The muses and a sugar high smiled on me for this one! And don't worry if you're a fan of Leah/the Avengers- they'll be in the next chapter! Keep up the great reviews, I absolutely love seeing them, and the follows/favorites as well; your support makes this even more worth it.
Carmen rested her chin on her hand, looking down at the open book with half-closed eyes. Go to the library and find a cure for your malady, Loki had ordered her. She'd wanted to tell him that she wasn't diseased and was probably just suffering from morning sickness, but had held her tongue; she wouldn't turn down a chance to get out of her lonely room, and she figured she'd risked enough last night already.
Now that she thought about it, she'd acted quite stupidly, yelling at the king and even going so far as to order him around. It had felt so nice to finally let loose her anger and frustration, though now she realized how close she could've come to making him let loose all of his anger and frustration. However, she didn't regret it. For that one night she had been his equal – and she wasn't sure if she wanted to stop.
Regardless, she had a job to do; it would help her even more than him if she found something to stop her from throwing up. Unfortunately, Asgardian medical texts were even more boring than the ballads and epics that passed as "pleasure reading." She wasn't having much luck either. With a sigh, she pushed away a heavy tome on fertility and birthing charms (it had gone straight from getting pregnant to giving birth, skipping everything in between), adding it to the stack of useless books.
Resolutely, Carmen picked up the next heavy book – The Midgardian Pregnancy – and flipped to the chapter list in the front. The first couple of chapters didn't interest her, all of them being about a pregnancy with a Midgardian father, but the last one, On Unions with Other Races, looked promising. She skipped straight to the section about a Jotun father, feeling hopeful for the first time that day. The way her body would change didn't seem too different than what it would've been if her baby was fully human. To avoid throwing up, it suggested that she avoid strong foods or consuming too much food, which made sense. However, the book warned "procreation between a Jotun and a Midgardian has been oft cited but rarely documented, as the Jotun are not keen to share their ways with Asgardian scholars; therefore it is advised that the reader be aware of the great variety which is possible in the pregnancy. One thing that has not varied in all observed cases is – "
And there the yellowed parchment became blank, the ornate script disappearing off of the page.
Awful realization dawning on her, she turned the next page, and the one after that. The words did not come back until the Afterword.
She knew what this was. There was something in here Loki didn't want her, or any of his concubines, to see, so he'd blanked out the seditious words with a spell. She reread every word she had, trying to figure out what the king was trying to hide, but to no avail. There was something that had happened every time a Jotun got a human girl pregnant, something that was without a doubt unpleasant, but she had no idea what it could be. If something was going to happen to her, to her baby, she needed to know.
Looking around the corner of the library she'd settled in, her eyes lighted upon a scholar. He was copiously taking notes, surrounded by stacks of books, and looked young, awkward, and most importantly, unfamiliar. It was unlikely that he would know her for one of the king's whores, and if he did, well, that was a risk she would have to take. If he didn't, he just might be able to help her.
Rising and taking the book with her, she walked over to his table and tapped his shoulder, offering a shy smile. For men like him, or most men, really, playing the damsel in distress was the surest way to get help. "Excuse me, sir, may I have your assistance?" she said, being sure to use the formal tone that Asgardians favored.
He looked at her with open-mouthed surprise for an instant, before running his fingers through his auburn hair and putting on a rather transparent air of confidence. "Of course, fair maiden. With what can I help you?"
She bit her lip, looking for all the world like someone who was completely helpless and embarrassed, and showed him the book. "There are some pages here that seem to be blank, and I am at a loss on how to restore the text that I know should be there. I was hoping that you might be able to fix this for me. You seemed like a very learned man."
The man preened at her compliment, and nodded, looking down at the book. "I do not see what you speak of, but…yes, there seems to be a blocking spell on these pages specifically, and a very strong one at that, that is preventing you from reading. That is strange, that it affects you but not me."
Was he getting suspicious? She couldn't tell, but she suspected he might be, so she gave him her most winning smile and said, "If you could please remove the spell for me, I would appreciate it ever so much. I wish I could work magic, but it is a gift only the most special few possess."
Her charm erased any of the doubts he might have had in a heartbeat. "I would be happy to do it for you, it is no effort at all, really; it is simply something that takes one skilled in magic to do. Give me one moment…and here you go. Can you read the words now?"
Carmen nodded with delight. The formerly blank page was now filled with words. "I am afraid I must go, but I will see you soon, yes? Thank you so much for your help." She turned away and hurried off to her room before he could say anything. She didn't know Asgard well enough to be confident in her ability to construct a convincing lie, so it was better to flee before he could ask a question she had no answer for.
