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EDIT: So I'm not really sure what's happening here, but this chapter was posted (I think? I mean, I got reviews) but then somehow today it disappeared? I don't know. So I am posting this again and I deeply apologize for gunking up your mailbox with updates for the same chapter. Big thanks to Mediocre Dunces from bringing this weirdness to my attention.

Part II: In the Dark

Chapter 54: Coronation

"Behold," Eleanor says, when she finally manages to gather Sif, Sigyn, and Jane out on the balcony. "The chart!" Her voice is a perfect imitation of the green aliens from Toy Story as they stare up at the claw. She grins at her friends, but two are aliens themselves with no grasp of the greatness of Disney/Pixar (Eleanor vows to start movie night), and Jane probably couldn't get past the scientific impossibility of living toys and never watched the whole thing.

Darcy would understand.

Pregnancy is making Eleanor a bit strange, and her friends blink back at her. With no more fanfare she waves her hand and the board turns, displaying a glittering web depicting the Asgardian elite and their connections.

"What are you wearing?" asks Sif. Slinging an arm over the back of the seat, she casually fiddles with Sigyn's hair.

Eleanor glances down at her admittedly ridiculous attire. Since last night Loki's magic just isn't cutting it to keep her warm, so she's compensated with Midgardian sweats, two scarves, a fur cap, and a puffy vest. The whole thing is topped off with Loki's ancient fur cloak and leather gloves.

Before this little meeting, Sigyn showed up early to try and figure out why Eleanor was suddenly immune to warming magic. She was unsuccessful on that front, but then really laid into Eleanor about the whole lying thing.

"Nido is Odin!" she shrieked. "You weren't even that subtle! I am a fool that assisted you in disguising Loki's death and hiding the condition of the Allfather and committing treason!"

"Thor knew," Eleanor replied, with a shrug. The guilt of lying about this stopped affecting her many years ago. "You did your duty and I can't give you all the facts, but Thor knew that it was really Loki on the throne."

"And now you ask me to hold my silence?"

"Yeah, pretty much. For king and country and all that."

Sigyn sighed and calmed slightly. "I feel uncomfortable, keeping my silence."

"Who would you even tell?" Eleanor asked, trying not to be irritated. "Thor, Odin. They both know. Who's left?"

"Sif," replied the healer after a long pause. "I'd rather not lie to Sif."

"Tough. You're going to have to," she replied.

Eleanor watches the pair now – Sif laughing at Eleanor's outfit, Sigyn smiling at the warrior indulgently – pleased that her suspicions seem to be proving correct. Eleanor is glad for them. Someone around here deserves some uncomplicated happiness.

"I'm cold," Eleanor says. "Just going out on a limb here, but I'm thinking it might have something to do the fact this thing growing in me is half-Frost Giant. So back to the chart."

"Oh boy," Jane says. "I'm supposed to memorize all this?"

"In a couple months, you'll officially be Queen of Asgard. You need to get on it," Eleanor says, snapping her fingers at Jane. The gesture is completely useless with the gloves.

She recalls being in Jane's position, when Frigga expected Eleanor to learn a whole new culture and people in very little time. Again, Eleanor wonders if Frigga had any idea that Eleanor would one day become the teacher.

Jane groans and slumps lower in her seat, her chin touching her chest. Eleanor quells the urge to recite Frigga's Princess Lesson on posture.

"Queens tend to have better posture," Sif says.

Jane shoots the warrior a glare but sits up straight, so straight it is parody of good posture.

"Okay," Eleanor continues, rubbing her hands together and trying not to giggle. "The whole thing is color coded. People outlined in purple are predisposed to liking you."

Jane blinks. "There are six people on there outlined in purple, Ellie!"

"Right. Me, Loki, Thor. Fandral. Volstagg. Oh, and Bragi if he ever gets out of jail. He's got a thing for mortals. But no, he has no influence. He doesn't count." Eleanor waves her hand and her father's face disappears from the board.

"Why am I not outlined in purple?" asks Sif, already glaring at Eleanor.

"Don't make me say it. I'll just piss everyone off." Sif's centuries-long crush on Thor does not predispose her to liking Jane.

Sure, she's since found Sigyn and she seems to be making a real effort with the future queen, but still.

"Change it to purple," grumbles Sif.

"Thank you, Sif," Jane says. "Back to six. Yes!"

"Your sarcasm is not appreciated here, your highness," says Eleanor.

Jane pulls a throw pillow into her lap, doubling over to scream into it. She straightens a moment later, smoothing her hair and trying her best to look royal after such an undignified display. "What is red?"

Eleanor winces. "Wouldn't you rather hear about green? Green are the people that love me and therefore will someday love you, probably."

