Lift the Veil

by jarethsdragon

I know what you seek. You want to know if Loki ever has a happy ending...

5. The Brothers

So the week began. Odin lectured his sons for hours on protocol and politics and theory and strategy. He had new armor made for them both as well as providing them both rings of fine gold. He even managed to arrange for a brief hunting trip for all three of them so that they could be father and sons and brothers again. But his eye was weary and rimmed with red and his hands shook somewhat in weariness. Loki supposed that it was only a matter of time before the Odinsleep took him.

There were two days left and they all sat in the study together, looking at the collection of maps and books strewn everywhere. Odin smiled sadly at the cup of water in his hand and then looked at both of them. Thor straightened—it seemed that every time that the Allfather had moved, there was another lecture or bit of advice to be attended to. Loki looked at the great map in front of him and then up at the Allfather.

"I'm proud to call you both my sons," Odin said thoughtfully. "I cannot say how proud I am. On the one hand, I have you, Thor, who will defend Asgard and the Realm Eternal with might and valor. And on the other hand, I have you, Loki, who will ever guard against the enemies unseen and triumph in the bloodless battles of politics and intrigue." He considered his cup again and laughed without mirth. "By Bor's beard I wish that I could have found a way to divide the throne into portions so that you both would have a share."

Thor looked at Loki—blue eyes meeting cool emerald ones. With a heavy swallow he grinned in a lopsided fashion. "I would wish that we could ever remain brothers as well." He stared down, unable to meet the gaze of either his brother or his father. "I have been blessed—and to acknowledge my blessing I want to-"

A pounding echoed on the door and they heard Sif's hoarse voice screeching Loki's name. Thor's eyes went wide as he bounded to the door with Loki only a breath behind him. Thor wrenched open the door and saw Sif gasping for breath on the other side.

Sif nodded briefly at him, gasping for breath. She didn't even acknowledge Odin with more than a glance, if that much. "Loki—you must come to the audience chamber-"

"Are we under siege?" demanded Thor.

"She is," Sif stammered, unable to do more than grab Loki's arm. "You must come quickly."

Loki's eyes went wide and he grabbed Sif's elbow. "Take me to her," he growled softly. "Tell me all along the way."

Sif let out a wail. "It was—it got out of control." She ran along beside Loki, panting and puffing.

"What got out of control?!" demanded Odin as they all ran.

"The audiences," Sif panted. "They got out of control..."

Loki released her and vanished. Thor caught her and continued to hurry to the audience chamber. "What happened, Sif?"

"I...I had left to go train," she stammered. "It was only for an hour and Sigyn had things well in hand and then one of the guards came to fetch me. At first it was only a complaint—that Loki had bespelled someone some months ago. Sigyn had frowned and offered apologies but said that she could offer little recompense. It seemed to be resolved that she would take him to task. Then another came forward-"

"Sif, what happened?" Thor bellowed.

"When I got there, she was surrounded by people who all claimed that Loki had done them ill," Sif panted. "All of them demanded recompense and apologies..." Odin grunted angrily. "The guards had drawn close to her, but she was trying to maintain control and address them one at the time."

Thor's eyes widened at the thought and they ran faster. The crowds outside the audience room were milling around angrily and the clerk was shoved against the wall—his papers scattered and his quills broken underfoot. Angry shouts were still heard in the audience chamber and it was only Thor's and Odin's greater height that afforded them any view at all.

Sigyn sat still in the great throne on the dais. The sleeve of her dress seemed frayed or torn, but she seemed to be largely unharmed physically. Loki appeared and stood—by appearances in his battle armor and with his staff—behind her, listening. The guards were spread at the foot of the dais, unsettled and precariously close to drawing weapons. Sif gasped and reached for her weapon as another throng surged forward. Thor gestured angrily and tried to move around the crowd.

The two or three who were forward now glared at Loki. "He is the one who's spell cost me dearly. He should pay for his malice."

Sigyn's voice was shaky, but echoed nonetheless. "Can you prove that it was his spell and that it was done with malice?"

Another voice shouted. "Who else would it be?" Louder voices—male and female—agreed. "Who else is known as a God of Mischief?"

"Silence!" Odin called and suddenly all eyes turned towards him. The voices were silent and a thrum of fear or relief or both shot through the air. "This is not how we conduct ourselves in Asgard."

Thor nodded grimly. "I agree," he said firmly. "Let the lady have her say."

Sigyn took a shaky breath. "As to who else has magic-" She drew in a deep breath. "I do." She let a small fizzle of fear surge through her and fireworks erupted. She had grown better at the timing and firing of her magic—although it still eluded her how to call, say, lightning versus fire or ice. Thankfully, no one had been harmed as she had lingered in Loki's rooms, practicing. "I imagine that there are others as well." Her fingers tightened around the arm of the chair. "Who here has brought complaint to the king? Who here has not had justice done?"

There were angry grumbles but no one came forward until a scrawny fellow stepped out. "I did not bring my complaints because Loki was a prince." He frowned. "I...I didn't think a few chickens were worth it."

Loki shot a glare at the man, but it was Sigyn who spoke. "Has anyone here considered what good Loki has done?" The peasants gaped at her as the room went silent. "I have sworn fidelity and honor to Prince Loki—I will not break that vow. But while I hear of many vague complaints, I hear few praises and I hear even less concrete details. Was it not Loki that secured the wall around Asgard? Loki who...brought forth Sleipnir? Loki who first wove nets for fishing and trapping?"

"Loki almost destroyed Mjolnir!" a voice shouted.

"How? Who was there?" Sigyn fired back. "Why would Loki do such a thing when it is to his benefit—indeed, to all of our benefit for Mjolnir to be forged?"

The crowd's voices rumbled again angrily. "Everyone knows that he can shapeshift! And the bellows were stopped to get a fly out of the eye of-!"

"Oh?" Sigyn said. "And you are privy to knowing when he has or not? How do I know that you are not my shape-shifted lord if you have such intimate knowledge of his goings and comings?"

More rumbles. Thor glanced at Odin—along with half the crowd—and Odin only watched solemnly. Rumors and gossip had burst into a poisonous bubble that Loki's past behaviors had done little to soothe. Sigyn sighed deeply, sorrowfully.

Rising, she said softly and firmly. "I can hear your discontent. I can hear your anger and frustration. I understand that there can be confusion and ill-feelings when sorcery is involved." She tried to smile, but it failed into a grimace. The rumbles lowered and the grumbled silenced to strain to hear her words. "However, your complaints can be made open in our courts and before our king—" Her face grew solemn. "—if you have evidence. Not the evidence of gossips and tale-tellers—but the fair and straightforward evidence that Asgard demands to have before besmirching a man or woman's name with accusations.

"I charge each of you to consider well what Loki has done for us. As you strive to lay blame at his door, also consider what credit should be there as well. How many times have his illusions saved lives in battle? How many times has a spell aided us?"

Sigyn straightened as small whispers and rumbles floated through the crowd. "And I said 'spell'. I have heard much of how Thor's strength has won battles. I have heard much of the wisdom of Odin and the courage of Asgard's warriors. These are things that I and every Asgardian are proud of. But there is a place for spell work—in healing, in divining outcomes, and yes, even in disguise or trickery.

"No amount of courage, wit, wisdom or strength—or even spells—will solve all ills. There still will remain problems to solve. Even if Loki did not walk here—" Loki straightened and looked warily at his wife. "—there would not be an end to biting flies, poor harvests, and run-away chickens. Nor would there be an end to faithless folk, to cowards in battle, to treachery against our neighbors or to shysters. There would not be an end to the problems with dark elves or frost giants."

There was a rumble in the gathered crowd again but a slow acceptance of her words seemed to echo. Thor stood warily ready opposite Loki in the room. Odin looked on solemnly, almost sadly. Sigyn stood in the middle of her guards, her shoulders drooping. "I wish that I could give you good folk of Asgard such a life—a life free from so many small ills and hurts. But I cannot. Nor, I suspect, can anyone. Do you come forward with a problem that I can help with, I will listen and try to help you. Otherwise, I will yield to the will of His Majesty."

All eyes turned in wide-eyed expectation to Odin. Odin cleared his throat importantly. "I find..." he said at last. "That Sigyn has spoken rightly. We cannot solve every small ill—there will always be trials and my son is not the father of every one of them. If none can come forward with something to be rightly addressed, then I will declare audiences dismissed for the rest of the day and bid everyone to make ready for Thor's coronation."

The crowd seemed to shiver for a moment. For a breath, it seemed that everyone was watching to see what would happen. A small, nondescript man—who had blamed Loki for his milk turning sour because of the garlic growing wild in his pasture—left first with his face flaming. Then two more left. They were youths who had no particular complaint, but had wanted to watch the spectacle. The crowd broke at last, unable to face Thor and the Allfather.

Thor smiled ruefully at Sif and Sigyn as the last ones departed. Sif smiled at him warily as though it were a battle too easily won. His hand still tingled—ready to strike—but he was not ready to face Loki or his easy smirks and half-truths.

Odin simply pressed forward wearily like an old man yearning for the end of a long voyage. Going to Sigyn, he pressed his hand on her shoulder. "You have done well, child."

Sigyn took in a deep, shuddering breath and whispered. "Tell the guards to go." The guards looked alarmed and stared at the Allfather. "They have done no ill, but I should like to be alone right now."

They hastened out at Odin's nod and Thor came forward. "Are you well, Sigyn? You seem...distressed."

Sigyn let out a howl that echoed eerily in the room and fell to her knees with her fists knotted in her teeth. Whether born of despair or hopelessness, it was impossible to tell but it was swiftly followed by fiery white snakes of magic that hissed and popped like fresh wood on a hot fire. One snake wrapped around a column and scraped the marble with thin grooves while another slammed against a table and burnt it instantly to a crisp.

Sif fell back with a shout as one tendril drifted to her. She drew her sword and then stopped with a glance at Thor. Thor knelt—stock still—beside Sigyn. As she regained her senses, she saw that while Sigyn's magic destroyed the few furnishings in the room—mainly benches, chairs, the table and desk. It wrapped in wide circles around everyone there. Even the Allfather with his hand still on her shoulder was safe as though wrapped in a shield neither seen nor felt.

Sigyn screamed again and all of the tendrils joined and rose like dragons towards the ceiling. As one, they slammed against the floor again—at Loki's feet. By scarcely inches, they missed the toes of his boots—only scalding the leather with heat.

Sigyn panted heavily, sweat dripping from her brow as though she had run the entire length of the rainbow bridge and back. Licking the sweat from her lips, she simply wrapped her arms around herself and began rocking back and forth.

Odin stared at the damage around him, sniffing the smells of charred wood and rock. Thor glanced around warily as though he were almost afraid to move. Sif stood warily, dusting herself off. None of them would look at Loki—who stood just behind where the audience throne had stood—a great ring of ash around his foot.

"Is everyone all right?" Sif asked softly. Devoid now of furnishings and people, even a soft voice echoed in the room.

"We are all well, Sif," Thor answered softly. He stared at the intricate design of ash around Loki sadly.

Loki took a deep gulp of air and it almost singed his throat. The air felt choking and hot and full of things he did not dare admit to feeling. Whether he had been wrong or right—doing ill or doing fair—he had done nothing that he could recollect that deserved this defense of his pride and his abused sense of honor. And now he did not dare move closer for fear that he might break.

It was Odin who squeezed Sigyn's shoulder and gently took her hand to help her rise to her feet. Thor shrugged out of his cloak and wrapped it around her shivering form, swathing her in crimson that looked like fresh blood.

"Little sister," Thor said with a forced smile. "I am reminded to always mind my ways to be regarded well in your eyes."

"I have no eyes," Sigyn said bitterly as Thor blanched. She nodded thoughtfully. "I did not mean to destroy everything though."

"It can be replaced," Odin said softly.

"All of it was dreadfully old," Thor added, trying to sound lighthearted. "Splinters and cracks. It's why we dumped it here instead of some poor soul's room."

"That was a dreadful lie," Sigyn said softly, a ghost of a smile returning. "Every piece here was sturdy and most likely beautiful and in good repair." She sighed and shivered again. "I...am sorry. I lost my temper."

"Better the furniture than at the folk of Asgard," Odin remarked blandly. He smiled. "I remember losing my temper and striking a table in here once with Gungir." Thor's lips twitched and Loki simply stared at the Allfather. "It shattered and...here—" He drew Sigyn towards a column and pressed her fingers into a crevice in it. "A piece flew into this column and stayed there until it rotted out."

