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VVVVV

CHAPTER TWO

Flying snow. Crunching ice beneath his feet.

Howling wind.

He walked forward across a foggy landscape, but he didn't know his direction. His breathing rasped in his ears.

Gray, snow-covered mountains. A looming sky.

He paused, his breath rattling…

And happened to glance down.

He froze.

Then, he jerked his hand up, and stared at it.

His skin had flooded with color—a blue and icy as the land around him, all the way down to his bone.

He held both hands up, his chest staggering.

Both bare arms looked the same.

He stumbled backward, horror flaring through him—

His eyes flew open.

Enclosed darkness. Some warmth. A low fire burned in its place.

But he could see everything.

Everything—every detail and feature of the furniture, the blankets, the headboard, the curtains, as a cat or a wolf could in the complete darkness.

He sucked in his breath and yanked his hand out from beneath the covers.

Stared at his skin.

Blue.

Dark, deep blue, to the marrow.

He quickly looked down at Jane—

She was awake—pale as the moon, and shivering violently.

"Oh, oh, oh!" Loki twitched back from her, closing his hand to a fist and shaking himself. He forced heat back into his body, biting down on the inside of his cheek. Panting, he watched the sapphire slowly recede from his hands. He reached up and felt his face—

Warmth replied.

"Oh, Jane, Jane…" he gasped, pressing a hand to her forehead and sending magic throbbing into her, heating her from the inside out.

"Loki…" she chattered. "Loki I'm…I'm having contractions."

"What?" he jumped.

"I'm…" She gulped. "I'm going into labor. I'm…I'm going to have the baby. Get me…You've got to get me to Eir. Right…Right now."

For one, awful moment, he just stared at her.

Thunder shuddered against the walls of the palace. Lightning flashed through the drapes.

Loki threw himself to the right, off of the bed, and shoved the curtains out of the way. He charged around the bed, flung her curtains back, then tossed the blankets off of her.

"Come, put your arm around me," he instructed, bending down.

"Okay…" she winced, wrapping her arm around his neck. He slid his arms underneath her and easily hefted her up, cradling her. Then, he turned and headed to the door.

He lifted his chin. The door swung open. He marched out into the dark hall.

Torches, sensing his motion, blazed to life, lighting the golden hall.

A gleaming, armored guard directly across snapped to attention.

"Danehall, go wake the king and queen, my parents and my other brother, and tell them to come to the Healing Rooms," Loki ordered. "Quickly!"

"Yes, your highness," the guard slapped a fist to his heart, then darted off. Loki turned the other direction and trotted smoothly down the corridor, fighting to keep his heartbeat from deafening him.

Jane's fingers clenched down on his collar.

"Mhm—Mhm—Mhm…" she grunted urgently—he heard her teeth grind, felt her whole body tense.

"Almost there, almost there…"

"No, we're not," she gritted. "It's halfway across the palace…"

Thunder grumbled once more, shivering uneasily against the battlements outside, flashing into the hallway via the windows of the balconies.

Loki hurried down staircases and wound through corridors, all the while hearing the palace begin to awaken. Lights flickered to life—muttered exclamations and hurried commands issued from the upper levels, echoing up and down. Guards began darting back and forth. Courtiers stepped out of their chambers, wrapping dressing gowns around themselves and frowning to each other.

Finally, Loki strode down the long hallway toward the golden door bearing a great, carven likeness of Ygdrasil. Before he could order it to open by magic—

The entrance swung open, and the beautiful matron healer, Eir—clothed in white, and flawless and ready—held it open for him.

"Bring her right in, yes, that's it," she smiled.

"Hello, Eir," Jane reached out a hand to her.

"Hello, darling!" Eir beamed, gripping her fingers. "Are we going to have a baby today?"

"I hope so!" Jane gasped. Eir led them further into the circular, domed, softly-lit marble room. All of the beds had been cleared away, save for one in the center that was wide enough for three people to lie on. It was swathed in red, with fluffy pillows, and to either side sat low white couches. The other healers—including lovely Nanna, Eir's chief apprentice—stood at the ready, their long tresses pinned up and out of the way.

"All right, lay her down here," Eir instructed. Loki bent, and gently eased Jane down onto the mattress. She stiffly sank into it, her face tightening. He slid his arms out from beneath her, and she let out a low groan.

"That's right, settle in for the night," Eir said, adjusting Jane's pillows. She glanced up at Loki. "You too, Your Highness. Because if I know anything about Aesir, babes, it's that they take their time coming into the world."

VVVVV

Loki covered his face with his left hand, set his elbow on his knee and bit the inside of his cheek.

For the thousandth—no, the millionth—time, Jane clenched down on Loki's right hand with all her might and screamed.

