The first time one of her children gets sick, Darcy, the Jötunn queen, is overwhelmed and helpless as the physicians asses the illness. It is her second-born, only a few months old, Derrick, who becomes ill. He has a high fever and the only thing he does is wail at the top of his lungs – which is surprisingly loud for such a tiny child – because of the discomfort. Darcy gathers the baby in her arms and tries her best to comfort him. Cradled in her arms, the child stops crying after some time and falls in a fitful sleep.
Leif, her first-born, looks at his brother in dismay, he is only in his third year of life but his red eyes scrunch in a weak and tired glare. He wants to sleep and Derrick's fussing makes that impossible even when the darkness cocoons everything in a comfortable environment for resting. Darcy, still holding Derrick, approaches Leif on the bed and smoothes his jet black hair, her white skin a striking contrast to her sons' blue. Leif yawns and leans into his mother's touch, silently hoping that Derrick wouldn't start crying anytime soon. The older boy is asleep in a matter of minutes.
The Jötunn queen sighs and walks to Derrick's crib. She puts the baby down but before she can make another move his eyes open – deep, dark crimson – and his mouth sets in a frown. Tears form in his eyes, and Darcy knows what's coming. Quickly she picks him up and takes him with her to another room. Leif just fell asleep, and she doesn't have it in her to wake him up. Gently, she rocks Derrick in her arms and sings softly. Maybe he would fall asleep again. The mother remains unaware of the gaze that is fixed on both of them until she hears steps behind her.
Darcy turns around and is almost taken aback to see her husband standing there. Loki smiles gently and takes baby Derrick from her arms. Darcy lets him; her arms are sore and she wanted a break anyway. "You look tired." he observes as they walk back to the nursery. The father sets his son in the crib with a firm order to go to sleep. Derrick doesn't even pout. He closes his eyes and goes to sleep. Darcy sighs. Why doesn't that child ever listen to her? She shrugged; Loki had always commanded respect from everyone, no exceptions.
"Not as tired as I feel, I assure you." she responds while pulling the covers over Leif who had somehow kicked them away since she'd last been in the room. Loki looks at her, and his son, and can hardly contain the adoration in his own scarlet eyes. His perfect, little family. "Your children are a handful." Darcy complains with no real irritation in her words and turns to leave, but not before pressing a kiss to her both her sons' cheeks. Loki follows her outside. The door is shut almost inaudibly. "What have you been up to today?"
He doesn't say anything. Instead his hand caresses her face and his lips plant a kiss on her forehead. "I apologise. You have to go through so much without my aid." The words are sincere and Darcy lets herself be charmed. Not for long, though. She kisses his cheek and tells him that his worry is unnecessary. "I am a queen, a wife, and a mother; there are things I must do alone. Your concern is touching. But I am strong and you know it." Loki chuckles at that. She is right as always.