Sigyn let out a watery giggle. "Such silliness. It's a wonder you all aren't raving by now."

Odin glared at his younger son. "Loki, come forward. Sigyn needs us around her."

Loki stumbled forward, his steps lacking grace and his words frozen in his throat. Taking Sigyn's icy fingers in his own, he kissed the knuckles. They were covered with red marks like burns and her palms were scored over and over with little half moons. He stroked her palm silently.

Sigyn seemed to have choked bag a sob. "I tried to control it. At first it was one person—some silliness of how his ship drifted because you had unraveled the anchor rope when I know you were with me at a feast that night. I offered him another measure of rope. Then more came forward with a list of complaints.

"I tried. I tried to defend you. I tried to think of how it might have been to the greater good or anything to get them to stop. But they kept coming forward with complaints and called for you to be brought before the courts—"

Loki gaped. "Sif came and found us."

Sigyn nodded, though she could not have seen she was nodding to the empty room and that Sif stood warily behind her. "My thanks, Lady." She shivered again. "I called for the guards to come closer because one was drunk and complaining that you called his wife into infidelity." Loki opened his mouth to protest, but Sigyn held up her hand. "I don't care if you did or didn't as it happened some six years ago before we were even pledged." She sighed sadly. "I will not move against you. I will honor my vows.

"But I cannot say that I am able to stand beside you. Even if half of what was accused was true—I cannot..."

Thor blanched and pressed his hand on her shoulder. More than any, he knew what it took to make the excuses and to try to hide what Loki might have done. "My sister—we are all...overwrought and weary." Sigyn shot him a look, her scars flaming red across her pale face. Had she eyes, Thor imagined she would have looked lost. Hesitantly, Thor smiled at her. "I will lead you to your room and we will all allow you privacy and rest."

"Indeed," Odin agreed softly. "It will do us all good to consider what has happened today." He gestured towards his sons. "You are both dismissed as well—to think of what has been said and done. I have not seen such brave fidelity before and need, myself, to consider how best to reward it."

Loki took the Allfather's place beside Sigyn. "Come... I will lead you."

Yet, this time, Sigyn did not take his elbow or smile at his voice. Instead, she moved closer to the Allfather. "My king, I should like to thank the Lady Sif first. Had she not fetched you, I should have gone mad." She showed them her palms and the angry little moon marks on them. "I had nothing else and pressed my nails into my palms to prevent my magic from harming them."

Odin cast a meaningful look at Loki and then back at Sigyn. It did not escape his notice that she carefully did not choose Thor to lead her to her room, but not Loki either. With a heavy sigh, he led her to the other woman.

Sigyn's voice was raspy and hoarse. "My lady, I have you to thank for bringing me help when I was in dire need. I have neither sword nor shield to offer you, but only my friendship and heartfelt thanks. I will remember your aid this day and will repay it if I can."

Sif nodded solemnly. "I am honored, Your Highness." Thor beamed at her, his eyes twinkling in merry blue lights. She smiled shyly back flushing as he mouthed thank you to her as well.

Sigyn noticed none of this and walked silently with the Allfather to the chambers she shared with Loki. Slowly, wearily, she plodded along, paying no mind to any they passed.

Odin stopped at the doorway. "My dear." He debated the words carefully. "I know that today has been...shocking to you. I can only guess at what you were told and the accusations you heard." He sighed. "Loki is difficult to understand. I am glad that he has you who is willing to look below the surface of tricks and mischief to see the good within."

Sigyn shuddered and almost moaned. "I cannot find it this day, Allfather. I cannot." She shuddered again and feebly pressed a hand to her lower back. "And I ache all over now as though every word was a fist."

Odin nodded. "I will occupy Loki for a few hours to allow you privacy and send your maids to you that you may bathe and rest and-"

Whatever else the Allfather was going to say was lost as Sigyn crumpled beside him, holding her stomach. She groaned softly and panted as her stomach heaved. In a gasp, she said, "Please—take me inside."

Though old, Odin was strong and he hefted her up into his arms and carried her to the bed. Memnet came out from the bathing chamber—Loki had appeared briefly enough to grab a book and order a bath be drawn—and looked at her charge. Odin looked at her—his single eye glaring. "She needs-"

"Aye, I'll send for the midwife. My cousin knows Sigyn and will treat her well." Memnet interrupted as she came to the bedside. "My dear—I'm here. We'll get you into a comfortable nightgown and let you rest."

"The babe! He is early." Sigyn gasped painfully. The agony in the small of her back came again.

Memnet paled and forced out a chuckle. "Babies arrive when they wish. Besides-" she said reasonably as she pulled off a leather shoe. "-this one may simply wish for rest."

Odin paled and propped Sigyn up against the back of his shoulder. He kept his eye on the wall as she was undressed and then clothed in a loose, flowing gown. He had liked the soft fabric and the bright blue flowers on the pale pink fabric when Frigga had shown it to him. Carefully avoiding looking at Sigyn's exposed flesh, he provided her a handy prop and a strong grip so that she could get up and settle in the bed against some pillows. From somewhere a guard was summoned and dispatched to find Memnet's cousin. Another group of maids appeared and were sent to fetch water, blankets, swaddling and bandages, and other such stuff.

Quite without knowing how, Odin found himself outside the bedroom. First, the midwife had come in and begun gently coaxing Sigyn to speak of her symptoms and he had yielded his place on the side of the bed. An assistant had showed up with a basket of medicine and devices and he had stepped out of her way so that they could examine Sigyn. The midwife had instructed the assistant to light candles with relaxing aromas and to fetch a bowl with cool water and a cloth to wipe Sigyn's brow and he had stepped away again. Then, he had ended up backed up right by the door as another maid came in with a pile of towels. Stepping out of her way, he was suddenly outside. One of the maids smiled at him and gently closed the door.

So he found himself staring at the closed door when Thor came down the hallway. "Father," Thor said in confusion. "What are you doing out here? Is aught amiss?" He looked at the doorway and the faint shadows darting back and forth. "Sigyn?"

Odin laughed shortly. "That's the second time it has happened to me that a midwife has thrown me out of a bedroom."

Thor looked at him with a puzzled expression. "Should I fetch Loki?"

Odin shook his head. "If you would fetch us both chairs, I think we will wait here for a bit to see if there is any news." He clapped his eldest son on the shoulders. "I remember when you were born and how I dithered and generally was more anxious than Frigga..."

Thor brought out two chairs from his chambers and they sat in the hallway, waiting for news. Occasionally a maid would emerge only to duck back into the room or rush down a hallway without stopping. There were no scream or shouts, only bustling and rustling.

Finally, the midwife came out and approached them. "She has had a hard day of it. We have stalled the birth. It is too soon for him to be born and no mistake."

Thor looked at Odin and swallowed heavily before looking at the midwife. "Is she well? Can we see her?"

"She'll not receive visitors, young prince," the midwife said sternly, crossing her arms over her ample chest. "She is to rest and to recover. She said that today was hard and she sat a lot, so I will stay the night to see that the babe is well set and not likely to miscarry." She frowned. "If His Highness is around, I would tell him to go to some tavern and drink—heavily—until I send for him. I'll see that the babe stays put, but I'll not have someone else loitering around and making her fret."

Thor choked back a laugh. "I will fetch Loki and take him drinking."

Odin shook his head—merriment lighting his one eye. "Have a feast tonight—there are many here who are guests and who would like to feast to your coronation. It will occupy you both."

"That would be for the best," the midwife agreed smugly. "You can both drink and still be on hand should she take a turn for the worst and the babe come anyway."

Odin smiled. "I will then throw the feast myself—in honor of Sigyn." He gestured at Thor. "Go and gather our friends and set the kitchens to work and we will all feast tonight."

"We will send a platter up for the princess," Thor offered.

The midwife snorted. "Not with the rich foods you favor, Your Highness. She needs simple foods—cut fruits, cheeses, fresh bread and water. Nor wine or beer unless I send for it. A flagon of crisp, cool water with lemon slices in it would do well to quench her thirst along with a pot of hot water for tisanes." She appeared to think for a moment and then said. "No use raising a fuss—it would only upset the Princess, I think. So send up her dinner and I will see that she is tended tonight. In the morning, I will leave my assistant while I tend to a matter at home and then will return." She shot them both a rather quelling glare. "And no use worrying about whether or not she'll be up and about to attend any festivities. She won't, as I mean to keep her off her feet for some time. In fact, as long as I can." She turned briskly. "If you have any questions, you may write them down and slip them under the door and I will answer them as I can." She opened and shut the door firmly behind her.

Thor gaped and Odin only nodded with a smile. Odin clapped Thor on the shoulder again and picked up his chair to carry it back to Thor's apartments. "Son, I'd say we've been given our marching orders."

"But, Father, she's a..."

"Midwife."

"And we've been ordered to—"

"Drink. And feast. And send a platter with simple foods along with both cool water and hot water."

"But—"

"Don't argue with her."

Thor laughed hugely. "I see. Well, I apparently have a feast to host." He laughed again and they took the chairs into his chambers. "I will see to Loki as best I can if you will see the feast set." He grimaced as he considered the events of the afternoon. "Father, did we just get ordered out of...my brother's rooms?!"

Odin chuckled at Thor's bemused expression. "And just wait until it is your turn with your lady. If you thought we were reprimanded just now, wait until she is attending your wife. My ears stung like they had been boxed several times as I was lectured on how to treat Frigga in her childbearing."

Thor laughed again. "I see that I am to be outnumbered..." He smiled. "I suppose that we should tell Mother before she comes here and crosses that dragon's path."

Odin nodded. "I will tell her and she will be discreet."

Thor grimaced. "I will find Loki and tell him of the feasting and make Sigyn's excuses."

Odin stared for a moment at nothing in particular. "I suppose it will be for the best if he is told. I'd rather he not make Sigyn more upset, but he will-"

"Go raving mad if he finds out her distress and none of us told him," Thor finished grimly.

"Yes," Odin agreed sadly.

Thor left his sire and began searching through the palace. His friends were in one of the salons, playing chess and cards. Sif looked at him strangely as he asked if they knew where Loki was, and only shook her head before turning again to her board. Hogun watched silently, frowning and brooding. Volstagg's ears perked when Thor explained that there was to be a feast tonight and he smiled broadly, but then Fandral took one grim look at him and he seemed to falter.

"Is Sigyn all right?" Fandral asked suddenly.

Thor nodded. "She is resting in the care of the midwife. She has extended her excuses."

Sif looked at the carved ebony queen sitting on the chessboard. "I have told our friends of what happened during the audiences." She thumped the black king over and watched it bounce off the board. "We will not say more than you. Only that she is resting."

Thor smiled softly at Sif. "You have warmed to her, then?"

Sif frowned. "I have and I say she is too good for Loki." Sif glared at the black king as she kicked it with her foot. The piece spun on the slick floor and then cracked against a table leg with the head going one way and the rest going the other. "I know that he is your brother, but he does not deserve to have her honor him so. She is kind and generous and thoughtful—everything he is only able to pretend to be."

Fandral smiled sadly. "My lady Sif—it has been a hard day. I think that you could undoubtedly use a generous cup of wine and a turn on the dancing tiles to raise your spirits."

"And what of her?" Sif snapped angrily. "She lies abed because-" Her eyes screwed shut and she felt hoarse for a moment. "Because I did not stop the complaints when they first started." She shrugged and blinked rapidly shining eyes. "I had thought that there was no harm is letting one or two vent their spleen and show her the one she married. I had no idea that it would get so out of hand."

Thor came to her and wrapped his arms around her. "'Twas not your fault." He kissed the top of her head. "This was a storm set to break and nothing could have stopped it from coming sooner or later."

Fandral smiled sadly. "Will the lady need company? Perhaps a lively story or song to pass the time?"

Thor smiled at his friends. "Odin and I have been ordered—by the midwife, no less—to not darken the door until we are sent for." He forced a laugh. "A crown prince and king bow to the whims of a midwife." A smile half-cocked his lips. "We have been ordered to feast and drink and keep from brooding while we wait."

"Ah..so that is the reason for the hasty feast," Volstagg said with a smile. "I was told the same when my own came." He shrugged his massive shoulders eloquently. "But it is a good reason to feast..."

Hogun grunted in amusement. "You do not need a reason to feast."

Fandral smiled. "We will do as ordered then. We will feast and make merry and keep our friends from brooding." He leaned back in his chair with his arms wide. "Bring on the adoring maidens."

Sif let out a deep, gurgling laugh. "You do not need a reason to bring out the adoring maidens."

