Helloo and welcome back. I don't mind admitting that I've been panicking a bit for the last 36hrs or so, as the final draft of this story was only stored on FFN, and I couldn't get to it. Having said that - when I did get back onto FFN and re-read the last two chapters, I had a minor freakout, and a major rewrite.

So the gist of it is this. This story is now 29 Chapters plus the epilogue. 27 and 28 tonight, then 29 and the epilogue at the weekend, providing I can finish my complete re-write of Chapter 29. The good news is that I still really like the epilogue.

For those that are still stunned by the abrupt departure of FFN from their lives, a quick recap - Malekith and co are dead, and Loki is mortally wounded. Harry has traded 100 years to Hella in exchange for Loki's life, but when they return to the "normal" dimension Loki has shown no sign of improvement... Natasha has also been seriously wounded by the Dark Elves... The saga continues.

The Palace of Asgard. Three months later:

Hermione sat in the Great Hall on a quiet bench seat sketching her two small nephews who were playing with their nursemaid on a rug on the floor. She shivered slightly and pulled a shawl around her shoulders, the braziers would be lit soon, for winter was upon them, and the hall was chilly, especially in the evening. Loki had always loved the winter. It was probably his despised Jotun blood, but he had ever preferred the cold to the heat.

She always seemed to be cold these days.

Hermione rose wearily from the bench. To the casual glance, she did not look so very different yet, but she was conscious of the beginnings of a bump, of small, significant changes that clearly spoke of the witchling child in her womb.

She had always known, from the moment she first felt the spark of power within her, that she carried a girl. A little witch, with powers just like her father's.

"Hermione dear, how are you feeling?" Frigga appeared at her shoulder, watching the two boys fondly. "Have you seen Captain Rogers? Thor was looking for him."

Since the Convergence, Steve Rogers had spent increasing amounts of time in Asgard, helping out with the repairs, and taking some of the work that Loki had once done, from Thor's shoulders. "I think he's out with the Warriors Three. He appears to have found quite a niche there. I suppose it makes sense, in an odd sort of way, that he would feel more comfortable in Asgard than on 21st Century Earth" She sighed picking up her sketch book. "Will you walk up with me?"

Frigga tucked her arm through Hermione's. "Gladly"

The small private anti-chamber of the Healing Rooms was depressingly familiar to both women. So was the sight that awaited them there.

As Hela had promised, Loki had not died that day in Svartelfheim. Neither had he awoken. For three months now, he had slept. Eir had examined him carefully, and run every test in her arsenal. He was well, she said, his wounds were healed she said, he would wake when he was ready she said.

Except that he didn't wake.

For three months now, Hermione had lived in a state of suspended animation. Every day she would spend hours in the tiny chamber, talking to him, reading to him, or simply being silent. Sometimes she would lose patience, and would scream and sob out her frustrations at his unresponsive form.

Still he didn't wake.

Hermione had already spent the better part of the day with him, leaving only when Lucilla came and chased her out with instructions to go to the library, to walk in the gardens – to be anywhere and do anything other than what she had been doing for the past three months... watching the rise and fall of his chest, in case he should forget to breathe if she were not there to witness it. Her friend had threatened her with a sleeping draft strong enough to make her sleep for the rest of the week if she had returned in less than two hours. Hermione had taken one look at her friends anxious face and decided not to risk it.

Hermione and Frigga sat for an hour or two, talking of the coming child, Frigga telling stories of Thor and Loki's childhood, which made Hermione chuckle in spite of everything. Eventually a servant brought up some supper for them both, after which Frigga bid them both good night and retired.

Hermione sat in the austere little chamber, which at least afforded them some privacy, and wondered what to do. She was bone weary, and it would be sensible to go back to their – her – chambers and sleep, but she dreaded the bed that was so vast and cold without him. So she did today, what she had done so many times. She removed her shoes and curled up on the narrow bed, tucked against his body, head on his shoulder, and here, at last she found peace and rest.

ooo0ooo

Hermione awoke in the very small hours of the morning, cold, and stiff necked.

At first she had no idea where she was. But as she lay there quietly, she became aware of the reassuring sounds of the healing rooms next door. The quiet movements of the night healers. The soft breathing of the man beside her, his arm tucking her closer against his body...

Hermione went very still, absolutely convinced that his arm had not been around her when she went to sleep. Hardly daring to look, she raised her head from his shoulder...

... And met a pair of confused and rather sleepy green eyes.

If this was a dream, Hermione had no interest in waking. Very slowly, she sat up, her eyes never leaving his...

She had not been aware that she was crying until Loki raised a pale hand, with considerable effort, to wipe her tears away.

"Tears alskling. What ails you?" His voice croaky and weak from lack of use. "Did you have a bad dream? Where are we?" His eyes scanned the room and he sighed, realising where they were. "Oh dear. What have I done this time?"

Hermione pressed an unsteady finger to his lips. "Wait – I'll be right back… don't go anywhere..."