"What is red, Eleanor?"

"Hey, you just sounded like a queen just then," says Eleanor making Sigyn chuckle and Sif roll her eyes.

"Ellie!" Jane shrieks.

"Red are the people that are probably going to hate you forever," she admits. "Mostly they wanted to be queen, or wanted someone in their family to be queen. Honestly, they are just going to be waiting around for you to die so they can start pressuring Thor again. Or they have a problem with the whole, mortal-on-the-throne thing. Most of them have a problem with the whole mortal-on-the-throne thing, but this is just the elite. The people, the ones who actually matter, they love me, and are therefore much more open to the whole situation."

Jane is screaming into the pillow again when Loki suddenly appears on the balcony, accompanied by shouting and grunting. Eleanor stares for a long moment. They all do, as it appears the newly pardoned and reinstated Prince of Asgard has brought a prisoner to his own rooms.

"Unhand me, swine!"

"Perhaps if you could stop trying to escape and allow me to explain!"

"I will squeeze your skull until your eyeballs pop forth from their sockets, rolling to my feet where I will promptly stomp upon them!"

There is nothing to do for a few shocking moments but watch Loki struggle to control the chained Frost Giant. And the creature truly is giant. It is hard to imagine Loki as the runt of anything when he's standing around with a solid foot on Eleanor, but the Jotunn growling at Loki as if its most pressing desire is to rip off his head with its teeth is at least two feet taller than her husband.

"Calm yourself!" Loki shouts, his normally quiet, low drawl replaced with booming like Thor's as he tries to be heard and not lose his head. "I mean you no harm!"

"Your minions stole me from my bed as I slept!" The voice is full of gravel, but still feminine. Eleanor gets a bit more interested in the proceedings and removes a couple layers, suddenly embarrassed to be dressed like this in front of company.

"Harm has been done, you barbarous fiend!" continues Loki's prisoner. "I know not who you are, but we have an alliance with Asgard that you have just destroyed! If you mean to kill me, than at least free my hands and fight, you tiny craven prick!"

Eleanor laughs and the Jotunn stops fighting her chains to take in her surroundings. She frowns at Eleanor, red eyes blinking. When she spots Sif she turns murderous once more.

"You! You liar! I trusted you. Trusted you with my people and now you abduct me?" shrieks the Jotunn.

"I had no knowledge of this," insists Sif, also glaring at Loki. She gets up, hand on the sword at her hip as she places herself between a cowering Sigyn and the Jotunn.

Jane looks pretty freaked out too, but curiosity is definitely winning out over fear. Eleanor isn't particularly frightened but she does think her husband is a rash idiot, although she's pretty sure she's figured out his intention here.

"What is the meaning of this, Loki? You will undo all the Allfather's work to make peace with Jotunheim with this latest stunt," says Sif.

Loki chuckles.

The Jotunn roars. "Loki! The destroyer of my world? The one who slaughtered my father?"

"Oh, like you are upset that I killed the cruel king," says Loki, rolling his eyes. "You wanted him dead."

"I had plans! Subtle, perfect plans that might have spared my people years of war and famine. That would have seen my sister incapacitated long ago and spared me the need to slay her with such brutality. I'll kill you for this!"

"Whoa," says Eleanor, hands up approaching the irate – and rightfully so – Jotunn. She calms once again, apparently shocked to be approached by such a small woman. "No one is killing anyone. Are you Fey?"

"I see no reason to answer the inquires of an Asgardian child. I spit on this whole affair."

"Yeah, it's pretty fucked up that Loki just stole you away. My husband can be kind of inconsiderate like that, but I promise his intentions are good, even if this was really misguided. I'm sorry."

Fey's red eyes narrow as she appraises Eleanor. "You are no child."

"Eleanor." She introduces herself, extending a hand, now free of its glove. Loki doesn't like that at all, but after a look from Eleanor he says nothing. Fey cautiously touches the back of Eleanor's hand. "I've been wanting to meet you for years."

"So you had your husband steal me? To what purpose, small one?"

"No," says Eleanor, smiling at her sister-in-law. "I would have definitely talked him out of this one if he bothered to tell me about it. He stole you because we need your help. He should have just asked you to come here, but he didn't because he's scared."

Fey laughs. The sound is like ice. "Your own wife mocks you, blood traitor."

Loki rolls his eyes. "She speaks true."

"You guys bicker like siblings," Eleanor says, grinning.

Loki and Fey both object mightily to that assentation.

"I'm pregnant!" Eleanor yells over the sound of their combined snapping. Like before, this announcement serves to quiet the room and Fey gapes at her, mouth falling open to reveal a set of wicked sharp teeth. "And I understand you were some sort of midwife back in the day."