Thor chuckled. "I have good friends to feast with. As soon as I have found Loki, we can begin."

Thor found Loki at last in their weapons training room. Every target was smashed—though only a few sizzled with magic. Every rack and shelf had been upset as though a storm had raged inside—the weapons and supplies and books scattered to the floor. One practice hammer was split with magic.

Loki himself was sitting against a wall, a broken quarterstaff in his hands. He had either not had on his armor and only the illusion when in the audience chamber or had doffed it some time ago as his green shirt was soaked with sweat. His eyes were ruddy and swollen and his hands were blistered and raw. His boots were scratched at the ankles where the spinning targets had struck low. There was a small rip along one narrow leg and several other bruises.

Thor swallowed and came over gingerly. He could not name what had beset Loki—Loki who never seemed to grieve or sorrow. He silently appraised the damage and looked again at his brother. With a sigh, he offered his hand.

Loki swatted it away and stared at one of the carved target's "heads" as it lay shattered on the floor propping a chin on a bent knee. As Thor only stood there, looking at the damage, he sighed and leaned back again and rolled his eyes up at his older brother. "I suppose that you are here to take me to task?"

"No," Thor rumbled. "I am here to take you to a feast."

Loki's eyes rolled again. "In honor of your coronation? I think that I'd rather not."

"Father will insist—" Thor began.

"Tell him I'm ill. Tell him that I've turned into a bird and migrated. Tell him that I've business elsewhere. Tell him I've turned into a salmon or sea bass and swum away." Loki shrugged. "Tell him anything you like."

"Father will insist," Thor repeated. "Because the feast is to honor Sigyn." Loki glared up at him, as though daring him to say that he made a jest. "To honor her example of fidelity and loyalty."

"She'll be fine without me," Loki grumbled, tossing the staff onto the pile of rubbish.

Thor sighed heavily. Of all the duties that would fall to him, this had to be the one he shouldered most reluctantly. "Sigyn...cannot attend—"

That roused Loki's interest. Loki sprang to his feet and blasted Thor with a spray of magical flames. Thor fell back, wishing he had his cloak still. Loki's hands flamed with his fury and his face became a mask of rage. "Why can Sigyn not attend?"

Thor coughed a bit at the smoky smell. "She is resting—" Loki raised his hands and the flames joined into a ball of acidic green fire. "Brother—she is truly resting under the care of the midwife."

The fire puffed out like an unguarded candle flame in a wind. Loki's red-rimmed eyes went wide. "What?! When? How?" he gaped. His face went white and his eyes were wide as though he had a fright. He grabbed Thor's armor and pulled him close. "What happened?"

Thor chuckled a little. "She is resting in the care of the midwife. She felt ill after the audiences and Father took her to your chambers. The midwife ordered us to take you drinking so that none of us—including you—would brood and make her fretful." He smiled in bemusement, although Loki did not return the smile. "Father proposed the feast in her honor and sent me to fetch you." He clapped Loki on the back, causing the slighter man to jerk. "You have found a rare and wonderful woman, I think."

Loki's lips pressed out a thin smile. "I guess that I am attending a feast then." He pressed his hands together. "However, I will not leave Sigyn unguarded in her...confinement. There must be two guards at her door and under the balcony at all times, as well as at each end of the hallway."

Thor's brow knitted in concern. "Brother—we are well defended in the palace. Our allies surround us. Do you suspect an attack?" He smiled again. "It would be madness for anyone to attack when we and all our allies have gathered together."

Loki only glared. "I will post the guards myself."

Thor shook his head. No wonder the midwife advised heavy drinking if this is how new fathers were prone to reacting. "No, brother. You will get cleaned up. Fandral will loan you clothes if you need them and I will loan you armor if you wish. You will attend the feast to accept Sigyn's honors and I will post guards as you have said."

Loki looked at Thor speculatively, as though judging the truth of his words. "We will go together. It will harm none if I get fresh clothing."

Thor's lips twitched in merriment. "I would not advise it. The midwife would only be enraged and send you out as she did Father and me."

Loki looked at him as though he were mad. "What did you say?"

Thor's voice dripped with amusement. "We were ordered out. We were told that she would send for us if the babe came or if Sigyn was—in her opinion, my brother—judged fit for company."

Loki turned even more pale—if that were possible. "The child is coming? He is too soon!"

"As we all thought," Thor nodded. "But they have stopped the birth for now and she is resting." Loki almost seemed to twitch nervously and Thor could not help but tease him. "Brother—I love you dearly, but I am glad that I will not take a wife and have that particular dragon breathing fire at me."

Loki staggered out of the room, deaf and dumb to Thor's comments. They assigned a rotation of 8 guards to watch that no one intruded on Sigyn. Loki felt his mouth go dry and a lump in his throat as he watched the guards assume their positions. Thor would allow them shifts of four hours in this area and then allow them to be relieved and go into the main halls so that they could all see a portion of the festivities. As Thor spoke with one of the guards, he cast quickly and vanished before teleporting inside his apartment bedroom.

Inside the bedroom, Sigyn rested on the immense bed in one of the new night gowns that Frigga had bought her recently. The midwife sat by the hearth, knitting or sewing or some such. Her assistant wound a skein of thread into a ball and together they kept watch on a host of devices that monitored Sigyn and the baby. Candles with soothing aromas—chamomile, lavender, cardamom, and sandalwood—clustered on the mantle and on the bedside table. He pinched his nose to avoid sneezing. A kettle rested near the fireplace, along with a cup of what appeared to be tea or steeped herbs. A platter could be seen on the desk with simply prepared foods. A half-empty carafe of cool water stood on the bedside table with a tall, sweaty glass and a bowl of lemons and oranges beside it.

Sigyn muttered softly and reached out to the empty space beside her. Loki almost went to her, but was pushed aside by the midwife as she bustled and drew up a quilt over his wife. "There, there, dear," she said softly and brushed the tendrils back from Sigyn's face. "Do not fret."

Sigyn's breath shuddered out and the monitors shuddered with her. "I dreamed that Loki was here," she whimpered. "That he wanted to hold my hand and speak to me."

"Ah," the midwife nodded. "A good dream, to be dreaming of the child's father." She patted Sigyn's hand gently. "Have you decided on a name?"

"We were torn between Narvi and Vali," Sigyn said softly.

"Both are good, strong names," the midwife nodded. "But what if the child is a girl?"

Sigyn giggled softly. "I do not think my lord would countenance such rebellion." She then turned and said softly. "I hope that he..." Her voice cracked and she let out a little cry.

The midwife tutted. "I've made you cry, child." She took Sigyn's hand. "But we will speak of pleasant things so that your child—boy or girl—will have pleasant voices and tones to carry through the next days."

Sigyn tugged up the blanket. "I am so cold—am I supposed to be so cold?"

The midwife smiled. "I have yet to know of a standard way a mother is supposed to be." She waved to the assistant who went to fetch another quilt. "It would make my job easier if there was only one way. My assistant has gone to get another quilt and we will sing together."

"Sing?" Sigyn asked.

"Indeed—it will relax you and soothe the infant." The midwife shrugged. "It is hardly his fault that he so eager to see you that he is early." Sigyn jumped a bit and shifted restlessly in the bed. "And I see from that kick he agrees."

There was a clanking from the doorway and the midwife rolled her eyes. "I'll see what that's about. Won't be a moment, my dear and we'll pick out songs to sing."

The midwife burst open the door and all but snarled at the guards. "Now what's this clanking and banging around? I have ordered quiet for my lady to rest and you two cads-"

"Prince Thor's orders, ma'am. We are to spend 4 hours at our posts and then rotate so that there are always fresh eyes guarding the princess."

"Well leave off the clanking and banging around. A body can't rest with such a racket. Now, be quiet or I'll summon the entire court to take you off where you can clank and leave us in peace. And as they are at a feast to honor the lady, I'll just dare you to make me summon them!"

Loki smirked at the midwife as she continued to berate the hapless guard. He conjured a flower and laid it on the bed. Did Sigyn move but a little, she would feel the stem. Would she pull it close or fling it from her, though? He almost hoped she would fling it to the ground. It would be a release from the fire in his throat and chest to have her do that small thing against him. He deserved it. He deserved all of it. Every screaming chant, every curse, every cry and shout and accusation—he deserved it all.

The midwife came back, muttering dire threats under her breath. With a sigh, she smiled again at Sigyn and tucked her in with the new quilt the assistant brought.

"When will Loki be back?" Sigyn asked after a moment.

The midwife blushed. "I believe that he is attending the feast as we speak. I have told them to go off and get drunk and not stand around fretting and fuming. There's naught here that they could do at any rate."

"Will he come back to me tonight?"

Loki's teeth gritted. He wasn't sure what the answer would be—wasn't sure what it should be. He willed her to feel the flower—to take it close or to dash it away.

The midwife smiled. "Lass, there's few things that warm my heart more than a wife in love with her husband. If you are well and the baby is settled, then I will send for him in the morning."

"But if not?" Sigyn's face fell.

The midwife perched on the bed. "Then as soon as you are settled in your labor, I will send for him." She snorted. "No use having him pace around and snarl at us all when its just us resting and waiting, now is there?"

"He's not an animal," Sigyn protested weakly.

The midwife's assistant snorted and the midwife raised her hand silently to the wench, but even she seemed to choke on the words. "My lady—of course he isn't. However, watching someone else rest would surely try anyone's patience?"

Sigyn nodded uncertainly, letting out a soft gasp as the child kicked. "We will rest, I think. For a while..."

"Would you like another sip of tea or water?" the midwife offered softly. "Valerian and chamomile and mint to aid you?"

Sigyn smiled and yawned widely and settled again for sleep. "I will rest well enough, I think."

The midwife let out a gruff smile. "Dream of your love, then. Dream of holding your precious babe and the smile on your face when he is in your arms."

Loki teleported out of the room again and invisibly into the halls. The guards stood at the door and another pair at each end of the hallway. Yet another pair slid past in tandem on apparently a patrol.

The guard on the left of the door sighed. "It will be a long night."

The second guard nodded. "My first took nearly two days to be born and I do not believe that the princess has had her labor pains yet." He blew out a deep sigh. "I hope that she is as strong as they say."

The first nodded in return. "My Kristin was confined for a month after the last child because of the bleeding."

"At least this midwife is sure and confident. It seemed to me that when my wife bore her second the midwife dithered about more than I did." His shoulders shook lightly. "I had to take the woman in hand and almost ended up tending my wife myself."

The first one paused for a moment. "Did you hear about the audiences this morning?"

The second turned to him quickly. "Hush about that! If you're smart, you heard nothing either." He glanced around, totally missing Loki as he stood before him, before whispering softly, "I heard that she collapsed after the audiences."

"Me, too. I heard that it was the Allfather that brought her to her chamber and summoned the midwife."

The second guard made a tsk sound with his tongue. "I would wager that Loki will pay dearly for that one."

"Me too. I would wager that the Allfather will-"

Loki allowed himself to appear suddenly, wrapped in the illusion of full regalia. "Will do what?" he asked softly with a sinister smile.

"Nothing, Your Highness," they both barked, suddenly standing straighter.

Thor came around the corner. "Loki! I see you are ready for the feast." He clapped his brother on the shoulder and turned him around. "Let us go. I'm told that the sweet tonight is honey cakes dipped in dark chocolate—your favorite."

Loki stiffly followed Thor, casually dropping spells behind him. If he had even thought that today would be the day that Sigyn delivered his child, he would not have indulged in his tantrum in the training room and wasted his magic. As it was, he allowed himself to drop divining spells so that he could simply gaze into a mirror or a filled cup and see what was happening in the hallways. The drain on his reserves of magical power were staggering, but he would not trust anyone else.

Odin had rounded up quite a gathering by the time the princes made it into the room for their grand entrance. Everyone was balancing a plate and goblet in their hands and relishing the grand feast—suckling pigs with baked apples, mead soaked hens, a side of auroch roasted with pepper sauce, and too many other dishes to name. Thor was quickly swept up into a crowd of well-wishers and friends and Loki stood to the side, debating what really looked appealing enough to cross the room and fetch it. Truthfully, none of it did. None of it looked tasty and appealing enough to dare the stares and snickers he was sure would follow him.

A maid passed with a sweating flagon, filling cups. With an air of nonchalance that belied her hasty approach, she filled his cup and hurried away. Loki's eyes followed the flagon, watching it sweat little drops of water that dropped to the floor only to be crushed under someone's boot.

