Loki stroked Sorrow's swollen stomach as she slept. He couldn't help but marvel at it. Brandt's scar was stretched across the pregnant roundness, reminding Loki again that his Sorrow was still alive.

But he couldn't help but feel worry, nervousness. She had been on bed arrest for the past four weeks, not well enough to sit up. The healers were worried about the baby, about Sorrow. They said something might be wrong, but every time they tried to check, the image came out blurry, which was strange. Loki had talked to his mother, and she said that perhaps it was Loki's Jotun heritage.

Loki didn't know. And that's what killed him. What if Sorrow died? What if it was his Frost Giant side that was making her sick? What if they lost another child? This will have been their third. The past two having been born dead.

Sorrow's blue eyes opened slowly, and she stroked the side of his face. Loki smiled, pushing away the worry that she had clearly just seen. "We'll be fine." She whispered.

Loki sighed, nodding. "I know..."

Sorrow fell back asleep, neither of them knowing about the tragedy that would take place in just a few hours.

Loki had been kicked out of the healing room as soon as Sorrow went through the doors. She had gone into labor, and something was VERY wrong. He could feel it, sense death nearby. He paced back and forth, his mother flying by him and into the healing chambers to help with the birth.

Loki sank onto the nearest chair, feeling helpless. He sat that way for hours more, dawn til dusk. He was about to go into the room whether the healers liked it or not when Frigga came out. Loki's sudden spike of hope at seeing his mother died immediately. Frigga's face was drawn out, worn, heavy circles under her eyes. She strode up to Loki, throwing her arms around his neck, whispering that she was sorry. Loki pulled away, taking slow steps into the healing room.

He could feel death in the air, raw and overpowering. He sank onto a chair by the bed, which had been cleaned up. Sorrow lay on the bed, clutching a tiny bundle, sweat sheening on her forehead. She didn't look at him. Instead, tears rolled down her cheeks as she started sobbing, the tiny thing in her arms cold and unmoving. Quiet.

Loki leaned forward, pressing his forehead to Sorrow's. He felt her exhausted form shake as sobs wracked her body. Sorrow choked out cries, which kept coming, not able to stop herself. She held the bundle gently, as if the baby still had life.

Loki saw a nurse standing at the side of the bed, ready to take the baby away. Loki could tell the nurse was trying hard to keep a neutral face, but the raw pain in Sorrow's eyes finally had the nurse tearing up. Sorrow clutched the child to her chest, requiring the nurse to pry it out of her arms. Loki gently took Sorrow's hands, which were reaching for the dead infant.

"Sorrow." Loki whispered. He whispered her name over and over again, feeling her sobs start to reside to whimpers. He choked back the lump in his throat, taking deep breaths. Though one of his breaths hitched, he forced himself to remain strong, trying to put Sorrow back together again. "Sorrow." He whispered again. What could he say? He knew the pain of losing a child, thrice now, but he had not been the one to carry it, to give birth to it. Sorrow was hysterical, her eyes screwed shut as she heaved out sob after sob, eventually crying out in frustration, screaming her pain into the air.

Loki stroked her hair, kissing her forehead. He held her tight, his arms around her as she eventually collapsed back onto the bed, falling asleep. Loki felt her shuddering breaths calm, though she stilled cried in her sleep.

After a while, a different nurse came in, telling Loki that she needed to finish cleaning Sorrow up and make sure she was healthy, to come back tomorrow. Loki nodded, reluctantly letting Sorrow go and standing from the bed. He was ushered out, where he saw Frigga, who embraced him for a long time, assuring him that he and Sorrow would be okay. Thor was there too, with Jane and their two children.

Loki felt a tightening in his chest, seeing Thor with two healthy children. And Thor saw the way Loki looked at his and Jane's children. Pain, sadness, longing. Loss. Thor should have guessed it was unwise to bring children into such a situation. He had heard Sorrow's cries of distress, her scream of frustration. And now, Loki, who had dark circles under his eyes, who was pale and hurting.

Loki pushed past Thor with a little nod, exiting the Healing Halls. Many servants and maids passed him, making a clear path for the sullen prince. By the way Loki carried himself, they knew the second prince had lost yet another child. And not even the hardest of gossipers had heart to whisper fowl words against Loki or his family that evening.

Loki came to a stop in a completely empty hall, staring at the family portraits that lined the golden walls. He walked through them, seeing the different Kings and Queens, Princes and Princesses that were timelessly engraved into statues or painted onto paper. And at the very end, the most recent pictures, was that of Thor and Jane, with their two children. The one before that was of Odin and Frigga, with he and Thor.

Loki fell to his knees, his hands clutched into fists as he cried out in anguish, finally letting himself hurt. Letting himself feel the pain of loss once more. Letting himself crack for just a little while before he went back to Sorrow.

Sif was watching from the shadows, having been told by Frigga to follow him and make sure the second prince was alright. She watched as he cried, usually so guarded. She couldn't remember the last time Loki had cried, pouring out his soul into his tears. She had only seen it once, when Loki was a teenager, when his lover had completely thrown him away and pursued Thor. She had been walking down Loki's corridor, hearing muffled cries, seeing him through the crack of a door before it was slammed shut.

But now, she saw Loki. Not the fake Loki that put on a sassy smile, a sarcastic façade. The feeling Loki, who hurts and aches and loves and laughs genuinely. His eyes were full of raw pain.

Up until a few months ago, Sif had thought Loki was just using Sorrow to gain favor in the sight of the Allfather. But seeing him here, now, pure emotions coming off him in waves at the loss of another child, she knew she had been wrong. If he had just been using the woman, he would have found a different one by now, one that could bear him children, give him an heir. He wouldn't be here, having only left Sorrow's side because the healers had kicked him out.

Sif slowly stepped out from the shadows, taking a deep breath before standing next to Loki, putting a hand on his shoulder. She had expected him to whip around and face her, screaming at her to leave him alone as he had done in the past. But he didn't. He slowly looked up at her, his eyes a crimson red, his skin a cerulean blue, a chill rising in the air.

"It's my fault." He whispered. "It is because I am a monster. And she suffers for it."

Sif wasn't good at this sort of thing, wasn't used to seeing Loki in his Jotun form. Sif had the strangest feeling, one that was akin to sympathy. "No. It is surely something else."

Loki shook his head, slowly getting to his feet. Sif was surprised by how much taller he seemed as a Jotun, how much more intimidating. "What else could it be? Every child has died so far. And each time, I can see her withering away, part of her heart dying with them." Loki was silent for a moment before he spoke again, clearing his throat, his Asgardian form melting back to life. "I apologize. I did not mean for others to see my tantrum."

He began walking away. Sif caught his arm, ready to give him a berating few words to man up and stop trying to shove everyone away, when she hugged him instead. No, they hadn't always been the best of friends, but they had cared for each other at some point. "I'm sorry." She said.

Loki patted Sif's back. "Thank you, Sif."

And then, she was gone, hurrying away.

Loki wandered back to the Healing Halls, sat on the chair he had been sitting on all day, and fell asleep.