Fey stares for a long time.

"Should we depart?" whispers Sigyn. "Give them privacy?"

"No!" says Jane. "This is way too good."

"We need your help, Fey. I'm sorry for the way Loki went about trying to get it," Eleanor continues, ignoring her friends.

Fey takes a deep breath, expelling a blast of icy air in Eleanor direction. "Remove my shackles."

"Mere minutes ago you threatened to kill me," says Loki, holding the chain that connects Fey's wrists a bit tighter.

"I will not kill you, nor will I harm your wife. Her, I like. She speaks what she thinks, a valuable trait indeed."

Loki hesitates, looking at Eleanor. She nods back her encouragement.

"You will need to trust me for this, if you truly expect my help. The shackles, spineless fiend," says Fey.

Loki waves his hand and the chains are gone. With a growl, Fey backhands Loki right across the face, sending him flying across the room.

Sif lets out a delighted laugh as Loki groans in the corner.

Eleanor winces and then raises an eyebrow at Fey who shrugs.

"I promised not to kill him. You can't deny he deserved that and more, Princess," says Fey.

Eleanor really cannot deny it.

"Yeah, okay. Just please don't do it again. I really like his face."

"What is the meaning of this!" The future king of Asgard sweeps out onto the balcony, flanked by ten Einherjar and making a great deal of fuss.

And noise.

The four gathered around a table, sipping wine – tea for Eleanor – stare up at him, unimpressed. When Sigyn gets over her surprise, she gets to her feet, offers Thor a hasty bow, and then takes her seat beside Fey. Although the Jotunn appears calm, her hand casually rests on her thigh where a weapon is undoubtedly hidden.

"More Asgardians?" she asks, watching Thor with narrowed eyes.

"Brother, the Einherjar are really excessive. Send them to the hall and I will introduce you to our guest," says Loki. He leans back on the loveseat he shares with Eleanor. Like his sister, he is a picture of relaxation but he pulls Eleanor to sit a bit closer, the arm around her shoulders a defensive measure rather than an affectionate one.

"Oh, is it guest now, not captive?" asks Fey. She smiles slightly and Eleanor hasn't figured out if the expression is supposed to be menacing or teasing.

Thor doesn't look like he finds it teasing, but he gives the order for the Einherjar to leave anyway, coming to stand behind Loki, facing Fey.

After Loki got bitch slapped across the room, the afternoon actually turned rather pleasant. Sif and Jane went down to the courtyard to spar while the rest talked baby. Within the first half hour of conversation, Loki, Sigyn, and Fey already came up with a brew to keep Eleanor warm. For the last few minutes, Sigyn and Fey have been excitedly comparing notes on Asgardian and Midgardian uteruses, and for the first time Eleanor thinks this might work out okay. Even Loki seems to feel a bit better.

Eleanor will not allow Thor's interruption to make Fey go all homicidal again. "Thor," she says. "This is Fey. Ruler of Jotunheim. Slayer of the menace Lau. Savior of her People. Perhaps you've heard of her?"

The future king sputters down at Eleanor. "I, yes, of course I've heard of you, Queen Fey. Asgard's continued mutually beneficial relationship with your realm will be a priority of my reign. This is not the setting I envisioned meeting you and I apologize for the lack of formality. Ideally," he says, glaring at Loki now, "the whole court would greet you and your delegation. We would feast you and throw a great festival in your honor."

Fey grimaces. Eleanor is reasonably certain it is a grimace. "I prefer abduction."

"Ah, a woman of my own heart," says Eleanor.

Fey smiles that terrifying smile. Eleanor wonders why Loki's teeth aren't so pointy when he goes blue.

"Sit, brother. Fey has no need for useless ceremony, nor do we," Loki says. "The safety of my unborn child and wife is no matter of state."

"Oh," says Thor as he pulls up a chair to sit at Loki's side. "Is that why you sent a band of Einherjar to collect our ally against her will?"

For once, Loki does not rail at his brother for being a fool, but he does roll his eyes. "Yes, of course. When I was organizing this alliance with Jotunheim I learned all I could of the more benevolent of Laufey's living heirs, including her birthing work before she became involved in dismantling the king's oppressive rule."

"You?" says Fey, tilting her head to the side. "You were dead. It was Odin who sought me out as an ally."

Loki shrugs. "It was my doing. For once, the Allfather listened to my wise counsel."

Fey hisses, crossing her arms over her wide chest and slouching in her seat. "The destroyer is also our savior. That makes it difficult to go on hating you. Although I shall give it my best effort."

Loki laughs and smiles his real smile, the one where his tongue finds its way between his teeth. Eleanor shares a secretive, pleased look with Thor.