Frowning, Loki took his normal place at the high table, greeting his parents with little more than a nod. He missed or ignored the knowing look that Odin gave Frigga and simply sat, staring at his cup and sipping from it whenever anyone seemed about to approach him. He didn't even notice the maid as she circled round to fill his cup again with the rich, red wine that Odin and Thor favored serving at their feasts. Another maid timidly brought a plate, but he pushed it away and kept staring into his cup and drinking.

Odin signaled for a wine to be brought again and spoke softly to Loki. "My son—is all well?"

Loki shrugged and took a hearty gulp of the wine. The taste was not so bitter now that he was sure now that he did not taste salty tears in the brew.

Frigga leaned over to him. "Her midwife is the best that I know of. She will be well cared for." She smiled gently. "Why not enjoy some of the feast?"

Loki looked up at his parents coldly. "While I am feted and fed like a pig to be roasted." He took another drink. "I'm told that I am to get drunk, so I am about the task."

Odin grimaced and Frigga glanced at him with a slight nod. The midwife had marked Loki well. He would have brooded and started every time the poor chick gasped. With a hopeful smile, Odin nodded the maid forward again to refill the cups.

The entire evening was raucous and noisy and filled with boasting and laughter. Thor was in his element, extolling his own valor and prowess as others did the same. Odin walked among the chancellors, ambassadors and such to greet friends and to speak with them. Frigga alternated between sitting patiently at the high table and wandering around to speak with the ladies of the court.

Loki drank—deeply and as often as he could manage to flag a servant to refill his cup. It didn't matter if it was the smooth red wine his father favored or the sweet cherry cordial his mother liked or the honey colored mead Thor liked. It all tasted like bitter, dirty water. There was no pleasant fizzle in his blood or warm fuzzing of his thoughts, not the slightest breath of pleasant, liquid forgetfulness.

In between swallows, he cursed—vehemently and without stinting himself, his past, the people of Asgard, Odin, Thor, Sif, Frigga or whatever maggot twisted the thoughts of the Norns as they wove his fate. If he hadn't left Sigyn to the audiences, none of this would have happened. If Sif had been doing her job—namely, guarding Sigyn—then it would not have happened. If Odin hadn't seized the chance to huddle together with both of his sons before yielding the throne, then none of this would have happened.

He slammed down the cup again and a serving boy breathlessly whizzed past, filled it and kept going. He looked into the still wine and saw Sigyn, resting comfortably as the midwife and her assistant frowned at their machines and devices. He grew more uncomfortable in that the machines looked as foreign to his eyes and his spell components and devices probably looked to their eyes.

That was followed by an uncomfortable thought—a truly foreign thought to him—that the items, herbs and spell craft he was so deft with would be foreign and terrifying to another. Of course, that was what had attracted him to spell craft in the first place—the pleasant sting of Thor not knowing which end of a wand was which. Had Sigyn eyes to see, would she regard his spell craft with mistrust and ill-will?

It was a small mercy that sleeping Sigyn held tightly to the stem he had placed on her bed. It was a small, random and probably pointless gesture—a flower that could have come from anywhere. She reached again to his place in the bed and again withdrew as she met cool sheets. She appeared to utter some small cry in her sleep—silent in his vision—and the midwife came to her and held her hand.

Loki cast an eye upward to the feast. Odin was boasting and preening as people admired Thor. Frigga was listening to some mavens gossiping about something or other. Thor was being admired and fawned over while Sif stood by and smiled. The Warriors Three drank and flirted and feasted as they each wished.

Loki drained the cup in three swallows and stood. There was a sudden rush to his head and his eyes clouded for a moment. He stared at the plate of cold viands and shuddered as he shook his head to clear it.

"Loki!" Odin said in his usual, over loud tones. "Come—we feast to honor Sigyn. Come and share a cup with us." He came over and led Loki to the group and pressed a cup in his hand.

One of the group—an rather aged looking man with massively ruddy cheeks and nose—tittered. "We have heard about Sigyn-"

"Have you?" he asked almost blandly.

"Indeed—we have been hearing how devoted she is," the man chuckled.

Frigga butted in. "I have spoken to them about how loyal Sigyn has been to you, Loki," she explained unnecessarily. He only raised an eyebrow. "We have all been favorably impressed..."

"Where is this paragon now?" another man chirped with a hiccup and a lewd look.

"She rests and recovers so that her babe will be strong," Frigga replied sharply.

"A baby?" the first smiled. "There's something to drink to!" He raised his glass. "A toast to the Princess Sigyn and the child!"

Loki toasted reluctantly. All of a sudden, the entire hall seemed filled with stinking, hypocritical geezers and crones. Not a one of them could have been bothered to greet him as he sat there, and now suddenly as one sodden wit heard it from another, toasts were being raised to her health and the child's health all across the hall.

Of course, the round of toasts quickly degenerated into a drinking game.

As Thor guzzled from his huge drinking horn and Volstagg beat the table in time with his swallows, others began cheering. Despairing and in a foul temper, Loki took a bottle—it really didn't matter which one—from a serving table and disappeared down a back hallway. His head swam unpleasantly and his tongue felt...furry. Still there was no rest in his mind—he still felt the anxious, churning in his stomach and the burning fury of his anger as he recounted the day. He had had enough of the feasting, and was ready to seek a place to rest.

The midwife glowered at him from the tiny crack that she opened the door when he knocked. With a snort and a sniff to have done any huffy lady at court proud, she ordered him, "Find another place to rest tonight, Your Highness. Your lady is resting here."

Loki rolled his bloodshot eyes. "I have spent this evening drinking, per your orders, and now I seek only to rest."

"Loki?" Sigyn called through gritted teeth, her voice faint from the bedroom across the sitting area. "Is that you?"

The assistant wailed softly and ran from the front sitting room to the bedroom. "My lady—do not strain!"

The midwife cursed softly and followed the assistant in without thought to the frowning prince at the door. Loki's apartment was similar to the one Sigyn had been given—a sitting room in the front with a bedchamber beyond and an immense closet and then a bathing area beyond that. Unlike Sigyn's smaller space, he had an extra bedroom and closet branching off so that his lady and he could each have a space. He had allowed her to get to know the space, but they had slept in each others arms and, truthfully, the other bedroom was furnished but not finished, as his mother liked to say.

The sitting area had been dusted, but not much else, and Loki sat down his bottle on the coffee table and draped himself in a chair by the fireplace. For a time, it seemed like a good idea to simply sit and wait, but eventually his curiosity got the better of him.

The invisibility spell was difficult. The heady wine and mead and cordial unexpectedly sang in his blood and his mind was sleepy and slow. Usually, he could dash out the words quickly and vanish as fast as a blink. Now, it took him three tries and he still wobbled on the last bit. But, he was hidden from view as he followed inside.

Sigyn's face was flushed and she sweated as she bit her bottom lip. The midwife and assistant buzzed around her. "Where is..." she gasped and then groaned. "Loki?"

The midwife looked set to offer some pithy remark and then looked at the readings on the tablet she had with her. The Asgardian device showed readings that were highly unusual and she frowned. Truthfully, she had never seen such readings before. She licked her sweaty lip and swallowed heavily. Tugging on her assistant, she whispered, "Find the Prince-"

"Prince Loki?" the assistant asked.

The midwife stroked Sigyn's stomach and nodded. "While you're about it, tell the King as Queen as well." She tried unsuccessfully to smile at Sigyn as the assistant rushed off. "My dear—you are straining too hard. The child is large and will not come easily—save your strength."

Sigyn moaned. "Please...is the child well?"

The midwife gazed at the lines and readings on her chart. "He seems to be..." She frowned. "But he..."

Sigyn groaned again. "He is pushing too hard!" Her stomach flexed strangely.

Loki felt the adrenaline burn through the alcoholic haze. "My dear," he said softly, pushing past the midwife as he became visible. He knelt on the bed. Sigyn reached for him and he took her in his arms.

The midwife frowned as he arranged her on the pillows and soothed her—talking nonsense of flowers and gardens and dragons and such. And purple feathers—whatever that was. But Sigyn gradually relaxed and the crisis seemed to be passing—the child settling in for another bout of rest.

She tutted and glowered at her instruments and went to her baggage to prepare a drink for Sigyn. Loki kept on smiling at her, joking and laughing about everything and nothing and for the time being, it seemed the princess was able to rest. But the child was already enormous and much too early. Even allowing for an extra month before Sigyn estimated her conception, it was still early and she had no idea how Sigyn would manage.

She came over and smiled at Sigyn. "Now my dear—drink some of your water. You will need to keep sipping and I will advise resting for a bit. I'll summon the maids in an hour or so and they will be able to change your bed and help you put on something fresh to wear, if you like."

Loki frowned and cuddled Sigyn close as she drifted to sleep. "Is that the best that you can manage to do?" he hissed over his love's sleeping head.

Instead of quailing and whimpering before him, the midwife crossed her arms over her chest again and frowned mightily at him in return. "Your Highness—I have been birthing babes since my youth. I have attended the healer's school for twelve years before that—when my mam was attending your mother as your brother was born." She glowered again. "The child is large and the mother is slender. It is only natural that the birth will be long and slow as they both adjust and she labors."

Loki gestured impatiently. "And what is your point?"

"My point is that she will likely have a long labor. The child is coming too soon because he is so large. She simply is running out of room to hold him within." Her frown deepened. "I attempt to forestall the birth so that there is the best chance of survival."

Loki swallowed deeply, feeling his eyes sting with tears. "Will I lose them both?"

"There is no telling," the midwife said gruffly. "And I do not say these words lightly to a young father. I have lost children before and mothers who were weak or ill." She sighed and began fiddling with her things. "It is a part of birthing, I suppose." She paused, gathering her breath and then looked at him solemnly. "Your princess is strong in her heart. She thinks of you and speaks of you often. She wants her child and that is the best gift. I've attended mothers who did not and their child suffered greatly in their wombs because of it. I've attended mothers who wanted their children more than anything and their spirit was so strong that they made it through when all seemed lost.

"Her Highness truly wants her child. She wants this child more than anything else. The child, though large, is nestled still and nourished in her womb. When all of my skills are spent, the mother's spirit often turns the tide and brings new life into the world."

Loki only nodded and brushed Sigyn's hair from her face. His tears sparkled in her brown tresses like diamonds. He kissed her brow.

"That will be the door," the midwife said softly. "I will close the bedroom door so that they do not disturb you and will greet them myself."

Frigga paced in the sitting area as Odin waited patiently. The assistant had let them in—not nearly so dour and formidable as the midwife herself, and then had vanished to find Prince Thor. Odin frowned as Frigga kept pacing, but said nothing.

The midwife came out slowly, her eyes downcast and her face troubled. "Your Majesties," she greeted carefully.

"We received your summons," Frigga said. "Is the child born? Is Sigyn well?"

The midwife looked at Frigga in her glistening raiment. "Princess Sigyn is well for now and is resting with Prince Loki."

Frigga took a deep breath of relief but Odin's eye narrowed on the midwife. "The child is well?" he asked in a low voice.

The midwife shrugged. "The child is early. I can only forestall the birth a little to give him time to grow." She fidgeted restlessly. "But I would hazard that he will be born within the next few days."

Thor's voice boomed from the hall doorway. "Then we will have to postpone the ceremony," he smiled.

The midwife smiled at Odin's eldest son. "Your Highness," she greeted. "I cannot say how long this may go on. It may be days or weeks before the child is born. Or hours."

"The ceremony will go as planned," Odin decreed stiffly without looking at Thor behind him. "But we must support Sigyn as well."

"Loki said as much," Thor pointed out. "He has ordered guards under her balcony, at the doorway and at each end of the hallway." He shrugged in his armor. "I have ordered others to patrol this area."

"The Princess Sigyn rests," the midwife offered. "But as the child seems set to wait a spell, then I cannot find any reason that I cannot go and see if His Highness would like company for this long wait."

"May it be a long wait," Odin nodded. He cast a strange look at Frigga, who grimaced. "Very well. Let us see if Loki desires company."

Loki held on to Sigyn, ignoring the voices in the other room. The midwife had begun explaining again to his family that Sigyn's child was so large. Mother was pacing—her light shoes tapping on the floor. Odin was probably looming somewhere and apparently Thor had come around to see the commotion. He patted Sigyn's belly again, crooning soft songs to them all. She slept in his arms, soothed like a child. With reluctance, he eased out of her arms and slipped into the sitting room.

"Loki!" Odin greeted. "We have come at the summons of the midwife."

"Sigyn is well," he nodded. "Her child is so large he seems a giant within her." He cocked a smile he did not feel. "And it seems that he is impatient to be in this world."

