Magician's Heir

After Odin and I had drunk several toasts to the health of my wife and the unborn child, the old vagabond said he had to be going, that his wife was waiting for him, and bid us goodbye. "What a dear sweet old man!" my wife exclaimed. "We'll have to have him over for lunch sometime with Frigga."

I rolled my eyes. "You won't need to invite him, he'll just show up." It never ceases to amaze me how my wandering reprobate of a brother charms every woman he meets. I mean, he's got one eye, gray hair, and a case of wanderlust the size of the Atlantic Ocean, yet women adore him. I said as much to Marissa, and all she said was, "Yes, but he's got a way about him that makes you like him."

"Yeah, because he's never in one place long enough to get on your nerves. I don't know how Frigga puts up with him. I think he's been gone more than he's been home since they've been married."

"Sometimes, for some people, that's the only way they can stay together," my wife pointed out sagely.

"Not in my marriage." I declared. "I made you a promise that I'd always be there for you and I mean to keep it. A man belongs with his wife."

"Even when I have this baby?" she teased, a mischievous grin on her face.

"Right up until the moment it's born," I said tenderly.

"Oh? That'll raise a few eyebrows."

"Let it. I know as much about birthing as any woman." I laid a hand protectively over her stomach. "And I'm speaking from experience here."

"You were a horse," she reminded me tartly. "It's not the same thing . . ."

"In theory, perhaps not, but in practice it's the same. And unlike me, you won't be alone and scared out of your wits, because I'll be right there holding your hand."

"My brave magician. Braver than any man I know. Even my father left the room before I was born."

"Braver than any warrior. Thor was dead drunk for his sons' births and even Baldur passed out cold when Vali was born."

"Do immortal women give birth easier than human ones?"

"Now that I can't answer. But I'm sure Baldur's wife Nanna can." I said, my hand still cupping her flat stomach. Then I frowned, for I had felt not one, but two distinctive flutters of consciousness in her womb. I listened again, biting my lip in concentration.

Yes. I could definitely feel two minds in there. Pride filled me to overflowing and I found myself smiling unabashedly. Twins were a rare occurrence among us immortals, who generally found it difficult to conceive one baby, let alone two at once.

"What is it? You're smirking like the cat who swallowed the canary."

I lifted my face to look at her, my eyes dancing. "Sweetheart, you're going to be a mother twice."

"Twice? But that's not poss . . .good God, you mean I'm having twins? How do you know that?" Now her hand was covering mine.

"I can feel them. Much the way you can feel an object you're Searching for."

"Are they well?"

"Lively as tadpoles, and just about as big, I think. Which is how it should be." I patted her reassuringly. "Would you like to know what they are?"

"You can tell that too?" she cried in wonder. "Isn't it too early?"

I shook my head. "Nope. Male and female thoughts differ even at this stage. Well, Ma? D'you want to know or not?"

"No. I want to be surprised. Don't tell me."

"You sure?" I wheedled. "If you know what they are you can pick out names for them already and decorate the nursery."

"Quit tempting me, you wicked rogue!" she ordered, giggling. Then she slapped my hand away. "I want to find out like every other woman does, when they're born. Now be good, Loki, and don't ruin the surprise."

"Very well," I sighed. "But I think you ought to call one of them—" I began.

"Stop! Not another word, magician!" my wife snapped, putting a hand over my mouth.

I held up a hand. "Okay, okay. No need to get all riled, Marissa the Marvelous."

She smiled at her old stage name. "We'll have to bring the babies to visit when they're old enough to travel. I wonder how Marco and the rest are getting along now that I've officially given the show to them? Did you know they've changed the name to Flynn's Flying Circus?"

"I figured. They couldn't very well keep the old one, now could they?" I said sensibly. "If you want, I'll give you a scrying mirror, so you can see for yourself how they are. I might even give one to Esmerelda, so then you two can talk to each other as well. Will that make you happy, love of my life?"

"Extremely happy." Then she kissed me the way most men only dream of being kissed.

No doubt about it, I was one lucky magician.

My twins were born on a sunny day at the end of April—the 24th in fact. By that time Marissa was as big as an elephant and twice as cranky. Not that I blamed her. I remembered it being awkward as a mare, and I'd had four hooves to support my huge belly. As a woman, it must be ten times as awkward.

The nearer the due date, the more time my wife sought out the company of other woman, like Nanna, Frigga, and Sigyn. She spent hours down at Baldur's, drinking cups of tea and cocoa, discussing various aspects of birthing and childrearing. She could have written an entire medical treatise on the subject by the time the twins were born, swear to Christ. I even asked her if she was taking notes one day, and got a smack for my curiosity. It had been an honest question, though she called it a smartass comment. Pregnant females! They're so damn touchy.

As I had promised nine long months ago, I was present from beginning to end. I nearly pitched Brunhilda, the midwife, out on her derriere for trying to lock the door on me. She claimed it wasn't proper for a man to be in the birthing room.

"Hells bells, woman, she's my wife not some stranger! To the seven Hells with proper, this isn't the damn Dark Ages, you know." I growled, picking the lock with ease and shoving the door open.

"But you're a man! It's just not done!" the midwife wailed.

"Now it is. The only way I'm leaving is if Marissa says so," I told her firmly. I came over to my wife, who was gasping in the midst of another contraction. "D'you want me to leave, beloved?"

"No!" she grabbed my hand so hard I think she broke two fingers. "I . . .want . . .you . . .right . . .here . . .Don't you dare leave, you bastard!"

I shot the midwife a triumphant look. Then I gave all my attention to my wife, alternately exhorting her to breathe and to walk about.

"How am I doing?" she panted.

"You're doing great. The babies are fine. This will be over soon, Rissa, I promise."

"I damn well hope so."

So did I, believe me. Seeing her in such pain was driving me mad. Especially because I knew exactly how much it hurt. She did brilliantly, I must say. After the early stages of contractions, I went ahead and used magic to reduce the pain, so she delivered both babies laughing instead of crying. I mean, what's the advantage to being a magician if you can't use magic at a time like this?

Our daughter Aleta Esmerelda practically walked out of the womb into my arms.

Ten minutes later she was followed by her little brother Matthew Baldur, who had a set of lungs to rival Thor's.

Both twins weighed about five and a half pounds and had a scream that could rouse the dead from their graves. Not that I cared. Their indignant wails sounded like the sweetest music ever made to my ears. I cradled my daughter in one arm and handed my son to his mother, who gazed at him with such love it made tears come to my eyes.

"Oh, Loki. Look at him. He's so beautiful! And she's so lively. They're both perfect."

"Of course they are. They're my kids, after all." I boasted. Then I added glibly at her frown, "Why wouldn't they be perfect like their mother?"

"Flatterer," Marissa smiled. "You done good, magician. Now you have heirs to ensure that your Name will never be forgotten."

I threw back my head and laughed. "Oh, Marissa, I doubt that my name will ever be in danger of that. If anything, I'm notorious."

"Nonsense. You're my husband and the hero who recovered the Black Spear. Not mention the best magician in all the realms. Now there's a lineage your children can be proud of."

She left out a thief and a liar, but we can't all be perfect, can we? And at least my children would grow up with a father around to teach them and love them. As Marissa had said, I had my legacy there—my magic and my heirs and my beloved wife, who would never grow old and die.

Not bad for an orphaned, illegitimate, half-Aesir brat, wouldn't you say?

The End

A/N: Well, how did you all like it? Review please, I'd love to hear from you!