"So tell me, Queen Fey—" starts Thor.

"Fey only, if you please, Asgardian."

Thor clears his throat. "Fey, please, what think you of my sister's pregnancy? I must admit I worry."

"With good reason," Fey agrees, reaching for more wine. "Never before has such a child existed, but theoretically such a pregnancy can be a success, although my knowledge of mortals is little."

"I'm working on that, " says Sigyn. "Next week I will be going to Midgard to learn under the tutelage of a Dr. Bruce Banner."

Eleanor chokes on her tea and turns to glare at her husband. "What? Are you just not telling me anything these days?"

Loki shrugs and kisses her quickly.

"He's not even an obstetrician!"

"A what?" asks Loki.

"A baby-delivering doctor."

"Midgardians have different types of healers?" asks Sigyn. "Fascinating."

"Do you know who is a baby-delivering doctor? Laura."

"Your false sister?"

"Yeah."

"Have you even told her about this pregnancy?" asks her husband.

"No," Eleanor admits, fidgeting in her seat. "Actually, Sigyn? You want to give my sister a call while you're on Midgard? Let her know about this whole pregnancy deal. Invite her to come to Asgard when she's free. Oh! And you should call my mom too. Okay?"

"Yes, Princess," Sigyn says with a sigh and a very slight eye roll. "I will do this for you."

"Cool," Eleanor says, feeling like an asshole for failing to figure out how to send word to her family before now. Loki banned her from using the Bifrost in her delicate condition, and writing a letter didn't seem quite right. "Anyway, Thor. You were saying?"

"Here..." Thor stops, carefully considering his words. "I am afraid that Asgardians are inherently wary of all things unknown. They feared and hated Eleanor when they first heard of her heritage."

"Called me an abomination. Ah, the good old days."

Loki huffs.

"And it is a concern of mine that they will not willingly accept this child, as there are many who still hold old prejudice against your people, Fey. Although this is changing. Do your people hold similarly unfair views on such mixed children?" Thor asks. He is so polite and careful. Eleanor decides this is good practice for when he is king.

Fey bares her teeth. "They best not. It is just the sort of thing we are working to change. Laufey was a cruel despot who started the practice of leaving small, weak, imperfect infants out to die."

At her side, Loki tenses and Eleanor sits up a bit straighter. Under the table, her hand finds his thigh and he does not hesitate to lace their fingers together.

Fey looks murderous again, her eyes glowing as she stares at the table, seeing a memory rather than what is in front of her. She slams a fist on the surface, making glasses rattle and Sigyn jump in her seat.

"When he did it to you, I remember it well." Her quite voice is nearly inaudible, so harsh and low. "It was my first birthing, the moment I knew what I would do with my future, but when you were born, Mother took one look at you and wailed. I did not understand her misery, despite hearing whispers of my father's practice and his goals to breed a race of perfect warriors. You were his son, his blood, and I did not understand Mother's misery. Lau did, of course, and she left immediately, but I followed Father as he took you away, pleaded but he left anyway and returned alone. We'd nearly lost the war at that point but I slunk out of the palace anyway, found you at the temple on the mountain, and brought you back. I kept you in my room for two days before Father found out. I spent the last month of the war in the dungeons. It was where the Asgardians found me before they settled their peace accords with Father. Why your Allfather allowed him to keep his throne is a mystery that nearly destroyed my people. And until you turned the full power of the Bifrost on us, I thought you dead. Lau knew it was you, knew it was you that lured Father to his doom. And I resolved to kill you in turn, but I suppose that is one self-promise I will not fulfill, not now when your wife is so lovely and you brought us back from the brink of Lau's cruel vision for my people. No one will hurt this child, not while I draw breath." Fey is fierce and deadly and Eleanor believes her.

For about the fiftieth time this afternoon, no one knows what to say.

"Excuse me," Loki murmurs, standing and moving to their bedroom with forced slowness, but just before he disappears inside he pauses. "I do apologize for how I brought you here," he says without turning to face them.

And then he really is gone.

"Well, fuck."

"Eleanor," Sigyn gently chastises.

"This is new information for your husband," says Fey.

"Yeah."

"He's a rather complicated fellow, isn't he?" Fey asks, head tilted to the side once more.

"How are you feeling?" Eleanor asks, using the hem of her billowing green gown to remove a nonexistent smudge from the Allfather's glittering armor. Loki barely keeps from rolling his eyes, and only because his wife is pregnant.

Odin tenses his shoulders, brow furrowed and thinking hard on her question. "Heavy," he decides, expelling a great breath of air.

"Heavy? That doesn't sound good. You don't have to do this if you don't want to. We can delay the whole thing," Eleanor says.