She curled up on her bed, absently rubbing her belly, and flipped the book back open, reading with lips pursed and brows knit in concentration. "One thing that has not varied in all observed cases is the death of either the mother or the infant." She froze, her heart stopping. No, no, that couldn't be right. She read on rapidly, hoping her eyes had betrayed her. "Despite great advances in both medicine and magic, to date no mother-infant pair has ever survived; either the mother perishes in childbirth, or the infant emerges stillborn."
No. That had to be wrong. Whoever wrote the book was stupid, didn't know what he was talking about, got everything absolutely, ridiculously wrong. There was no way…she couldn't think about it, she refused to, she didn't even know if it was the truth.
Only Loki would know, she realized bitterly. He's the only one I could ask who'd be able to tell me if this is truly the fate of my baby and me. She'd been around the man enough to be able to tell when he was lying, so he wouldn't be able to fool her, either. Until she knew that this was true, she wouldn't let herself think about what it would mean.
A grim determination in her heart, she gathered the large book up in her arms and went out in the hallway towards the king's chambers. "I need to see him," she told the guard shortly. "Tell him…tell him I need his help." As bitter as those words were, she knew acting like she was in charge would get her nowhere with him, and she didn't want to delay finding out the truth any longer than she had to.
The guard came back out, and nodded for her to enter. She stepped inside to see Loki sitting at his desk, writing. She was cautious, but determined. "Your Grace. I need your help. Please."
He made her stand there and wait a few minutes while he finished, her irritation and impatience growing by the second, though she did her best to hide it. His face was blank and without emotion when he rose from his chair and turned to look at her. "What book is it that you are holding?"
"The Midgardian Pregnancy."
"If you wish for me to make the words visible, you come on a fool's quest," he scoffed. "Even more so, you come on a treasonous quest; you know that I do not wish you to –"
"I know what it says!" she blurted out, her voice raw with desperation. "Just tell me if it's true. Tell me if I won't live to see my baby grow up."
His pale face darkened as she spoke. "How did you…yes. It is true. You will die, or the brat will die; there is no other way." His words were harsh, each one hitting her harder than a blow from his hand.
"Oh."
And then it all came crashing down on her, and she sank to the floor, her mouth open and her face flat. Her baby, her precious little baby, the one kind-of-good thing that had happened to her since being brought here...and now she couldn't even have that. How she'd wanted to hold that warm body in her arms, not caring who or what his father was but just loving him because he was hers and he was himself, perfect all on his own. How she'd wanted to hear his first words, watch him learn to walk, and hug him close when he got scared. She'd dreamed of one day seeing her son, her baby, all grown up and twice the man his father was, but now it was doomed to be just that: a dream, and only a dream.
"This is your fault!" she screamed, her eyes wet with the tears she wouldn't shed in front of him. "Why didn't you tell me? Why?"
Not a drop of pity showed in Loki's eyes, though there was plenty of disgust and even…was that guilt? "You were not meant to know," he said stiffly. "The child would have been stillborn, and that would've been the end of this mess."
"You would let your own child die?" Even for him, despite the lack of care he showed for the baby in her belly, that was still hard to believe. "You would let your own child die, just so you could still have me around to bang? That's sick, even for you; I hope you realize that."
She must've been seeing things in her grief and anger, because she could've sworn she saw a glimmer of pain and hurt in his eyes. "I attempt to safeguard your life, and you scorn me for it?" he said, his voice hard. "As little as you are worth, it is still more than a bastard brat."
"That 'bastard brat' is your son! I said it – he's yours too!" Carmen said passionately. "I won't let my baby die, I won't, and you can't let him die either."
"Then you must die."
She immediately saw the problem in that. "You would kill him," she growled. "No sooner would the life leave my body than he would lose his own. There has to be a way; you're supposed to be the greatest sorcerer the realms have ever seen, I know you must know something."
"There. Is. Nothing," he said through gritted teeth, shaking his head as he glared at her. "Why are you so eager to risk yourself for this child?"
"Love."
"But it hardly exists, and you have never seen it nor heard it," he said, clearly frustrated. "How can you love that which you do not know?"
"I do know him," she said fiercely. "I know that he is mine; mine to love, and mine to protect. I am his mother."
When she said mother, she saw something visibly change in him; she could see the guilt and regret with tinges of sorrow etched on his face, and for a second, for just a single second, she pitied him. He put himself back together rapidly, though not as completely as usual. Each word he spoke was carefully measured. "There…may be a way. But you will have to search for it, on your own, and you will do whatever must be done yourself. You will get no help from me."
She could just about cry with joy. "I will read every single book in that library a thousand times if it gets me my son," she vowed. "No force in this realm could stop me from seeing him."