be back in five." With that, she disappeared into the operating room, breaking Loki's focus on the doors.

After a beat, Grace folded her hands on top of her stomach and said, "Okay. Tell me."

He feigned ignorance. "Tell you?"

"For the God of Lies, that was not your best effort," she said, incredulity dripping from the words.

He chuckled. "Either I am losing my touch, or you know me too well." There was a pause, and then he said, "What if the child—I—despite what we were told, what if he is born—"

She grabbed his hand again and squeezed it, for a second realizing that if she had decided to give birth the natural way, he would probably be the only father in history whose hand didn't ache afterward. "Let's not worry about that until we have to. And if all else fails, we can ask Odin what he did with you."

"Actually, I have come to believe it was my doing that I look—well, like this," he said, gesturing to his face. "I think perhaps I wanted to be accepted, even if unconsciously."

"And this child is going to be accepted, no matter what. But first, we need to get him here."

Suddenly, he dropped to one knee in front of her, just as he had when he proposed. His eyes were full of the same trepidation, but she knew this time it came from more than nerves. For a full ten seconds, he simply looked at her. Just as she was about to ask whether they should call for Aimee to take them inside, he said, "I need to tell you something."

Her eyebrows raised slightly. "I don't like the sound of that."

He shook his head emphatically. "No, it isn't—it's just—" Words seemed to be failing him, which was always a frustrating, if infrequent, occurrence. He drew in a deep breath to steady himself, looking into her eyes again. "I need you to know that I love you more now than I ever have. You have been stronger through this ordeal than you should ever have had to be. Not many women would take such an upheaval as well as you have. And this is to say nothing of the physical effects of having carried our child."

She took a moment to appreciate his words, which brought a swell of emotion that caused a lump in her throat. "Well, the latter is easy once you've already done it. And this time, I won't be alone. As for the first part…well, we're parents. We do whatever is necessary to protect our kids, even when it's inconvenient or scary or just plain weird."

"I know," he said, "but all that aside, I need you to hear me when I say that you are the most formidable, beautiful, charitable, and courageous woman I have ever known. You are irreplaceable to me. I could never have asked for anyone better to be the mother of my children. I love you. Eternally."

She gave him the same penetrating stare he had given her, and he found himself unsettled. He started to rise to his feet, but she grabbed his forearm. "I love you too, Loki. And because I know that, I know there's something you still aren't telling me."

"I—" He began to panic again. He couldn't possibly share Thanos' true intentions with her at that moment. The only way out was to do what he hated doing with her, what he was nearly incapable of doing with her: lie. But as his mind raced to concoct a story, she smirked. "You read the chapter on pregnancy and birth complications, didn't you?"

He wasn't sure he had heard her correctly. "What?"

"The chapter in that stupid, outdated book you got about pregnancy and childbirth. The one every woman reads, even though all her friends and her doctor tell her not to." While her bright blue eyes held amusement and mischief, her face had begun to look drained, and she shifted in her chair uncomfortably. "Was that it?"

The fact that she had created the story for him made it easier to hide the truth. Covering his deceit with a mask of sheepishness, he said, "Yes. I apologize for being the idiot you warned me not to be."

"Well, you may be a god, but you're also an expectant father. I can't really blame you for being an idiot." She gave his arm a squeeze and winced again. "Okay, we really need to get in there. It's not an emergency, but I'd rather rely on the drugs to help me than the Norns."

He marveled at her ability to remember things he had said years earlier even as she prepared for what he knew would be—despite the medications administered to numb her—a painful experience. "I shall go and let them know that we are ready."

As soon as he had gone, Grace felt a familiar rush of cold through her abdomen, like ice tumbling inside of her. She patted the place she knew their child rested. "Just a little while longer, I promise. I know you're probably getting a little warm." In an instant, she was taken back to Amy's delivery. The process had taken far too long; after a full day of latent labor, she hadn't dilated enough to begin pushing. So, the doctor administered medication to move things along. Several hours later, she finally went into active labor, but it was as if Amy just didn't want to leave the safety of her mother's body. They eventually had to evict her through a C-section, which was so easy compared to everything else that Grace was almost angry with herself for not opting for one to begin with. This time, there had been no question—she'd have done it even if this baby hadn't been half-demigod. And, judging by the increasing intensity of the contractions, he was looking to escape soon.

Loki came back through the doors with Aimee in tow. "You ready to meet that baby?" she asked.

Grace took Loki's hand again. Loki, the love of her life. The father she'd always wanted for her child, who had become that and so much more. The man she never thought she would meet, who gave her a life she thought trauma had cost her. She only hoped she could give him the same.

"So ready," she replied.

"Good. Dad, you wanna wheel her in?"

Loki had long considered himself a father, but it always gave him a sense of validation when others referred to him as such. He didn't know when, but it had somehow become his favorite title. He went behind the wheelchair and began to push her past the doors, which Aimee was holding open. She dreaded the thought of getting up from the chair to get onto the operating table. "I can't even waddle anymore," she said to herself. "What kind of penguin am I?"

He leaned down and kissed the top of her head. Before helping her up, he put his lips near her ear. "The most beautiful penguin in all the galaxy."