"That is really not an option, Eleanor," Loki says, sighing. He is not overly fond of the rare occasions when his wife elects to fuss over someone that is not Loki himself. He supposes this unreasonable jealousy is something he will need to overcome. as in a matter of months Eleanor will have their daughter to fuss over.

Somehow Loki does not think he will mind that scenario so much.

"I know!" says Eleanor, continuing to fiddle about with Odin's ceremonial armor. "I will disguise myself as Odin. I'm getting better with that magic. I can be Odin for the coronation and you can stay here and paint. We'll just say I'm sleeping or something."

"Don't be absurd, Eleanor. He's fine. We've practiced. And if he says the wrong thing, the public will simply dismiss it as age and a need to step down, which he is doing," says Loki.

"But he feels heavy, Loki," Eleanor says, very nearly whining.

"No, no," Odin shakes his head with great vigor. "This costume is heavy."

"Oh." Eleanor blinks at Odin and then smiles ruefully at Loki. "Yeah, well. Armor is heavy." She buffs away another nonexistent scuff from Odin's chest.

"Eleanor, really," Loki says, at the end of his patience.

"What about you?" she asks, turning to Loki when she completes her fretting over the Allfather. "Are you all right?"

He barely manages to refrain from rolling his eyes. If not for her pregnancy and the strange effect her hormones are having on her temperament, he'd tease her mercilessly for her worry, but she looks so genuinely distraught by the prospect of Odin unable to say the four requisite lines to officially crown Thor, or that Loki might be uncomfortable under scrutiny of all of Asgard for the first time as a free prince, a Jotunn, and a hero (false as this story might be). Instead Loki takes his wife's face between her hands, kissing her quiet.

Under his touch she is a shade too warm. There is a flush to her cheeks that usually only appears in those extremely rare moments that she experiences embarrassment or when she trains with Lady Sif or when she is hot for his touch, breath ragged and eyes burning with desire.

Obviously, this is none of those situations.

"Are you quite all right?" Loki murmurs, frowning as his hands drop to her stomach, sensing the little life that grows there. All seems well with the child who appears to be resting and content.

"Yeah," says Eleanor.

She has a hard-earned reputation for ignoring anything unpleasant, so Loki believes her not.

"Okay, so I feel a little queasy. It's a normal mortal pregnancy thing," she assures him, touching his hand where it rests against her womb. "This isn't a me ignoring bad things situation. I won't do that with this. It's too important. I just feel a little nauseous. That's all."

"It seems like quite a bit to me."

"Breakfast didn't sit well."

"Perhaps you should not be involved in the ceremony," he says, glancing at Odin who is watching them keenly, gripping Gungir, knuckles white.

"The ceremony is going to take twenty minutes. I can handle it. But if I still feel like this after, I'll skip the feast to go lie down. Okay?"

It seems like a fair compromise and Loki nods. "Next week I am demanding that your sister come here. And she will meet with Sigyn and Fey."

The prospect of the Jotunn ruler's return, with her anger and her tales of the past and her wicked smile, is not a pleasant one, but there is nothing Loki would not endure to ensure Eleanor and their daughter remain safe.

"Just don't kidnap anyone again, all right?"

He makes no promises.

For the second time in the last decade, Loki walks past rows of Asgardian elite in his full ceremonial armor, holding his head high as he makes his way to Odin standing before the throne, looking remarkably like the king he once was.

There are whispers as he passes this time round, while last time he was more or less ignored.

Much has changed in the years since Thor's first coronation was interrupted by Loki's mischief – mischief that turned much more dire than he ever intended – and the Aesir certainly notice him now.

On his arm, Eleanor is radiant, beaming and proud despite her discomfort. She looks royal and powerful in a gown that sparkles subtly as she walks. Although the majority of her focus appears to be on the crowd cheering and applauding as she passes, every few paces she gazes up at Loki adoringly and he realizes that this is the first time any of their audience has seen Eleanor and Loki together. They might know that Eleanor is Loki's wife, but seeing them interact as such is a different matter entirely.

Eleanor's arm in his gives him strength to make it through this farce of a day.

Last time it was his mother that he escorted, and this is perhaps the most painful change between this ceremony and the last. Even worse than discovering his true heritage, and the tortures he endured at the hands of the titan, is the loss of Frigga.

It is strange to appear as himself before the public. The horned helmet atop his head feels oddly light compared to the armor he's grown accustomed to wearing, and while his head knows that it is safe to be himself now, his body remains tense and anxious without the illusion he grew so used to wrapping around himself like the very best protection.