Frigga wrung her hands as she considered what would be best to do. "Is there anything at all we can do?"

"Have you decided on a name, Brother?" Thor asked with a smile and only a slight slur. "It does not seem fit to call my nephew by other than his name." He paused and then added as an afterthought, "Or her name, be she a girl."

"Narvi," Loki said swiftly. "Narvi is his name."

Frigga nodded. "And what if it is a girl?"

"He isn't," Loki bit out. "He's far too big."

Odin forced out a chuckle. "That's the way of it." He considered Gungir, still tight in his hand. "Perhaps we should walk together, Loki. It will aid in clearing your head for it looks to be a long night."

Loki glowered impatiently. "I do not feel ill at all. Perhaps it can wait..."

Odin chuckled knowingly. "I'll let that go for now considering how much you drank at the feast-"

"A full skin, Brother," Thor chuckled as well. Loki blinked at him in confusion. "You drank a full skin of wine without stopping. It's a wonder that you are still standing."

"Sigyn does wonderful things for me," Loki nodded, still unable to find even his usual mask of gaiety and snarky cheer. He cast an eye up and down his brother. "However, you look the worse for the wear..."

"Aye," Thor nodded unsteadily. "I matched you cup for cup, I think, and have not yet recovered."

"Go to bed, dear," Frigga smiled. "You have a full slate tomorrow and must be hale and hearty for the coronation."

Odin nodded at Thor. "I will expect to see you in my study at the normal time." He cocked a smile that somehow seemed to echo Loki's usual countenance. "Unless Narvi pays us a visit first." He turned to Loki. "You may be excused as long as the midwife will allow you stay here, but I will expect you to represent you both at the coronation."

Thor smiled, beaming at the room in general. He enjoyed the thought of a nephew that he could teach to fight and carry on his broad shoulders. Of course, Odin would be in the thick of things, wanting to carry the lad off on adventures and hunts as long as Sleipnir could put one hoof in front of the other seven. The day after tomorrow, his first proclamation would be to name Narvi as his successor to the throne. Granted, as they had both split a skin of the potent honey mead, the idea had been a spur-of-the-moment inspiration, but he had warmed to it. With Narvi as the heir, he would not have to worry about being tied to some lady and her sighs and crochets. Loki would be a protective and attentive father and watch over the throne and Asgard even more carefully with his son. He sketched a bow that almost landed him on his nose. "Until the morrow's light," he said to his father.

Loki sat down heavily in one of the stuffed chairs, suddenly feeling his head start to pound and wobble on his shoulders. With a heavy sigh, he stretched out his legs and rolled his head back around. Had they been back on the island, Sigyn would have rubbed his shoulders and neck and eased the ache, but she was asleep. For a moment, he didn't even recollect where or how to summon a servant to find the masseuse. His head cocked backward against the back of his chair and he closed his eyes wearily—not even aware of his snores.

Frigga and Odin looked at each other as their son's eyes closed and he seemed to drift to sleep. Odin touched Frigga's hand and smiled sadly. With a steady gaze, he looked at the midwife and whispered, "I should like to see Sigyn for myself."

The midwife frowned again and was set to deliver a lecture—who did these people think they were, after all?-and she never saw Gungir rise and fall briefly or note that she was paralyzed and frozen in time.

Frigga chuckled softly. "Was that really necessary?"

Odin waved Gungir again and Loki was similarly frozen as he lay there. "That was probably unnecessary given how much he drank," he clarified with a smirk. "But I cannot afford to have Loki awaken in this."

Walking through to the bedchamber, Odin froze the assistant without a moment's compunction and went to Sigyn's side. Loki had bespelled her to sleep, but it was simplicity itself to extend the spell so that she would not rouse as he visited. Whispering softly, he conjured his own lifestone—an ornate thing covered with runes—and made his own judgments.

Frigga tiptoed in behind him. "And?"

"The child is half-Jotun," Odin murmured. "He is coming early because of his size and because his mother is simply too hot-blooded to nourish him further."

"Then do what must be done," Frigga whispered.

Odin felt the beads of sweat on his forehead as he began murmuring and summoning the Odinforce. Ever so delicately, he began the tedious process of changing the child to Aesir. Frigga wiped the sweat from Sigyn's brow and tucked quilts around her chest and arms when she shivered.

Suddenly, Odin reared back with a cry. His hands seemed to smoke briefly and he looked at Frigga with a pained expression. "He is his father's son," he chuckled without mirth. Frigga raised an eyebrow. "Little Narvi has magic of his own and has refused the transformation," Odin explained softly.

Frigga cursed quietly. "What do we do now?"

Odin nodded. "He will appear Aesir, but that is all. He will be tall and strong—perhaps stronger than Thor. From Loki he has inherited an affinity of the arcane." Frigga stroked sleeping Sigyn's brow. "This will have to do. He may not survive the birth-"

"Will Sigyn?" Frigga hissed. "What will Loki do if either of them are harmed?"

"He will live with it," Odin frowned. "Just as I live with Fin's death." He thoughtfully considered his daughter-by-marriage. "Would it be a mercy to-?"

"Don't say it," Frigga ordered. "Don't even think it." She took one of his hands. "Let the birth happen. Narvi may die or may live. Sigyn may die or live. It is a risk all women must take to bring new life."

Odin seemed to shake himself awake. "I will not do more. Let the morrow come."

Frigga smiled. "It is late. You will need to see to Thor tomorrow without the benefit of Loki and his nonsense to lighten the mood."

"When the throne is Thor's," Odin smiled. "Then I shall take you to the cabin in the mountains..."

"Promises, promises," she laughed with a saucy wink.

In the next moment, Odin and Frigga were back at their spots in the sitting chamber. With a wave of Gungir, all returned as they were. The assistant stared at her devices. Sigyn slept and Loki blearily lolled in his chair. The midwife frowned at them, lost in her train of thought for a moment. It would seem to all that they simply had let time get away from them.

Without looking at the midwife, Odin said, "I believe that you are right. We will retire and gird our loins for the morning."

The midwife gaped for a moment as the king and queen swept out without another word. Loki snored softly from his chair and she covered him with a quilt as she tried to collect her thoughts. The assistant called her to examine a reading and to note that the graphs seemed to level out unexpectedly. The midwife untangled Sigyn from the blankets that were bunched around her chest and arms and she only shrugged—it happened that way sometimes.

Loki slept unexpectedly peacefully through the night watches and well into the morning. When he awoke, his throat was parched and his head ached slightly, but otherwise he was hale and hearty. Except, this overstuffed chair...this is where he had passed the night? He swallowed heavily and swept the quilt aside and strode in to grab some clothes and visit Sigyn.

Sigyn was awake. Blessedly his spell had worn off—otherwise she would still be asleep or worse since he had very, very little recollection of casting the thing. She frowned at the midwife, her cheeks rosy and flushed and her tiny fists balled up. "I feel perfectly well and my son is perfectly well. I told you that we were doing much better and you said that I could walk if I was up to it!"

"My lady," the midwife sniffed. "You leveled out late last night—well after the King and Queen had come. I do not believe that it will do you well to be exerting yourself unless you wish your child to come right now."

Loki chuckled softly. "Perhaps we should listen, my dove."

"Loki?" Sigyn gaped for a moment. She recovered and then looked confused again. "You are agreeing with her?"

Loki laughed outright. She could probably count on one hand the number of times he had agreed with anything. "Narvi rests within you," he chuckled. "At least let the boy finish his nap."

Sigyn pouted. "I-I-I've got a thousand things to do! I can't be lying around all the day long like a sick dog. There's the cellar work, the new shelter on the eastern side of town, the-" She carefully did not mention the coronation.

"And none of it is as important as you," Loki said softly, dropping a kiss on her forehead. His balance deserted him for a swimming moment, but then righted itself. He grimaced as he forced himself to stand again.

Sigyn sniffed the air and frowned. "Loki—have you...been drinking?"

Loki sniffed and noticed the air of feasting that still lingered around him. He chuckled, in unexpected good humor. "Allow me to bathe, my dove, and I will return with breakfast and a good book or two."

"Aye," the midwife agreed. "That would be a goodness, I think. Something quiet that can be accomplished by laying still."

Loki paused meaningfully. "So glad you approve," he bowed. And then just to tease the older woman, he vanished completely. Breakfast was being cleared—had he truly slept that late?-but he claimed fresh bread, juice, jam and honey, an a bowl of cut fruits. He ordered eggs and more of the potent, herb filled sausage he loved as well as a portion of cheese and a fresh carafe of water to be delivered to Sigyn's room. The cooks undoubtedly would be in a fine snit with this late meal. Under other circumstances, he would have ordered the late breakfast sheerly to watch the cooks stew and fume.

He bumped into Frigga, almost spilling the tray of treats he had gathered. "Mother—how goes it with you?"

She cast a rather knowing eye up and down his frame. "Better, than I would say it goes with you." She smiled at him. "Have you truly only now risen? What of Sigyn?" She sniffed delicately. "And...have you...perhaps considered a bath?" Loki grimaced and she took the tray from him. "I'll take this to her and you can get cleaned up."

Loki sniffed again, frowning. He smelled not too bad, and certainly not as bad as Thor had smelled after some of his feasts. "It's not that bad," he snapped, but his eyes twinkled merrily.

Frigga shrugged and whisked the tray away with a laugh. "It will do me good to speak with her about the budget for the shelter."

"Your discussion ends when I come in," he chuckled. "Otherwise you'll only encourage insurrection and the dragon guarding the princess will have a fit."

Frigga stopped at that and turned to look at him curiously, only to find that he had vanished.

Loki spent a goodly amount of time in the common baths. The hot water restored him and the masseuse spent a great deal of time smoothing oil into his skin and loosening his muscles. For a while, he was able to forget the duties of the day. Undoubtedly his mother would remind him, but for now, he was pleasantly anticipating some time doting on his adorable wife.

He was clean, in fresh clothes, hair combed and ready to be presentable as he stood at the hallway leading to his and Thor's apartments. Surprisingly, Sif stood at attention at the door, watching the hallway and listening with a wistful smile at the clucking and laughter inside the door. "Lady Sif," Loki greeted.

Sif looked startled for a moment and stood again at attention. "Prince Loki," she greeted in return. Loki only stared at her, waiting for explanation. "Odin summoned most of the guard to review their places for the ceremonies tomorrow. As I have only one place to be, I have been assigned to guard Sigyn for a time."

Loki smirked at her. "I see," he said softly. "Care to come inside?"

Sif only smiled stiffly and shook her head.

Loki smiled and went through the doorway, dodging as the patrol came clanking through the hallway. The doorway to the bedroom was open and the assistant was laughing as she came out. He caught her gaze and she flushed and gestured inside with a low curtsey.

He went to the bedroom, finding Frigga lounging in a chair, reading from a book of silly rhymes and childhood songs. The midwife chuckled at some of them and Sigyn plucked at the sheets. Loki settled on the bed beside his wife and simply held her hand and listened as Frigga launched into another round of stories from his childhood.

Meanwhile, Thor sat in Odin's study, trying hard to look attentive. He could easily name a thousand places he'd rather have been than listening one more time to the advice and words of wisdom that his father was trying to impart. He was growing more and more uncomfortable with the praises that Odin heaped on him—it felt like he was being fattened for the position of king like a goose is fattened for the carving.

He envied Loki's day today. What he wouldn't have given to have been allowed to sleep in after the feasting! And then to be allowed to sit with Sigyn and keep her company. Not that there had been much choice there—when he had passed early that morning, that termagant of a midwife was ordering the guards to be silent and had the audacity to wave him away as though he were a kitchen waif. From what the swooning assistant said, Loki had been quietly ordered to be on hand to ensure that Sigyn remained abed and quiet.

"Have you been listening, Thor?" Odin asked.

Thor flushed a ruddy hue and shook his head with a smile. "My mind is wandering over all that you have told me, Father." He gestured towards an illustration of the Tree of Life and the Nine Realms in its branches. "How do you manage it? When do you sleep?"

Odin glanced at Gungir, unwilling to look his eldest in the eye. "I suppose that I should speak of it now, so that you are not caught unawares." He nodded to himself. "I don't sleep, save for the Odinsleep. And when you are king, it will be the Thorsleep."

Thor's brow pleated in confusion. "What do you mean, Father?"

Odin smirked. "When you are king—when the forces that I command come through you—then you will not sleep either, save for the time when you are forced to in order to replenish your own natural powers. The Odinforce allows me to stay awake to tend to the affairs of Asgard and the rest of the nine realms." His smile grew. "There would not be time otherwise and I do not have the benefit of a brother to shoulder the weight of the throne with me."