Loki shuddered as the sound grated every frayed nerve raw. He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the last trickle of warmth drain out of his head.

Two days.

Two days, he had sat beside her. The first stormy night had dawned into a rain-lashed day—which had dragged on and on before plunging into a tumbling, seething, squalling night. And with every escalation of the storm, Jane's struggle had embittered. She had turned white as snow, with dark circles under her pretty eyes. She sweat liquid ice, her skin shivered—her body groaned and heaved and strained. Eir, Nanna and the other healers worked tirelessly, encouraging and instructing Jane at every moment that she needed it, urging her to breathe correctly, to focus and keep trying.

Loki could do nothing but sit like a stone, now. He had tried eagerly to comfort her, to talk to her, but after the first day and night, he had run utterly dry of words. Worse, Eir had forbidden him to use any kind of magic to soothe her. Instead, Eir used her own brands of magic and potions to act as pain-suppressants and relaxants.

But now, it had come to the second afternoon. No sun had shown its face. And the twilight had begun to creep into the corners of the room.

The contraction released Jane's body.

She let out a long, low breath.

Her eyelids fluttered.

Closed.

Her hand loosed on Loki's fingers.

Loki lifted his head. Frowned at her.

Eir went still.

"Something…" Eir murmured.

"What?" Loki said hoarsely. "What, what?"

Eir did not answer. She pressed her hand down on Jane's swollen belly.

Stayed silent for a long moment.

Loki held his breath.

Eir looked up at him.

"Go, your Highness."

"What?" Loki sat up straight. His back panged.

"I must conference with my healers. I need you to leave the room."

"I'm not going anywhere," Loki snapped.

"You will do as I command," Eir shot back.

"I am a prince of Asgard—"

"And I am the ruler of this chamber," Eir cut him off, eyes blazing. "Not even the All Father can overrule me in here. Now go."

Loki stared at her, heart hammering.

"You would not dare to issue commands to me," he hissed.

"Then I will get someone who can," Eir replied. "Nanna—fetch the king."

"Yes, madam." The young woman strode past Loki toward the doors. Loki's eyes locked on Eir's.

"You cannot take me from my wife," Loki whispered. "You cannot. I beg you, don't—"

"I may let you back in in a few minutes," Eir replied, still unmoving. "Until then—"

The door swung open. Heavy footsteps entered.

"Thor…" Loki growled in warning, lowering his head and bracing his shoulders for a fight.

"Brother," Thor answered…

And instead of grabbing him by the arms—which would have made Loki whirl and strike him in the face…

Thor stepped around Loki, and laid his broad, warm right hand down on top of Loki's, which grasped Jane's.

Loki gasped. His eyes stung, and his head came up.

Thor bent next to him, disheveled and wearing his night clothes. His hair hung loose, and he looked pale and drawn.

"You look terrible," Loki rasped. Thor's blue eyes met Loki's gaze. He half smiled.

"You are not the only one who has not been sleeping."

Loki swallowed hard, feeling sick.

"Come," Thor said gently. "Come have a drink with us."

"I don't need anything," Loki looked back to Jane. Her brow had furrowed distantly.

"You forget to eat when you're distressed," Thor reminded him. "And you cannot afford to weaken right now. She needs you to be strong."

Loki's jaw clenched.

"Come," Thor leaned closer and spoke in his ear. "Mother is worried for you. She has ordered food set out for you to eat." Thor rested his other hand on Loki's right shoulder. "It would set her at ease if you would try."

Loki sucked in a deep breath. Glanced up at his brother's face.

Nodded.

He stood up. Tried not to wince—every muscle complained. He leaned over Jane, and kissed her forehead. Her skin felt cold beneath his lips.

"I love you," he breathed, closing his eyes. "I shan't be long."

Loki glanced up at Eir. The healing woman's regard softened, and she gave him a smile.

"I'll take good care of her, your highness," she promised. Loki bit back a threat, realizing it would be the very last thing he ought to say. He nodded, then turned to Thor. Thor put an arm around Loki's shoulders, and together they left the healing rooms—though Loki's heart hurt him worse with every step he took away from her side.

VVVVV

Loki sat back into his tall, wooden chair draped in furs. All of his bones ached. Just to his right, in the wide, stone-carved hearth, a fire blazed, warming him, and distancing him from the storm that raged outside. The rest of the great hall stood in darkness. Thor had gone to check on his wife, promising he would be back in a moment.

He turned his chair toward the fire, then rested his left elbow on the edge of a long, polished feasting table, at the head of which he sat. His plate of bread, fruit and chicken sat half-finished next to his hand.

His stomach twisted itself into its fourteenth knot. He glared at his goblet, took hold of it, and drank the mead to the dregs.