While Eleanor is smiling and engaging with the rows and rows of people, Loki looks straight ahead at the throne he gave up so willingly. Despite Thor's reluctant agreement to attempt dual rule on a trial basis, Loki knows better. Eventually they will disagree and Thor will dismiss Loki's opinion, using his legal right as king to spectacularly ruin the Realm Eternal without Loki's consent.

But his brother admitted to needing him. It is something.

They arrive at the dais and take their position on the steps below Odin, just to the left. He blinks at them, concerned for a moment, but he stands straight and tall again, comforted by Eleanor's reassuring smile.

Next, Sif, Fandral, Volstagg, and Hogun strut down towards the throne to take their place of honor upon the steps as Thor's most trusted consorts. The applause for them is actually quieter than it was for Loki and Eleanor. It takes him a moment to remember how ardently the people love his wife, as these warriors have always been and will always be far more popular than Loki.

Eleanor is beside him still, but she moves closer as the crowd roars at the appearance of Thor and Jane. She leans heavily into his side, squeezing his arm. For a moment he thinks she is providing him comfort, sensing his deep disgust with this pomp and circumstance and his own resentment that Thor gets all of this ceremony while Loki got nothing, but then he recalls her flushed cheeks and nausea.

"Eleanor?" he whispers.

She shakes her head. "I'm okay. Just queasy."

"We should leave."

"We can't leave. You especially can't leave. It will look bad. Send the wrong message. We need to present a united front, here. Really, it's not bad."

It is unseemly and unheard of during such ceremonies, but Loki wraps an arm around Eleanor's waist, sharing the burden of keeping her upright. She gives him a small smile that does nothing to disguise her discomfort.

While last time Loki stood in this spot at his brother's coronation, Thor grinned his way to the throne, triumphant and basking in the glory of the moment, now he is much more reserved. He now looks like a king, modest and aloof, but emanating such power and confidence with every step. Beside him Jane is wide-eyed and shaking. The golden dress suits her ill and he's never seen the scientist look more uncomfortable. It is a struggle to keep from laughing at the sight.

They both come to kneel at Odin's feet. The Allfather clears his throat and begins to recite his carefully memorized lines, but his voice is too quiet. A little of Loki's magic has him sounding like the king he once was.

"Do you swear to guard the Nine Realms?" asks Odin without much preamble. After the last disastrous coronation, and those years when Thor refused the crown in favor of languishing on Midgard, king and public alike want a short ceremony.

"I swear."

"Do you swear to preserve the peace?"

"I swear."

"Do you swear to cast aside all selfish ambition and pledge yourself only to the good of the realms?"

"I swear."

"And you, Jane Foster, formerly of Midgard, do you swear as your husband swears?" asks Odin. Loki is sure that his wife is relieved that the Allfather managed to get his daughter-in-law's name correct. Although hearing Jane proclaimed Queen Goat would have been undoubtedly amusing.

"On this day I, Odin Allfather, proclaim you Thor Odinson, King of Asgard, the Realm Eternal, and Protector of the Nine Realms, and you Jane Foster, Queen of Asgard, the Realm Eternal."

His speech complete, Odin officially crowns Thor and then Jane, announcing the new King and Queen of Asgard. To deafening cheers, the new King and Queen of Asgard rise and turn to face the public, raising their joined hands and smiling. Loki lets go of Eleanor to join in the applause as he is most expected to do.

"Loki," his wife murmurs. Her hands fist at her sides in the fabric of her dress and she sways slightly, face pale now where only moments ago she was flushed.

Before he can reach for her, a typically oblivious Thor pulls Loki into a bruising hug.

While Thor's last coronation ended abruptly with Jotunns in the weapons vault, this time it is the collapse of Asgard's most beloved princess that causes the crowd to gasp and scream.

"So the three of you are all in agreement, then?"

Her head pounds and Loki's voice reaches her ears as if he is speaking through a pillow, muffled and too far away.

"For the hundredth time, yes." That sounds like Laura. Eleanor must be dreaming. She hasn't seen Laura in a year, not since she brought her family to visit Asgard, although she is due to bring the kids and Maureen in a few weeks. "Mother and baby are fine. It was a blood flow issue. The baby needed more than Ellie could give. I can't believe you fixed it, just like that."

"Magic is quite useful at times." And that's Sigyn. She sounds far too cheerful, given that Eleanor's head is about to explode and that her eyelids don't seem to be listening to her commands that they open. "I would very much like to exchange knowledge with you, Lady Laura. Do you intend to stay long?"

"I guess," Laura says. In her mind Eleanor can clearly see her sister's annoyed expression, equal parts put out and worried. "I mean, I need to go home first and take off time from work and figure out how I'm going to do this with my family, but I want to be here. Now I feel like I need to be here, or at least be in New Mexico where it isn't so hard to get to the Bifrost."