Thor smiled widely. "I see."

Odin nodded. "The Odinforce has allowed me to remain vigilant when others falter and must rest. It allows me to have a singular grasp on the problems and resolutions that I must face. It is not always pleasant—to hold another's life in your hands and know that you must judge it. However, it is Frigga that allows me to hold on to my better qualities of mercy and patience."

"Mother?" Thor chuckled. "She would be pleased to hear you admit that."

"And don't you tell her," Odin warned with a conspiratorial grin. "She wields too much power as it is."

Thor laughed outright. "That only tempts me to rush to her side the quicker."

Odin laughed, too. "You would have to fight quite a few to get there since she visits with Sigyn."

Thor grunted. "Many come to the palace to see Sigyn and to pay their respects."

"That is not a bad thing," Odin said softly. "It shows that the people are willing to accept her. And keep in mind, Thor, that the people allow us to rule. True our family gained the throne with force and by strength and uniting all of the realms, but it the people decided to resist-"

"There would be great bloodshed and tragedy," Thor said softly. "The throne would topple."

"And the realms would split apart into factions and war would follow our people."

"I will take care," Thor nodded.

"Good," Odin said. "And when you are king-"

"What will you do?" asked Thor suddenly. "What will become of Odin Borson?"

Odin smiled wistfully and gestured to a map. "I will stay long enough to ensure that the people are loyal and will follow Thor Odinson and then I will retire." Thor arched his eyebrows in silent curiosity. "Frigga and I will go to the mountain palace in the north. There we will live out the rest of our years in relative peace and harmony and loyal to the throne."

Thor smiled. "Don't tell Mother. I believe that she is counting on frequent visits to the markets to buy things for her grandchildren."

"Speaking of grandchildren," Odin said, rising with a creak in his bones. "I should like to go see Sigyn myself." He waved at the door. "Go and enjoy your last hours of freedom."

Thor stood and bowed deeply. "I am honored, Sire."

Odin smirked. "I hope that you will still say that a year from now when the throne weighs down your shoulders and the crown weights your smile." He watched his eldest leave and considered his life.

He had always been proud of Thor. What wasn't there to be proud of? He was brave, strong and everything a good king should be. But was he a good man? He was headstrong and could be bloody thick-headed, even stubborn at times. While he did not lack for gaiety and good spirits, he sometimes seemed to lack the somber thoughtfulness that had been Odin's own companion many a late night. Was he ready? Was he truly the best fit for the throne? And how would he know that Thor was the best fit? Thor had been molded into a king from birth—was it truly what he would want if he held his destiny in his own hands? And how would he—or anyone—know what Thor's choice might have been unless Thor had the opportunity to wield his destiny for himself?

Yet one's destiny was a heady and weighty thing. He had made choices of his own destiny—changing and shaping his path as he had created the nine realms. When Frigga had birthed Thor—he had paused for celebration that his own works would find continuance and the realms would have a guardian after himself. He did—despite snide comments to the contrary—remember the heady feeling of choosing his own path and making his own way.

Yet—Thor had not had these things. He had been raised as the prince of Asgard—had never known a day's want, a desire unfulfilled or unfulfillable, or an uncertainty in his future. He had not had cause to question the rightness of his path or his actions. Instead, he had followed where Odin had led with a son's loyalty and joyful heart.

So it remained, to Odin's weary eyes, that Thor might truly need to see these things. He would need to know want, uncertainty and indecision. His son would need—to truly understand and be a good king—to experience what it was to not know the path ahead. To "muddle through" as the common folk put it. But how? He could hardly be sent to Vanheim or one of the other realms—he would yet be a prince there and command a prince's loyalty and rights. Odin could hardly see sending him to Hel—he might well never return. So where could Thor be sent where he would not be known as a prince—where he would not be worshiped or obeyed blindly?

There were only questions with no answers as Odin considered the treaties littering his desk.

Loki escorted Frigga out of the bedroom and into the sitting room later that day. She had kept them both company with a seeming endless supply of stories of the mischief that he had been in as a youth. Some were sorrowful—lessons he had paid dearly to learn. Some were cheery as his mischief led to laughter.

"I hope that you don't mind me spending time with Sigyn," she said in passing.

"Not at all," he nodded. "I think it keeps her from fretting." He grimaced. Something felt out of place with the birth, but he could not put his finger on it. Even since they had visited, the readings and appearances were of a normal—albeit large—child waiting to be born. Sigyn had not even spoken of being abnormally cold.

Frigga paused and smiled at her younger son. She softly put her hand on his shoulder and kissed his cheek. "She is a darling," she smiled. "I had at first thought the worst—that she was some tavern slattern, but you have proven wiser than I in judging her. She is good for Asgard and for you."

Loki was about to make some comment when a knock at the door stopped him. With a grimace, he gestured for his mother to wait a moment and went to open the door. Odin loomed in the doorway, with what appeared to be two collections of flowers and a small package of sweets in his arms. With a grumpy sound, he dumped them into Loki's arms and strode in to kiss Frigga.

"While I am truly flattered," Loki smirked in bemusement. "I really don't think you're my type." He sniffed the flowers. "And I'm spoken for."

Odin flushed red and Frigga dared to chuckle, "My son, I haven't a doubt that they are for Sigyn."

Odin nodded. "I met some of the ambassadors from Vanheim this afternoon in preparation for the coronation. They were beside themselves to gift the princess of Asgard with these tokens and one seemed almost heartbroken that she was not available to receive them."

Loki conjured vases to hold the bouquets. One was a collection of dark purple irises and golden yellow narcissus and the other was a rainbow of various roses. The package of candies slipped from his fingers as a rose thorn caught his cuff and he curled his foot up to catch it on his ankle. With a kick, it flew up and he grabbed it.

"I should like to visit with Sigyn, if you please," Odin said.

Loki dropped the gifts on a nearby table. "I will see if the midwife will allow it." He rolled his eyes and grumbled in a goodhearted voice, "Somehow, I as her husband am not worthy to render judgment on whether she should have visitors."

Odin did crack a smile at that. "The same thing happened to me. I was actually sent out of the room to fetch various things for most of the labor."

Loki snorted and went back to speak with the midwife.

"My dear," Odin said. "I...I have spoken as king for what may be the last time."

Frigga frowned and led Odin to the comfortable chairs. "It must be hard—letting go after holding on so long."

Odin only nodded with a bleary expression. "My son does not realize how heavy the crown will be on his brow."

"He will learn in time," Frigga whispered. "And he will have Loki to help him." She smirked. "And if Loki can learn to let Sigyn breathe without his presence, then she will be here as well to help." Odin nodded uncertainly but grasped Frigga's hands wearily. "You are tired, my love. The Odinsleep will be a blessing to you."

"Indeed," Odin said softly. "I will rest at last."

Frigga frowned and said sympathetically, "These months that you have put off the Odinsleep have drained you."

Odin leaned close. "I would not have missed them for anything. Not Thor's coronation. Not Sigyn and Loki's wedding. Not the birth of this child." He sighed deeply. "But I am weary—weary of worry and doubt and constant questions that will have no easy answer."

Frigga only nodded as Loki emerged with a smile. "It seems that we are granted reprieve and will be allowed audience." He rubbed his hands together and said with mock seriousness, "Do you suppose we bow or genuflect or just grovel when we enter?"

Frigga rolled her eyes and Odin chuffed out a short laugh. With a heavy sigh, the Allfather said, "Then let us visit the lady before our privilege is recanted."

Sigyn was clothed in a fresh, emerald green silk night gown and sat in their bed, propped with pillows. The little enchanted stone Loki had given her was tight in one hand and a book was in another. She shifted slightly and stuffed the book under a pillow nearby, flushing and hoping no one caught a glimpse of the naughty picture on the cover. She nodded—the only way one could recognize the Allfather when one was confined on one's back—and said with a smile, "Your Majesty."

Odin smiled and came to her, holding out his hands so that she could feel them. "I am glad to see you. It does an old man's heart good to see his daughter-by-marriage and his grandchild so well." He perched on a chair by the bed. "How has your day been?"

Sigyn smiled. "We have been mainly discussing the mischief that Loki has been as a youth." She flushed and a little frown of anger crossed her face. "Of course, it is agreed that he will have little time for such nonsense once Narvi is here."

Odin nodded thoughtfully. "It is true that everything changes when a child enters a union." He smiled softly. "Sometimes it will seem as though you will not have a thought of your own, let alone a moment to rest."

Frigga came to stand by Odin. "I hope that nothing I have said has overly upset you," she murmured. "I had only thought to while away a bit of time telling you of Loki's childhood."

Sigyn swallowed heavily. Truthfully, she felt much more inclined to listen to Loki and his tales now that she had slept so deeply and felt so well. But there was so much—so much anger and resentfulness and accusations. She honestly didn't know whether or not to hold him close or to punch him in the gut. "I have enjoyed your company," she finally replied.

Loki watched from the corner of the room as his father beamed at Sigyn. He was doting on Sigyn as any grandfather-to-be might. When had he gotten so old? So tired? Of course, the Allfather was not feeble, but there was an aura of fretful weariness about him. Had the years gone so quickly that he had not noticed?

He frowned at the package of chocolates in his hand. Yet...they didn't even seem to notice that he was not a part of this little circle, nor that he was in the room... He felt a prickle down his spine, a brief tickle really, of magic as it pooled around Sigyn's hands. "Purple feathers," he said suddenly.

Sigyn paused and for a moment, the rush of magic seemed to pause around her too. With an embarrassed flush, she brought one hand to cover her face. "Is this really the time to bring that up?"

Odin glanced at Frigga in confusion, but Frigga shrugged. She was as mystified as he was about 'purple feathers'. Odin recovered and cleared his throat. "What about purple feathers?"

Sigyn groaned, hiding her face with both hands. "It's terribly embarrassing." She took a deep breath and dropped her hands down dramatically. "I...I was pecked rather soundly by one of my father's chickens. I said something foul to it and the poor thing turned purple and laid green eggs." She tried to laugh and shrug. "My father took some of the purple feathers and sold them since we could not sell the eggs."

Odin's eye lit up in sudden understanding. "Really?" he choked out as laughter crowded in his throat.

"Someone bought them," Sigyn continued. "I don't know how or who. But afterward, the chicken molted and had rust brown feathers-"

"Ah-HA!" Odin barked, pointing at Sigyn and grinning madly at Frigga. "I told you that the feathers were purple!"

Frigga's laughter choked her. "Oh...my dear..." She took at glance at her younger son and went shamefaced. "Loki—I'm so sorry-"

"What is it?" Sigyn asked innocently.

Odin's laughter filled the room. "I bought a rather beautiful straw hat with a purple satin ribbon on the crown. I paid the milliner to add a ribbon rosette with a golden medallion in the middle and then to surround it all with the most amazing purple-"

"Purple feathers!" Sigyn gaped.

Frigga laughed as well, but only nervously. "But when I opened the box, Sigyn, there were the most common, rust brown chicken feathers on it."

Sigyn groaned and threw herself back into her pillows. "No...oh, no."

Odin smirked at his wife, tickled for the truth come out. Frigga choked back her tears and forced a laugh. "Some blamed Loki for it—that he had ruined it or bespelled it." She smiled nervously. "And now we find-"

"It was all my fault," Sigyn groaned again. She shuddered. "I suppose that I could try again for purple feathers, but we might end up with a worse result." Her voice hitched. "The poor dear thing might end up bald. Or a rat. Or something worse."

"I would not let that happen," Loki snorted.

Sigyn seemed to consider his words carefully. At last she said, "I believe that you would try to stop it from happening to prevent harm to Asgard."

"Indeed," Odin chortled. His smile extended to Frigga. "I told you that I had purchased purple."

Frigga huffed. "Sigyn—this is what happens when a man is proven right. He becomes unbearably huffy about it."

Sigyn laughed at that thought. "I doubt my Loki would do that."

"Still," Odin said, standing. "I believe that I must give Loki my apologies." Loki looked up at him warily. The Allfather had so rarely—if ever—needed to apologize for anything that the circumstances and protocols were almost unknown. Odin offered his hand and smile and said, "My son—it seems that I have been gravely mistaken about you in this." Loki took his hand warily. "I allowed rumors and gossip to flourish and did not pay attention when you said that you had done nothing and for that I apologize."

Loki shook the hand somberly. "I...accept."