"You've gotta be careful with that stuff," a quiet tenor voice warned from the far end of the table. "I tried to drink it once like that—knocked me out."

Loki lifted his head, and caught sight of exactly who he thought it was.

Steven, wearing fine blue-and-gold garments befitting an Aesir courtier—clothing that suited him far better than the spangled jumpsuit—stood with arms casually folded. His gold hair had not been combed, his handsome features softened more than usual in this light, and his blue eyes—much like Thor's—caught the glimmer of the fire.

Loki rolled his eyes, and smirked.

"You don't have much experience, little one."

Steve answered the crooked smile, and stepped toward him. He glanced into the fire, his eyebrows coming together.

"How's Jane doing?"

Loki cleared his throat and set the goblet down with a clack.

"As everyone was expecting."

"What was everyone expecting?" Steve asked, studying him.

Loki shook his head, his gaze unfocusing.

"They were expecting to have no idea."

"What—did you always think there would be problems?" Steve wondered.

Loki snorted.

"I am…as you might say…not from around here," he glanced darkly up at Steve. "No matter what I look like. The mixing of our two bloods could not possibly bring about anything familiar."

Steven considered this, then eased down to sit on the rug in front of the fire, near Loki's feet.

Loki's thoughts paused.

Balder had used to sit just there.

On long, rainy nights in his youth, when Loki could not sleep because of the thunder, he had come down to read a book by the firelight. And somehow, little Balder had always known where to find him, and would come and sit with him. Sometimes, the two brothers hadn't exchanged a single word, or even a glance. But the mere shadow of him had brought Loki comfort.

That is, until Balder began having visions—visions which tortured him into madness and death.

Loki blamed it on his weariness—and the terrible strain every nerve had been under for hours upon hours—but a tear suddenly blinked free, and trailed down his face. Quickly, he reached up and dashed it away. Steven did not notice.

Or rather, he acted as if he did not.

"So…" Steven said, sitting back on his hands. "You already know it's a girl."

"Yes," Loki answered roughly, swallowing.

"Aurora, right?"

"Yes."

"Pretty name," Steven decided, studying the carvings above the mantel. "So, what are you looking forward to most about being a dad?"

Loki frowned.

"What…?"

Steven glanced over his shoulder at him, and smiled.

"What are you looking forward to most? I mean, you know it's a girl, so…Is there something you're excited to teach her? Show her? Someplace you'd like to take her? Or a story you'd like her to hear?"

Loki listened…

And his whole being filled with ice. His heart started to pound wildly, and he closed his hands to fists.

"Steven," he rasped, giving a hurried, desperate glance at the door to make certain Thor was not about to come in.

"What?" Steven frowned, sitting up and regarding him.

"Steven, I…I am terrified," Loki whispered. He swallowed again. "I…My own…My own father abandoned me to die. And the father who took me in…" He squeezed his fists, looking anywhere but at the other man. "He lied to me about what I was for most of my life, and favored Thor, and I have never…I have never felt…" He blinked back more tears, filling with scalding shame. He closed his eyes, and spoke firmly. "I never felt that I had any idea how to be a good father." He opened his eyes, and gazed at Steve. "No one ever showed me how."

Steve watched him for a moment, then shrugged.

"I don't think anybody really knows. Really," he said. "I've had friends who got married and had kids and they all said the same thing: they were scared out of their minds."

"They were?" Loki frowned, his eyes clearing. Steve nodded.

"Yeah. They had no idea what they were doing. But luckily, a lot of them had their moms and dads and aunts and uncles and brothers and sisters and friends and everybody to help them when they needed it. I mean, grandmas are the best—they already know everything and they want to be around the kid all the time. And grandpas tend to be a lot easier on their grandkids than they were on their own kids."

"They are?" Loki looked at him sideways. "I…have to confess, I didn't know my grandfather…er, Thor's grandfather…very well. He died when I was fairly young."

"Yeah, that's what I've seen, anyway," Steven assured him. "And I dunno…I'm no expert, obviously, but I think…" He sighed, frowning thoughtfully into the fire. "I think if you put the kid first—ahead of everything you might want or need…You'll be fine. And my dad said once: 'A little girl needs to know that she's beautiful. A little boy needs to know that he's capable.' That's it."

"That's it?" Loki said flatly. Steven shrugged.

"Pretty simple. I like it," he declared. "Easy to remember."

Loki almost smiled. Steve shot him a smile, then raised his eyebrows to give him a pointed look.

"It'll be okay, Brother. Got it?"

Loki managed a nod.

"Good." Steve let out a long sigh. "She'd better hurry up, though. That little gal is wearing everybody out."

"Yes," Loki said quietly, closing his fists again. "Yes, she is."

To be continued…

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