There were many things that Odin didn't particularly like about his now six-month-old, youngest grandson. One was the red eyes, which were far too similar to a Jotun… eyes that threatened to undo all the work he had put into the biggest cover up in Asgardian history.

The other was the teeth.

Unlike other babies, Fenrir's teeth seemed to have come through far too quickly. Tiny, sharp little teeth, and of course he likes to put everything in his mouth – including fingers – and bite. All in all, it wasn't a pleasant experience.

Thor also, wasn't a big fan of the biting, and would often complain to Loki about it…. And Loki would just roll his eyes.

Well, Thor didn't know any healing spells, and his fingers were often so sore that training was a bit difficult, and he would sometimes have to have bandages around them and the Warriors Three and Sif were always ready for a joke or two when that happened.

Leather gloves did the trick, even if Loki did give him a disappointed look at the level of protection he needed to take against their youngest.

"Have the children been fed yet?" Loki asked one evening, as their small family settled down in their quarters.

"The servants would never forget about our children my love."

"Did they remember to bring Fenrir some little chunks of meat?"

With the teeth, it had been decided that, along with milk, Fenrir would also get some meat to gnaw on in the evening.

Personally, Thor just thought it was encouraging the… change, but Loki was determined.

"No…" Thor eventually admitted, wincing as Loki got to his feet and stormed out of the room, muttering angrily under his breath. Almost as soon as he was gone, Fenrir started to whine in his cot, pulling himself into a seated position as the whines turned to wailing.

Thor frowned – as he always did when Fenrir got like this – knowing that the wailing was due to Fenrirs' attachment to Loki. None of the other children had really been like this, unwilling to be parted from Loki for even a couple of minutes.

It also hurts to know that Fenrir seemed to prefer Loki over him, no matter how many times Loki tried to reassure him that babies didn't have favourites.

"Don't cry!" Loki cooed as he strode back into the room, placing the plate of meat on the table, before lifting Fenrir into his arms, "Are you hungry? Look what Mummy has for you!"

Fenrir eagerly gnawed on the meat chunks that were given to him, as Loki turned to Thor, rolling his eyes at the stunned look on the Thunder God's face, "Babies like it when you actually talk to them… no yelling, just talking."

Considering the thought for a moment, Thor nodded in determination, pushing himself to his feet and heading over to his consort and son. "Greetings my son…" he tried, keeping his voice nice and quiet.

Fenrir didn't pause in his feeding, but he did turn his big red eyes over to his Father as Loki smirked at the awkward attempt.

"… Your Mummy thinks you'll like this." Thor continued.

Loki didn't hear much more after that, chest feeling tight as he watched Thor interact with their son. He wasn't sure what made this pregnancy so different from the others, but Thor seemed to have taken Odin's words about 'monster children' to heart.

Fenrir was just another unusual child… and not his perfect heir.

So caught up in worrying about Thor and their children, Loki didn't even realise that that Fenrir had got through all the meat, until he spotted Thor staring at him like he'd said something important and Loki had completely missed it.

Before Thor could repeat himself, Loki leaned in for a kiss… well as much as he can with a baby in his arms.

"I need to go put Fenrir to bed…" he whispered, pushing all negative thoughts to the back of his mind, "… wait for me?"

If Thor was worried about him, that little comment soothed his nerves, as he moved over to the bed and watched fondly as Loki started to hum an old Asgardian lullaby.

"Jeg ber deg følge med

Hvor hen hun måtte dra

Hjelp til så hun kan se

Hjelp meg å gi slipp

Alle mødre vet

Noe barna vet

Så de komme frem

Dit du føger dem

Har hun tro så er hun trygg

Så de kommer frem

Dit du følger dem

Har hun tro så er hun trygg"

Thor listened, a soft smile on his face as he watched his husband pace around the small room, rocking the six-month-old Fenrir in his arms, the red eyes slowly slipping shut.

Once Fenrir was fast asleep and in his cot, Loki turned back to Thor, rolling his eyes as the Thunder God held out his arms.

"So impatient…" he muttered fondly.