Stealing softly from the room, she went to notify the night healer, who looked at her disbelievingly. Hermione was all too well aware that some of the healers had openly expressed their conviction that Loki was a dead man – who would slip away quietly one night, as Odin Allfather had done. However, one look into the room had sent the healer running to fetch Eir and Frigga.

Eir arrived only a few minutes later, hair braided for sleep, still wrapped in a warm bed robe. She examined her patient carefully and declared him to be understandably weakend by lack of food and exercise, and somewhat confused, but otherwise healed; one of the servants was dispatched to rouse the kitchen for a suitable meal for their recovered prince.

While Loki was sipping a cup of water a servant returned from Frigga's quarters alone.

"The Lady Frigga is delighted that Prince Loki has awoken, and promises to visit him in the morning if he is well enough, but…" here the servant was unable to resist a smile… "she went on to say that she is sure that the Prince is excellently tended tonight, and that she feels she would be entirely surplus to requirements."

"Bless her" smiled Hermione, still dizzy with relief that Loki appeared to be physically recovered if nothing else. When Loki – still not quite compos mentis looked confused, she went on.. "she knows that I want you all to myself tonight."

At this spectacularly unsubtle hint, Eir announced that she would return to bed, but left strict instructions with both the healer and Hermione to summon her if they had the slightest concern for her patient, and reminding Loki to ensure that he ate whatever the kitchen sent up for him.

"It's a good thing that Thor isn't around, or he would decide I needed feeding up and I'd end up with half a roast boar in front of me" smiled Loki rather weakly. "Now can you remind me what I'm doing here please, my head feels full of grey fuzz."

Resisting the temptation to go into too much detail - knowing it would be better for him to recover as much of his memory as possible naturally; Hermione gave a brief outline of what had happened since his last clear memories – breaking out of Asgard. Everything before that point was very clear, but after that was less so, with some of the events immediately preceding his three month sleep entirely missing.

He frowned, bewildered. "Three months? It has been three months since all this took place?" Hermione nodded. "I'm so sorry sweetheart. You must have been so worried."

Hermione looked down at their joined hands, biting her lip. "They said you would wake eventually, but it has been so long. I was beginning to wonder whether you would be awake in time for..." Hermione's voice tailed off, realising that there was one piece of news that she hadn't shared with him yet.

"Awake in time for what?"

Hermione said nothing. She simply took his hand in hers, and rested it on the subtle swell of her stomach.

For a moment his face showed only confusion. Then he drew in a shocked breath as realisation dawned.

"When?"

"Late spring - a girl"

He frowned for a moment, his magic seeking a connection with the child within as he struggled to sit up, eventually giving up and collapsing back on his pillows with a frustrated huff. "Confound it, I'm as weak as a kitten and my powers are on the blink too - I can't - find her..." He shook his head, his mind struggling to comprehend the enormous news he had just received, eyes wide and wondering. "A daughter - yours and mine. I can see her now. She has your face, my eyes - and black hair - but curly like yours..." His powers weren't the only thing to be all mixed up, he was laughing with delight, although his eyes were wet.

Now Hermione was laughing and crying too "... and you'll dote on her shamelessly. She isn't even born yet, and already she's Daddy's little girl..."

She collected herself a little - although still smiling through wet eyes - as the healer came in bearing a bowl of broth and some bread. "Leave it with me, I can manage, if you can just help me sit him up a little." When the healer had left them to attend to her other patients, Hermione picked up the bowl and spoon. "Just a little at a time, or you'll make yourself sick."

Loki smiled at her, sipping obediently. "You know I'm fairly certain that that was one of the first things you ever said to me... some things never change" When he had eaten most of the broth, and a little of the bread, and drunk some more water, he had to admit that he was ready to sleep once more. With Hermione curled relaxed and happy into his side he was soon drifting off.

Just as he was about to fall properly asleep, in that strange halfway space between sleeping and waking, the thought came to him.

Harry - something about Harry. He needed to remember. It was important.....?

ooo0ooo

The following morning, Loki was fast asleep when Hermione woke and her heart sank in despair.

It had all been a dream. Loki was still asleep. Just a cruel and vivid dream.

Unable to bear the disappointment any longer, she slipped quietly out of the Healing Rooms, gazing intently out of a window, desperately fighting to keep tears at bay.

How long she stood there, she didn't know, but eventually she was aware of light, familiar footsteps behind her.

"Why Hermione dear – whatever is the matter?"

Hermione spun around and hurled herself into a startled Frigga's arms, finally giving way to her emotions. Wisely Frigga forbore to ask any questions until she had cried herself out, and looked up with a final despairing sniff.

"Is everything all right – I expected to find you full of smiles this morning?"

"Frigga – I dreamed that Loki woke up – and I – I was able to… to tell him about the baby and it was wonderful, and it was so real. But when I woke up this morning nothing had changed and I realised that it was only a dream and…. and…." Hermione's bit her lip trying not to cry again. She looked up confused – why was Frigga laughing?

Taking her hand, Frigga led her back into Loki's room – Hermione stopped - stunned.

Sitting up in bed, sipping another cup of water, was Loki – smiling but looking a little put out.

"You would think that after three months I would at least deserve a good morning kiss from my wife!"