Tony and Loki settled in for sleep, but every time Tony dropped off, Loki would flip over, tug at the covers, or sigh restlessly.
Falling asleep, only to be jolted awake again and again and again was slow torture for Tony's exhausted mind and body. He finally gave up, sat up, and turned the bedside lamp on to its lowest setting. "Jeeze, Loki, what's wrong? You're driving me nuts." His voice was raspy.
Loki had by now scooted all the way to the edge of the bed, lying on his tummy with his back to Tony. "I don't know," he said, his voice muffled because he had the covers pulled over his head.
Tony pulled them back and regarded the dark hair streaming over a vulnerable-looking bare shoulder and pushed his tiredness aside. He wriggled closer, propping himself on one elbow and laying his free arm across Loki's waist. "Hey. I can tell something's bugging you. Are you worried?"
"Hm? Oh, no. That is, I don't think so. Well... maybe. A little." Loki turned onto his back in order to look Tony in the eye. "Actually, yes. I'm worried."
Tony stifled a yawn as he asked, "About what?"
Loki stared at the ceiling for a moment before answering. "Everything. Fitting into your life. Giving birth. The baby, the future. It's just so much..."
"Aw, babe." Tony came a little closer to consciousness, and now that he realized Loki hadn't been just randomly tormenting him, he patted him comfortingly. "Okay, first, you are officially not allowed to worry about you and me ever again, got that? We're absolutely fine. As for the baby, well, there's a lot of stuff we don't know, but I guess we'll figure it out as we go along. I mean, that's what most parents do, right?"
"We're not exactly 'most parents.'" Loki sat up and rubbed his eyes, tiredly blowing air between his lips like a tire deflating. "It doesn't really matter, though. What choice do we have?"
A smile tugged at Tony's mouth. "Hey. Listen, do you have any idea how much I'm looking forward to this whole daddy thing? Kid's first words, learning to walk, building his—or her—first circuit board? Having a little one to take care of, to do stuff with? Disneyland, Central Park, the Washington zoo. Riding bikes together, blowing shit up..."
"Getting up in the middle of the night to feed it. The subsequent clean-up after it expels waste, both liquid and solid, and spews out the contents of its stomach. Doing it again and again, night after night, day after day... Then, later, the screaming pain of teething. Teaching it to use eating utensils, although I don't recall Thor ever having mastered that particular skill, and he seems to be doing well enough..."
"Way to be a downer, babe. I guess it's all in how you look at it. I mean, I'm excited about everything, including the birth. It's gonna be so cool!"
Loki stiffened and raised his lip in a disgusted sneer. "Cool? In what way?"
"Well, first, I'm going to record every minute of it—"
"What?"
"Yeah, I'll get a few camcorders set up on tripods ahead of time, each set to capture a different angle. That way, I can spend the whole time helping you!"
"HELPING me?" Loki asked incredulously with a tiny bit of panic. "What could you possibly do to help me give birth?"
"Tons! I'm going to be your birth coach. Banner and I talked about it while you and Pep were having your little chat. Now, he's not an obstetrician, but he knows all about natural childbirth from when he was in India, and—"
Loki's eyes were wide. "Wait just one moment—what exactly do you mean by 'natural' childbirth? What other kind is there?"
"Well... they call it natural when the, uh, mom doesn't take anything for the pain, and—"
"Pain? What pain? There are potions—surely even Midgard has potions..."
"We call 'em drugs, but yeah, we do. Thing is, it's better for the kid if you use breathing techniques and guided imagery instead. Now, don't worry. Banner's going to train us, and—" Tony paused. He'd never seen a look of such sheer horror on Loki's face before. "What?" he asked, feeling a little bewildered. "Don't they do stuff like that on Asgard?"
"I wouldn't know!" Loki almost shouted. "Those are all women's concerns! I've never even..." Loki pushed his hair out of his eyes. "Men aren't privy to such things, the mages take care of everything. I'd never even considered the possibility that pain might be a-a... choice."
"Um... Well, it doesn't have to be our choice."
"You just said we had to do... breathing techniques and guided imagery, whatever the bloody hell that is, and—"
"Aw, it's not written in stone, sweetie, we don't have to go with that. But, God, how do you not know anything about this stuff?"