"I worry about the small one's growth," says Fey, her deep, rough voice a shock. "There are things the babe needs that Eleanor is ill equipped to provide."

"Devise a way to provide it, then!" snarls Loki.

"Calm, little one," murmurs Fey. "I will do this and I am supremely confident in my success."

"You best be successful. And why is she not awake?"

"I'm awake." Her mouth is dry and her eyes are still not opening, but she is certainly awake.

"Eleanor?" His hands cradle her face.

"What the fuck happened?"

"You collapsed during the coronation," Loki says, much gentler with her than he was with the three woman he's gathered to oversee her health care. "Please, my sweet songbird, open your eyes."

She somehow manages to open her eyes, hissing against the bright lights that illuminate the room. With a wave of his hand Loki dims them and Eleanor is somewhat alarmed to realize that it is completely dark outside. She's lost hours.

"The baby?" she asks, suddenly panicking. Somewhere a machine beeps incessantly and Eleanor attempts to sit up too quickly, her head spinning.

Four sets of hands are on her, everyone giving her instructions to move slowly and sit up with caution. Loki hisses at them until he alone is crouching next to her, gently helping her sit up.

"The child remains unharmed," he murmurs as he props her up on pillows. His hand comes to rest on her stomach. "As are you. I've never been more frightened."

"Sorry," she says, wincing. "I really thought I was okay. Just a little off and then all of a sudden the world was swimming around me."

"It will not happen again," Loki murmurs, pushing her hair off her forehead. "You have been ordered to stay in this bed for the remainder of your pregnancy."

"What?" Eleanor shrieks. "How long is that even going to be?"

"As far as we can tell," interjects Sigyn, "In total it will be anywhere between the nine months typical of mortal pregnancy and the thirteen of the Jotunns. Asgardians fall around twelve months."

"You want me to stay in this bed for a whole year?" Eleanor asks, scowling at her husband.

"Less now, in all likelihood," says Sigyn. She finally succeeds in drawing Eleanor's attention away from her husband sitting on the edge of the bed at her side, to the three pregnancy experts loitering behind him. "Time of conception is now over four months past and we will have a better idea when you are fit to deliver as we track the child's growth. Really, Princess. We are all in agreement. You must rest."

"You can walk yourself to the bathroom," says Laura, moving to sit on the bed beside Loki. He glares his scariest glare at her, but Laura ignores him completely as she reaches out to take Eleanor's hand. "But you can't shower unsupervised. And you can sit on the balcony for three or four hours a day for now, but that's it, Eleanor. You need to mostly stay horizontal and not do much walking. Blood flow appears to be an issue. And so does the size and stability of the uterus. We need to keep your blood pressure down."

Eleanor takes a shaky breath and nods, taking note of the hodgepodge of mortal hospital equipment, soul forges, and some strange blue rock sculptures with glowing runes.

"Wow," she murmurs. "You guys were busy."

"Fey and I have long anticipated this need to stay off your feet. You are lucky you've gone so long with no problems emerging. At the first sign of stress to you or the little life, I planned to order you to bed but so far at your daily check ups all has remained well."

"Until now," growls Fey.

"Until now," agrees Sigyn.

"Fine," Eleanor mutters, crossing her arms over her chest. The pounding in her head is gone and she doesn't feel so dizzy. "I will fucking stay in this fucking bed for fucking ever."

Loki appears to be shocked by her easy agreement.

"So," says Laura. "It looks like you are knocked up and your husband isn't dead. This whole thing isn't shocking at all. Thanks for having your friend call me. I'm really glad we got to share the joy of this announcement together. You really made it special."

Eleanor gives her most apologetic smile and attempts to look particularly pathetic and pregnant. "Oops," she replies."

"You really freaked everyone out," says Jane, looking far more comfortable in a pair of leather pants and a basic pink tunic as she lounges on the end of Eleanor's bed than she did in the golden dress she wore to the coronation. "Like, there were people weeping and general chaos. I thought Odin was going to totally lose it, and then Loki poofed you away."

"Poor Odin. I think he slept on the balcony last night. And Loki poofed me away?"

Jane nods and grimaces. "That's probably where all the rumors are coming from that he did something to you."

"Oh, for fucks sakes," mutters Eleanor, rolling her eyes as she adjusts the pillows keeping her propped up.

"I mean, we've announced the pregnancy and explained that you are fine, but I don't know if the public totally believes us."

"Well at this point you can't really blame the people for being suspicious," Eleanor admits. "I mean, Loki's come back from the dead for a second time and they have Thor telling him he is pardoned and redeemed. It's a lot." She does not like the public's fear and sometimes hatred towards her husband, but she actually does understand their distrust. It's been quite the saga with Loki in recent years. "How was the party? I'm bummed I didn't get to sing."