The door to the sitting area burst open and Thor's voice swelled. "Loki! Brother!"

"In here, dear," Frigga said with a smile in her voice and a quelling look at the midwife. "We are in the bedroom keeping Sigyn company."

Thor strode in, tossing Mjolnir up and down in the air. "It is the last night before the coronation and the Warriors Three and I were going to go riding in the woods. Perhaps camp overnight. We would like to bring Sif along—if you can spare her."

"Of course," Loki nodded, dropping the Allfather's hand. "I will get my cloak—"

Thor flushed bright red. "Err... we had intended to go off and let you and Mother and Father keep Sigyn company."

Loki stiffened. "I see."

Thor looked into Loki's eyes, unable to read what was in them. Loki hid his thoughts and feeling so deep some said he had none. "We meant no ill-will, Loki. Only to be out one last time..."

Loki looked at him as though he saw a stranger. "Of course." He gestured to a chair against the wall. "I will be here, apparently."

Thor looked at him and nodded slowly. Loki must have been in a strange mood today. Perhaps it was nerves? "We will be back early tomorrow morning in time to bathe and prepare for the ceremonies."

"Go on, son," Odin said.

Thor bowed and then bowed again at Sigyn. "And for you, dear sister, I will bring back a gift. Would you like a pelt to wrap your son in or perhaps something else?"

"Oh, go on with you," Sigyn smiled uneasily. "You hardly need to be worrying about me." She gestured to the room. "I am well accounted for."

"As you say," Thor nodded. He leaned over to peck Frigga on the cheek. "I will see you all on the morrow." With a flourish of scarlet cape, he let himself out.

Loki sat heavily in the chair and watched as his father began gently speaking with Sigyn again. His father clung to her hands and his mother perched on the edge of the bed, adding comments as the Allfather chattered on. Again she was regaled with stories of great battles and history and stories of his youthful pranks.

The afternoon stretched into evening. Frigga and Odin left to attend dinner, and to send up a generous platter of food for him and another platter of simpler fare for Sigyn. The assistant was dismissed for the night and when a second assistant arrived, the midwife left briefly to go home and tend some chores there. Sigyn took a nap, dozing over her book with his little stone clutched tightly in her hand.

Annoyed, he stood and left the room to pace the hallways. Damn his luck. He suddenly saw the wisdom of Thor and Odin being told to take him feasting—at least it passed the time. Loki saw Kendal out of the corner of his eye as she hauled a heavy bucket of water to clean a balcony. "So that's where she was re-assigned," he thought. With a flick of his hand, he made a swarm of mosquitoes appear around her. As she swatted and cursed the things, she saw him, toying with the little package in his hands. She screamed in wordless anger and ran back inside, trailed by a few of the little bugs.

He laughed a little, crushing the package in his hand. Without another thought, he dumped its crushed contents onto the balcony and kicked the bucket. The water splashed over the sugar candies and the chocolates—softened by his hands' heat—seemed to only plop there. In as little as an hour, there would be a horrendous mess for Kendal to clean up.

The morning dawned early and seemed heavy with rain despite the bright sunlight. Loki forced himself to rise from the couch in a salon that he had slept on and go to the bathing chambers. Thor was already there, attended by two servants.

"Brother," Thor greeted as one of them poured hot water over his soapy back. "I have brought your lady back a fine pelt."

Loki only shrugged and eased into the hot water. A single servant attended him, but at least one of Thor's lackeys had brought forward two goblets of wine.

After soaking in the warm water and taking turns being massaged, the collection of servants dressed them in their ceremonial armor. Loki scowled at the helm that Thor had chosen.

Thor noticed the frown. "My totem animal is the ram and the design is meant to echo that as my feathers echo the Allfather's raven totem."

Loki scowled at it again. He preferred the feathered helm Thor had been given. "It looks like cow horns," he finally said.

Thor chuckled and shrugged into his cape. "It does not. It looks...distinguished."

"To a bull, perhaps," Loki grumbled.

They walked in companionable silence down the hallways. The palace was abnormally quiet—everyone was awaiting Thor's big moment in the grand great hall. Thor paused for a moment and put his hand on Loki's shoulder. "Brother," he rumbled softly. "Do not think that I mean to forget you on this day." Loki only nodded and stared down the shadowy hallway. "I will remember you and Sigyn always."

Loki swallowed heavily and opened his mouth when a servant came running up to him with a folded paper in his hand. With a bow and a muttered apology, he handed it to Loki. Glancing over, the sorceror looked at the unfamiliar writing with a frown.

"I have a message from the princess," the man muttered.

"Sigyn?" Thor boomed anxiously. "She is well? The baby? What about-"

Loki gestured impatiently and interrupted. "What is it, man?"

"She...she is well and sends her wishes to you and hopes that you will enjoy yourself at the ceremony and feast following." The servant shrugged. "The midwife gave me the paper to give to you."

Loki nodded uncertainly. Thor frowned and drew his hand over his face roughly. Their eyes met and Thor seemed anxious—almost pale. His elder brother demanded, "Tell me that Sigyn is unwell and I will give you leave... No—I will cancel this and we will go to her. I-"

"She is well," Loki said. "It cannot be of great import if it is only a written paper." He threw a steely glance at the servant and flicked the message open. "She is well and slept peacefully. But I will need to return to the room after the ceremony."

"Is that all?" Thor demanded. "Surely there is more detail!" He snatched the paper and read it himself. Then fixing the servant in his flashing blue gaze he demanded again, "Is there a problem?"

"N-n-no, Your Highness," the man stammered. "Not that I know of."

"Bah!" Thor snorted. He waved the man away. "We must-"

"Let's just get this over with," Loki snapped, snatching the paper back. "You get the crown and then I will go see what is happening." He tucked the great staff he had been given into the crook of his elbow and pulled at the close collar around his neck. "The sooner we are out of this the better."

"Are you sure, Loki?" Thor asked. "Are you sure that we should continue? Tell me that we are needed elsewhere and I will end this." He swallowed heavily, wiping his hands on his pants. "If you go now, no one will be able to gainsay it and after I am king, I will silence any who try."

Sigyn gasped in agony as Narvi pressed suddenly and sharply against her innards, dragging her out of a pleasant nap. A great wash of water flowed from her. The midwife darted in from the sitting area and gave a little cry as she grabbed a towel to begin cleaning up. The instruments and devices all showed impossible readings, but as Sigyn panted and wailed, they saw that the grandson of Odin was not going to wait further to be born.

Loki stuffed the note in a pocket and nodded. Truthfully, though, Thor's brashness increased as they went further down the hallway. He took a goblet of wine and threw it into one of the huge lit floor torch, causing a great fireball. He all but stomped down the steps, glancing around nervously and seeming to twitch at every shadow. When a servant drew close with a goblet of wine, Loki flicked his wrist and caused it to appear to be a goblet of snakes instead. The servant dropped the platter and ran. Thor actually laughed at the prank and made some smart remark about the horns on Loki's helm. He even insisted that Loki enter the hall first as he gathered his nerves and again wiped his sweating palms on his pants.

Sigyn felt every muscle protest as Narvi bore down inside her. She gasped in agony and was only able to curl up a bit to help bear down as well.

If Loki did not know better, he would have supposed Thor to have fallen in love with Sigyn. He considered it—how Thor's eyes were anxious and how he had insisted on reading the damn note that told them nothing and how his palms had sweated. Thor—known to battle giants and trolls with ease—was sweating over a piece of paper. Who would have guessed? Who would now guess that Loki's teeth were gritted as tightly as millstones at the thought?

Sigyn waved the midwife's assistant away and told her to get a washcloth from the bathroom. Balling her fists into knots in the sheets, she wailed and pushed down again. Some hidden instinct was guiding her, telling her to push...

Loki took his walk down the aisle at a stately, princely pace. It mattered not one whit that the cheering seemed to lessen he told himself. He bowed to his Mother—who winked at him. Then to his father, who nodded solemnly. With his steps slowly measured, he took his place on the dais. Loki stared at the floor, his hand tight around his staff. He did not hear them cheering for Thor. Did not see Thor walk past, tossing Mjolnir up and down like a child. He was not even watching as Thor knelt before Odin to take his vows.

Sigyn could only vaguely hear the midwife as she encouraged and cajoled her to rest, then to push, then to rest again. She sucked in a lungful of air as Narvi twisted in her and found that she could not breathe as a wave of cold swept over her. The cold seemed to steal the breath from her lungs and to cramp her muscles. "Loki!" she called out in vain as she pressed down again.

Loki felt more than heard the hall grow silent as Odin began the traditional oaths. Thor played his part—smirking and smiling as though he hadn't a care in the world. Odin smiled at him and Frigga grinned impishly. The Warriors Three stood at attention, dressed in their best. Sif stood proudly, watching Thor closely as he took his vows to Asgard.

Sigyn felt the child moving and heard the words of the midwife as though from a distance. Her chest could not draw in enough of the frozen air and the midwife gave some sort of howl. Narvi was coming out and there was nothing anyone could do as she pushed the immense child from her womb. And it was so cold! Distantly she prayed that Loki was soon done—that he would return to her. Why had she spurned him? Why had she been so proud and angry? She bore down, praying for help as gruff, larger voices muttered and the air grew colder still.

Loki could not bear it a moment longer when he heard the words "Frost Giants."

It could not be. There could be no way... Loki snapped to attention as the hall went mad with fear. Thor and the Warriors and Sif crowded around Odin who led them to a doorway in the back of the room. Frigga had been hustled away by her personal guards. With a wave, he teleported to the lower hallways which led to the family wing and to the weapons vault.

The guards were frozen—dead against the walls, as he arrived. The Frost Giants had a clear path directly to the weapons' vault. He stared at the lacy frost patterns on the wall distantly, wondering if Thor was actually king at this point. His magic formed a shield around him as he began slowly creeping to follow the trail of carnage.

Odin and Thor came up to him, panting slightly at the run. The Warriors Three and Sif shouted for them to take care and darted down the hallways to the family wing. The trio grimly followed the pathway of frozen dead bodies to the vault. Odin swallowed heavily, frowning at the dead—both Joten and Asgardian.

Sif and the Warriors raced through the hallways. The guards had been above for the most part, but the one or two that had remained here and there were dead. None of them had wanted to see the damage—only note that it was done and to hopefully prevent further deaths.

Sif let out a strangled cry as they emerged into the hallway reserved for the family apartments. Four of the Star Guards were frozen against the columns. One more was...in pieces on the floor. Hogun only grunted, but Fandral's eyes shimmered as he pressed forward. "They are heading for the apartments," she said, running again down the hall.

"What on Asgard could they want there?" Fandral mused darkly.

"What does it matter?" Volstagg growled. "They will pay!"

Sif grunted as they turned the corner and came to Frigga's door. The guards that stood there were unhurt, but alarmed. One of them was pale as paper as he gestured down the hallway. She continued down the hallway.

"Damn Loki," she cursed. "He's probably got some trinket or something that they are after hidden in his room."

They turned the corner to the Princes' hallway and saw another pair of guards, frozen. From Loki's bedroom came a sharp wail and a Frost Giant stepped out with a small bundle, wrapped in a thick pelt. The Giant looked at them and snarled. A second emerged and threw down an egg-shaped thing that exploded into cold light and the Giants fled through it.

Sif wailed, her knees wobbly as she looked inside the apartment. There were all manner of things frozen—including two bouquets of roses, daffodils and irises. Stepping gingerly through the wreckage, she willed herself to look. To see what had been done.

The midwife's frozen corpse was against a cracked wall that was lacy with frost. The closet door was frozen shut and someone was banging on it, begging to be released. Fandral sighed and went to pry the ice from the doorposts. Hogun prowled the corners, looking in the spare bedroom and closet. Volstagg charged down the hallway to see if there were more giants lurking and to bring help.

So it was left to her to see to Sigyn. Time slowed and warped around her—mere seconds stretching into what felt like hours. She didn't dare look—even when she thought she heard a soft cry. It hurt somehow to think of Sigyn as another macabre glacier on the bed. Slowly, she turned to see.

Sigyn panted and twitched on the bed. Her breath came out in billows like smoke and the covers were tangled all around her. The blankets were frozen and icy and had stiffened into effective fetters, holding her splayed legs open. Icicles made a spiky canopy over her. Sif let out an happy cry to see that she lived.

"Sigyn!" she shouted.

Sigyn panted from the bed. "Sif?" she croaked. "Lady Sif?"

"I'm here!" she said, tugging on the blankets. One snapped like a twig in her hand and a leg jerked madly. "I'll get you out."