Loki jerked back, and his eyes were snapping fire. "Forgive my ignorance, Stark, but I was a prince! I was born to wield a sword in battle, to officiate in matters of state, t-to craft treaties and plan strategies between realms, not to push a whelp out of my loins like a brood mare!"
"Okay, okay, I just meant..." Tony caught himself becoming defensive, and immediately changed to a soothing tone. "I mean, I'm sorry, baby. I'm so sorry." He managed to get Loki settled down next to him and murmured soothing words into his ear. "It's totally okay, sweetie. I'll pick up some books on the subject and we'll make decisions after you've read up on everything."
They lay quietly for a while and Tony idly stroked Loki's smooth skin, eventually running his hand over Loki's stomach. His touch felt nice, but instead of the affectionate rubbing which Loki expected, Tony began a series of investigative probings, first on one side of his belly button, then the other, and then under. To Loki's shock, Tony chortled.
"What?" Loki demanded irritably.
"Oh my God, you're finally starting to show!"
"Pardon?"
"Your tummy's starting to, you know, stick out. I can feel it!"
"It is not!"
"Yes it is! Feel! See?"
Tony took Loki's hand and positioned it just so.
Well.
It was unmistakeable. There was a gentle slope to Loki's stomach that he would have sworn wasn't there earlier in the evening. He swallowed hard and gave a resigned sigh. "Damn it, Stark. You're right."
"Ha. Told you." Tony basked in this rare moment of being right before realizing that Loki didn't sound especially happy about the development. Tony gently turned Loki's face to his own. "Hey, come on. This is mega-cool. It means the baby's growing, it's healthy." When Loki didn't respond with anything other than a baleful look, he gave him a soft kiss. "Wow. I keep forgetting this must be beyond weird for you. I'm so sorry, I—"
"Oh, stop apologizing. I've had some time to get used to the idea, I'm just... recalcitrant, I suppose. It infuriates me that my body has the damn gall to go and do something I didn't tell it to do." They held each other's gaze for a moment, and then Loki broke into a lop-sided smile. "It's fine, Tony, really. I may not be as idiotically pleased about the idea of ejecting something larger than my head from, well, somewhere on my person without a pain potion, but that doesn't mean I'm unhappy. I just need to learn more about the process. Do you think you can get me those books tomorrow?"
"You got it, angel-pants. There'll be a stack waist high before dinner time."
Loki nodded appreciatively and they both soon managed to finally fall asleep.
A funny little stirring woke Loki. He lay there for a moment, wondering if he'd dreamed it, when it came again. A soft feathery touch, as if a butterfly was slowly flapping its wings against his belly from the inside. He placed one hand over the spot and looked down at the slight roundness he'd apparently been unwilling to acknowledge before. A grin crossed his face, and he started to wake up Tony, but the movement was now gone, and, besides, he didn't think it had been strong enough to feel from the outside.
Plus, Tony was dead to the world. It would take dumping a pitcher of cold water on him to rouse him. Which, if Loki'd had his magic available to him, he probably would have done, since Tony was so keen on sharing all the milestones of the pregnancy with him. But, that wouldn't be nice.
And, Loki was hungry.
He quietly slipped out of bed and pulled on his sleep pants and Tony's ratty plaid flannel bathrobe before heading to the kitchen. He stuck some bread in the recently-replaced toaster and poured a glass of milk—lately, he'd noticed that even the aroma of coffee brewing made him feel nauseated—and when the toast popped up, he ate it dry.
He sat down and rubbed his stomach as he chewed, wishing he could feel the little flapping sensation again, but the baby was quiet. There were myriad thoughts clashing in his brain, everything from where, exactly, they were going to put the thing once it was born—he was willing to bet Tony would insist on keeping it in the room with them, ugh—to whether he would be able to use his seidr again immediately once the creature, oh, all right, the baby, had left his body. The "how" of which he wasn't entirely certain.
He wasn't used to dealing with unknowns. He was accustomed to observing, subtly investigating, and doing research before plunging into anything new. He liked having a plan and being prepared for all contingencies whenever possible, although, clearly, that didn't always work out for him.
But this... He had no one to observe, no one to ask questions of, and absolutely no reference works to consult, although he looked forward to the books Tony had promised him. But of course even they wouldn't be able to answer all his questions—for Norns sake, he was a Frost Giant. Who knew what peculiarities he might harbor under his Aesir skin? He finished his toast and sighed.
He wanted his mother.