"There wasn't a party," Jane says, rolling from her back to her side. She props her head up on her elbow to better study Eleanor. "I mean, the public still got food and drink, but no one felt much like celebrating."

"Aw, that's nice."

"After Fey, Sigyn, and Laura determined that you would be fine, Thor and I did get hammered with the warriors though."

"Sweet. Very royal."

"And I think some of the elite were only faking sympathy which was so annoying, but the public seems really, really, really worried about you."

"Love of the people," Eleanor murmurs.

"How did you manage that?"

"I sang for them," she replies, remembering her first performance fondly. For once when she thinks about Frigga there is only a dull ache, rather than a sharp sting. "And then very publicly took charge of the aid effort after the attack. Oh, and I did have that orphanage built and reformed."

"None of that sounds like something I can do."

"We'll figure it out. If you don't want to be in the public eye you don't have to be. You can focus on the science. I know that's what you want," says Eleanor.

"Well, at least while you're on bed rest I'm going to try to fill your shoes. As daunting as that may be."

"Yeah, this is some terrible timing for you. Sorry, Jane."

"Do you think... Never mind."

"No, what is it Jane?"

"Never mind! I don't know what I'm talking about. I've only been living here for a few months and queen for a few days. I have no idea what I'm doing."

"Let's hear it, Foster. Don't be shy."

"Well, I was thinking it might be good for the public to see you, alive and happy. To see you with Loki. They've never really seen you two together as a couple and that will ease a lot of fears that something horrible happened to you and we are just covering it up," Jane says, talking super fast. "Is that not right?"

"It's brilliant, Jane. We might make a queen out of you yet."

It takes four days and the very irritated assurances of three baby doctors to finally convince Loki that Eleanor can handle spending ten minutes in front of the public, looking happy and pregnant and certainly not dead at her husband's hand. It does not bode well for these next long months, and Eleanor is reasonably certain that Loki's protectiveness is going to make her loopy by the time their daughter is born.

Eventually Loki agrees to the appearance, but when a make up celebration is organized to give the public and the crown the party they missed when Eleanor ruined the coronation, Loki absolutely bans her from attending the festivities, even for a few minutes.

Neela brings Eleanor a new dress for the occasion. The pale green number has a modest neckline, only a little bit of metalwork at the collar, and somehow is cut to make her mostly still flat stomach appear round.

"Wow," says Eleanor to the mirror as Neela fiddles with her hair, tucking it around her tiara just so. "I actually look pregnant."

"Well, aren't you?" asks Neela. The teasing delights Eleanor and is not something that would have occurred just a few years ago when she was still a shy servant girl. Now she is essentially Eleanor's personal assistant. She's even taken over teaching music to the children Eleanor first met after the attack.

"Sure am," Eleanor replies, grinning.

Loki insists on keeping an arm securely around her waist and cannot seem to stop touching her belly until they step out onto the balcony to the thunderous cheers of the Asgardian public, gathered in the square below. Eleanor beams and waves, allowing herself to look as happy as she feels. It is a strange and wonderful thing, appearing with her husband at her side. Although they've always been a team, now the public can see it.

Odin is beside them as well. He looks stern and smaller without the shining armor of the king. Eleanor can tell he is mentally painting something rather than paying the slightest bit of attention to the crowds. She reaches out to squeeze his hand, earning herself a shy smile.

Thor makes some speech on the strength of the house of Odin, discussing the future and the next generation currently cooking in Eleanor. He speaks with a bit more eloquence, but Eleanor mostly looks at Loki.

In the sunshine he is beautiful, but so hard and impassive when he looks out at the crowds. She can see his discomfort, but she imagines to the public he looks completely unlikable, bordering on scary. So while Thor drones on, Eleanor playfully bumps into Loki. He frowns down at her, raising a single eyebrow. She beams up at him and mouths "I love you" as she moves his hand from her hip to her magically round-looking stomach. Loki immediately softens, gazing down at her like she is precious, like she's a wonder.

When they both go back to pretending to pay attention to Thor, he looks like the adoring husband he is, rather than the terrifying menace the public thinks him to be.

At the end of the speech the rest of the royal family waves and goes back inside. Feeling inspired, Eleanor pulls Loki to the railing, encouraging him to wave. He does so, appeasing her for a few moments without looking away from her face. Deciding that the people who love her deserve a bit of a show if she is going to disappear into their bedroom for the remainder of this pregnancy, she gives him a smirk and an eyebrow waggle before pulling him down into a kiss.

The cheers are nearly deafening.