Sigyn wailed again as she pressed down again. The afterbirth slid from her—feeling almost scalding against her skin after the brush with the monsters. She drew in a breath, choking on the smell of blood. "Go... G-g-get the King. Get Loki..."

Sif fumbled around and found a cloak to draw over Sigyn's shivering form. The blood nauseated her, but she pulled an arm over her shoulders. Sigyn's weakness was profound and she only slumped into a shivering pile. Fandral finally managed to pry open the door—actually, break open the door—and the assistant fled. Coming back to Sif, he picked Sigyn up brought her out.

Volstagg came back with a black look on his face as they came out. "No one else but her..." was all he said.

Fandral cuddled the messy form of Sigyn against his chest. "She is cold," he muttered to his friends. "We must warm her."

"Thor's bathing chambers," Sif decided. "She can be warm enough there and be cleaned up."

The group huddled around the weeping princess and made their way into the hall. Blood dripped from Sigyn's gown and landed on the floor to form bright red dots. Hogun ran up, looking at the blood wildly and Volstagg nodded at Sigyn.

Sif opened the door to Thor's chambers. Like the man himself, they were masculine and dashing and bold in primarily red and silver. She led the way through the sitting room, the bedroom and closet and the private bathing chamber.

Hogun's eyes went wide and he shook his head. "Better to go to the common baths."

Fandral nodded in agreement. "Your heart is in the right place, Lady Sif, but Loki will-"

"Loki will what?" Loki snapped angrily from the doorway.

The group turned to look at him. His eyes were snapping emerald fire and one hand was clenched in a fist that was alight with magical fire. He looked at the huddled form in Fandral's arms and his eyes went wide, his face went paper white and sweat beaded on his lip. With a low growl, he asked, "What happened?"

Sigyn struggled in Fandral's arms. "Loki? Loki! Please..."

Fandral came forward and gently set Sigyn down. Sigyn leaned against Loki, grabbing his decorated armor and almost stopped shivering. But her knees were still weak and her muscles still locked with cramps and she fell to the floor. Loki dropped to the floor beside her.

"Please, Loki..." she whispered. "Please go after Narvi..."

Loki frowned at her, noting the blood droplet trail and the stained and torn gown. "What happened, Sigyn?"

She only shivered harder, grunting as her arms instinctively went around herself. "I...I felt Narvi coming. Then the room got cold and I heard the midwife scream. Narvi arrived quickly and then... The Frost Giants, Loki! The Frost Giants have Narvi."

Loki jumped to his feet as Thor came in. "We go to Jotenheim!" he barked at Thor. At Sif, he glared and growled, "See that she is well and then join us at the Bifrost!"

Thor looked set to go to Sigyn and tried to push past his furious younger brother only to be shoved back. "But Sigyn-!"

Loki brushed past and stomped down the hall to where the Allfather was waiting in Frigga's quarters.

Thor looked at Sigyn and gestured for Sif to come closer. "He will get himself killed going to Jotenheim alone. Sif, stay with the princess. She is to use these chambers to rest and get cleaned up." They heard Loki shrieking down the hallway. "I will go to Loki."

"We will come with you," Fandral said with a smile.

Thor nodded and they left Sif to deal with Sigyn. Sigyn shuddered and felt for a nearby chair. Stumbling and falling, she drug herself closer to the fireplace that Thor kept lit, nearly kicking Sif several times. Her throat was on fire and she could only whisper, "Go with them..."

Sif started. "I have to-"

"Go with them," Sigyn shuddered. "Bring back my baby." Sif stared at her and tried to approach her to help her stand. Sigyn kicked again towards the sound of tapping boots. With an evil growl, she snapped. "I order it."

Sif jerked away at the rare bite of malevolence in the princess's voice and ran down the hallway. In front of Frigga's door, Odin bellowed at his sons. "I forbid it! We will see to the palace and our people first-"

"Narvi will not live that long!" Loki snapped, both hands fisted and on fire.

"Narvi will live," Odin said calmly. "Laughey will not dare to kill him." He sighed heavily, his palm rubbing his one good eye. "I will go to Jotenheim as soon as the palace is settled."

"Why do you think this?" Loki demanded angrily. "Why do you think that he won't kill a prince of Asgard? They have already invaded us. They have started a war."

"And I will end it!" Thor snapped.

Sif slid quietly to Frigga and whispered, "Your Majesty—please go to Sigyn. She is in Thor's chambers." Frigga wrung her hands and nodded. Attempting to look composed she rushed down the hallway, brushing past Odin and Thor and Loki.

Thor growled at Odin again, standing by his brother. Odin looked at the two of them and sighed, "I have loved Sigyn and her child as well. But we must tend her and we must tend to the people of Asgard before a vendetta-" He growled low. "I will personally see to Sigyn and her child as soon as we know the full extent of the damage. The Destroyer protected the weapons vaults. What if the giants have made other thefts?"

Thor nodded slowly. "We need to know the full extent before we leave..." He sighed deeply, Mjolnir still clutched in his hand. "We will gather the remaining guards to the palace in case they mean to attack while we give chase..." Loki stared at his brother wildly and snarled, disappearing in a puff of magic. Thor felt his anger grow hot and he turned to his father again. "Please...Father—let me and the Warriors go and bring back Narvi. Loki is not thinking clearly—that I will grant—but he is not without cause."

Odin looked at the earnest face of his eldest son. Sadly, he shook his head. "Son—I already know that Laughey will keep Narvi alive. He means to pay back an old hurt." At Thor's confused expression, he tried to smile. "Gather your friends and I will see that Sigyn is settled."

Thor frowned and considered his father's words. Odin did have a way of knowing things that weren't immediately clear. "If you are sure that he means to keep Narvi alive, then I will do as you command."

"I am sure," Odin sighed sadly.

Frigga was nauseated at the sight of Sigyn as she huddled around a footstool in front of the fireplace in Thor's room. There seemed to be blood everywhere and all over everything. The servants were terrified to come to the hall, but some few had listened to her instructions and were cleaning up. Loki's apartments were ruins of ice and frost, of course, and there would need to be serious renovations to make them habitable again. Sigyn's strength was depleted and she put up no resistance as Frigga poked and prodded her to Thor's private bathing chamber.

Sigyn sat numbly and silently in the warm water as the servants tried to clean her up. She hissed as they tried to touch her thighs where there was still blood and the tears that came from delivering Narvi's huge frame, but made no other protest. Frigga sent for a healer and wrapped Sigyn up in one of her own robes and then in a spare cloak of Thor's and led her to the bed. Sigyn went to sleep almost immediately, grateful to be allowed unconsciousness.

Loki reappeared on the balcony of the small dining hall where Thor was supposed to feast with his friends after the coronation. Alone for the moment, Thor brooded into a cup. Looking at his brother's face, he saw that the Allfather had somehow convinced him to wait a bit. So, smirk on his face, he went to un-convince him.

The Warriors Three and Sif had managed to get into clean clothes and were all armed against a renewed attack. They saw Thor and Loki sitting quietly to one side, chatting. Frowning, Sif tried to approach them to see what was going on.

Sigyn stayed in the bedroom—Thor's bedroom—and slept for many hours. It was Frigga who woke her and forced her to sit up enough to eat some meat, bread and cheese as well as a cup from the healer designed to help her heal and to ease any pain. Sigyn pushed it all away and tried to curl up to sleep again, but Frigga's little whimper made her heart break. Finally, she rose on one elbow and croaked, "Is Narvi dead?"

Frigga sighed sadly and said, "I don't know—none have told me." Sigyn's face fell and she made to turn over and sleep again, but Frigga's gentle hand on her shoulder stopped her. "But Loki needs you now." She knew it was unfair to ask Sigyn to rise and face him now, but he did need her. For that matter, all of Asgard needed her gentle touch if Loki was to sit on the throne for long. "He needs to know that you are well—despite everything..."

Sigyn nodded slowly. Something had happened—something terrible if the hitch in the Queen's voice was any indication. Thankfully, Frigga had conjured a reasonable dress—at least, she hoped it was a reasonable dress—and was helping her get it on.

"What has happened—Mother?" she choked out.

Frigga paused to wrap a daintily embroidered scarf around her neck. Her throat closed as she tried to figure out what had happened. "Loki...he and Thor-"

"Enough, Mother," Loki's voice sounded firmly through the doorway. "I will attend my wife. You may find us another set of apartments to live in."

Frigga felt her pride prick at being ordered by her son, but Loki was overwrought. So, she helped Sigyn to her feet and over to Loki and then went to open up another set of apartments.

Sigyn sagged against Loki as Frigga left. Loki snorted, "Silly Mother—expecting you to simply rise and walk." He scooped her up and went to a chair by the fireplace and sat down with her in his arms and on his lap. "I'm sorry, my love, but we will make do here until there are other quarters available."

Sigyn sagged against him. "Loki," she whispered. "My love, I swear if you tell me lies evermore, I will not speak a word of complaint but tell me the truth now-" Loki tensed unbearably. "-where is Narvi?"

Loki felt almost sleepy with the rush. He had already heard the whispers and rumors that began that he had caused the Jotun invasion. That he had plotted to exile Thor. Sigyn had only asked about Narvi, though, and not the rest. "Narvi...," he whispered, holding her close. "Narvi is..."

"Is what?" she moaned against his chest.

"Narvi is dead," he whispered. The hot prick of tears flooded his eyes as a look of horror dawned on Sigyn's face.

Sigyn shuddered and wailed against his chest. She could bear nothing more and for a dizzy moment, she felt her head cloud and almost swooned in her grief. All that she could cling to now was Loki.

"We went against the orders of the Allfather," Loki continued brokenly. "Thor gathered the Warriors Three and Sif and me and we traveled down the rainbow bridge to the Bifrost. Heimdall greeted me saying that we had not dressed warmly enough. He seemed about to refuse us passage, but relented saying only that he would not open the gates if we brought trouble with us-" Sigyn's breath caught in her throat. "I had sent a guard to tell Frigga and Odin where we were.

"We traveled to Jotenheim and Thor spoke to Laughey and Faubrati, who are the Frost Giant king and queen—at least for the moment since they can shift genders as they please. Faubrati cradled a little bundle, wrapped in pelts. I went to investigate and there was only a tiny Jotun baby.

"I could not breathe and Thor shed tears when Laughey said that Narvi was no more. Laughey called him a princess and Thor attacked. We fought as best we could and then the Allfather came to us."

Sigyn's breath shuddered. "The Allfather?"

"He came to get us out of there. We were outnumbered and had our backs to a cliff. Odin came in and fought them back with Gungir. Without looking at us, he told Laughey that we had trespassed against his orders. Laughey shrugged and said that he hoped so in order to give Asgard the war it wants." Loki drew in a shuddering breath. "The Allfather forced us to return here."

Sigyn shuddered, biting her lip. Somehow, deep in her empty belly, she knew that there was more. Yet, Loki was silent—petting her hair and holding her as she shook with her fury. When she couldn't stand it another moment, she whispered, "Is there more?"

Loki swallowed heavily. "Thor...was banished." He blinked heavily, showing only his blind wife his grief.

"And the Allfather?" Sigyn breathed.

"He spoke with me in the weapon's vault and then collapsed into the Odinsleep."

Sigyn felt the wail in her throat—in her gut—but it was chained there and couldn't come out. It felt like a choking hand and she almost couldn't catch her breath. "What are we to do?" she choked out.

"I don't know," he said, which was only half a lie. He knew what he wanted to happen, but good things happening to him were likely only traps or illusions.

"Will...Mother know?" she asked plainly.

"We will ask her," he replied simply. "As soon as she has Odin laid out and is ready to receive visitors, I have asked that she see us."

"Oh thank goodness," she choked out. "I knew that I could count on your foresight."

Loki blinked rapidly. Of all the reactions he had expected, this was not one of them. With a sigh, he held her closer and simply waited as she unknotted herself and cried her fear and grief out. Somehow, it seemed ironic that she should cry out her grief here—in Thor's chambers—when Thor had caused her such grief to begin with.

She hiccuped and let out a slightly unladylike belch and raised her face to timidly smile at him. "I shouldn't keep you," she whispered. He blanched and she smoothed his damp garments over his shoulders. "But I am jealous and would like an hour or two before some duty takes you from me."

Loki smirked. "Your wish is my will," he whispered, kissing her palm. He led her to the bed. Unsurprisingly—especially to he who whelped Sleipnir—she was unable or unwilling or both to do much more than be tucked into the bed beside him and relish his warmth and company.