Part II: In the Dark
Chapter 55: Lenara
"So, what you are saying is, no sex."
"Right."
"None at all."
"Yeah."
"No sex, none at all, even though you are trapping me in a bed for months. You are trapping me in a bed for months and I can't even do what beds are made for?"
"Beds are made for sleeping."
"Wow, I pity you."
"Ellie!"
"So no sex."
"Again, yes."
"What about oral?"
"No, Ellie. Come on."
"Hand jobs? Groping of any kind?"
Loki leans in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, and considers intervening in this circular discussion between sisters that's gone on far longer than necessary. Eleanor, now confined to their bed for the majority of the day, is not taking this most recent direction from her healers well. Loki isn't overly thrilled with this sexual ban either, but abstinence seems a small price to pay to ensure that Eleanor and their daughter remain healthy.
Laura groans, burying her face in her hands as she continues to pace near the foot of the bed. Propped up on numerous pillows, Eleanor glowers.
"How about sex only three times a week," suggests his wife.
"Only?" asks Laura, gaping.
Eleanor shrugs. "It's a compromise."
"No sex any times a week."
"Twice a week?"
"No."
"Once a week?"
"No! Look, Elle, the whole point of bed rest is to limit stress on your body. Sex is too much physical exertion," Laura says, struggling to sound like a professional healer when it is obvious that she would very much like to strangle her younger sister.
"I'll just lie here. Loki will do all the work." Eleanor smirks at him. "Right, babe?"
"Do not call me babe," he replies.
"It's not about just lying there!" Laura says, frustration boiling over. "All the things we are trying to avoid by making you stay in bed will happen if you do it! Your blood pressure goes up, which will be really bad. Your heart rate. You can't have sex!"
Eleanor pouts, slumping further down into her pillows.
This is the first day of this bed resting, and already Eleanor's mood is most foul.
These months ahead are sure to be very long, very tedious.
"What is this?" Loki enters his bedroom after a long morning spent at Thor's side, helping the new king navigate the arduous process of reworking the treaty to ensure continued peace and trade between Asgard and Fey's new regime. The counsel is far from pleased, but two months into Thor's reign and so far Thor and Loki are managing to present a completely united front.
Asgard's elders are finding it near impossible to argue with both brothers.
"Television," says his wife, happily popping a blackberry in her mouth and wiggling her toes.
"I know it is a television," he says, shrugging off his coat. He turns toward the servant girl Neela where she sits in a chair beside the bed, a stack of sheet music in her lap. Under his scrutiny the servant-turned-assistant-turned-director of Eleanor's choir of children cowers. "You may go. I will stay until two hours past midday. You then must return or send someone to watch Eleanor in your stead."
Neela nods, bows to Eleanor and then Loki before fleeing. Loki sits on the edge of the bed to better pull off his boots. Eleanor has a firm no boots rule in bed. It seems preposterous now that she takes all her meals here, but Loki knows better than to challenge his temperamental wife over such a minor issue.
"You make it sound like I need a baby sitter," she says, sulking.
"You do need a baby sitter," he replies as he continues to strip off layers of metal and leather. "I know that this is a television. Where did it come from?"
"Tony."
"Stark?"
"Yeah, sent it up with Laura and Jane installed it this morning. He figured out how to power it so I don't even have to waste energy magicking it to life. He programmed like a million movies and TV shows into this thing. Check it out." She begins to scroll but Loki is now in a state of undress that facilitates crawling into bed beside his wife without worrying about causing her discomfort with some bit of armor or another.
"So many want to visit my wife," he murmurs, crawling on all fours until he is looming over her, careful to keep from actually touching her, save for one hand against her cheek.
Eleanor grins up at him, arms looping around his neck. Even in her ridiculous Midgardian hoodie and sweatpants that have become her standard bed rest wear, he finds her unbearably attractive, especially now that her stomach has started to swell.
"I'm very popular," Eleanor tells him. "Everyone likes a pregnant lady."
"I know I do," he replies, kissing her soundly. He then rolls off her before the whole thing can become too terribly frustrating for the pair of them.
"I haven't spent any time out of bed today," she says, staring intently at his mouth.
"Oh?"
"Eat lunch with me on the balcony?"
"Yes, lovely."
With each passing day getting Eleanor up and out of bed becomes a bit more difficult. She moves with a slight waddle now and Loki has the good sense to keep from laughing at her, despite the humorous picture she presents with her messy hair and ill-fitting garments and ludicrous gait. Instead he simply guides her with a hand on the small of her back to the loveseat, where he settles her, making sure she is supported on all sides with a plethora of pillows. A fur thrown over her legs is the final touch.
"Comfortable?" he asks.
Eleanor pulls the hood of her Midgardian top over her head and nods.
He sits beside her and she immediately leans into his side.
"We need a name," she says.
"I have told you. There is only one name I like in all the realms."
There is no need to look at her face to know that she rolls her eyes.
"We are not naming our kid Eleanor."
"But why not?" he very nearly whines.
"Because, like I've told you eight million times—"
"Exaggeration."
"It feels weird and narcissistic to name her after me. And you hate nicknames so you'll just go around calling her Eleanor and getting mad at me when I call her Ellie or Elle or Nor and it will be confusing and terrible. So, no."
"You are being unreasonable."
"Okay," she says in that way she always says the word when she is about to go on some sort of diatribe. "I am pregnant with a child that is three distinct species and that's kinda traumatic, being as my weirdo body is two distinct species. I am huge already and I still have another three to seven months of this situation left, and I'm bound to my bed, which is good because my back kills me if I sit up for more than an hour, and I'm hungry all the time, and fucking bored, so the point is I am allowed to be unreasonable, but this? This naming thing? I am actually being completely reasonable despite all the aforementioned reasons I have to excuse unreasonableness. What's your excuse, bucko? Because only liking one female name in all the realms is distinctly unreasonable."
Loki chuckles and is thankful Eleanor laughs also, instead of flying into yet another tantrum.
"You are lucky I'm so painfully in love with you," she says, fighting her smile.
"On that we agree. Would you like me to braid your hair?"
A hairbrush appears in the palm of her hand and Eleanor hands it over, giving a silent answer. Loki moves to stand behind her as she pulls down that thrice damned hood that she is so very fond of these days. He takes his time working the comb through her wild locks and Eleanor hums a bit in contentment. Loki learned to do this a month past when Eleanor first found holding her arms up to be too much of a trial and started having Neela braid her hair. The whole thing appeared far too intimate for Loki's liking and he took over not long after. Now he entertains himself, experimenting with different braids in elaborate patterns. Eleanor simply laughs at his more hideous attempts and never removes his work until she bathes.
Today he goes simple, quickly putting in two braids following the crown of her head, going in opposing directions. He is pleased with his neat work and secures the braids before pulling up Eleanor's hood once more, ever mindful of Eleanor's struggles to stay warm.
"What about Frigga?" Eleanor murmurs sometime later when Loki has a tray containing her healer-approved lunch laid out before her.
Loki pauses with a goblet of wine halfway to his lips.
"Pardon?"
"Do you like the name Frigga?"
To give himself another moment to collect his thoughts, Loki drinks long and deep. He's of course considered this, as it is a common practice on Midgard to give children names of departed family members. Of course he likes the name Frigga, but when he simply hears it in passing something painful stabs his heart and he could not bear speaking it so often to his daughter.
"I could not, Eleanor," Loki says. "Speaking it is too painful. Maybe someday saying her name will not bring me such sorrow, but now it does and I would not feel sadness when speaking with our daughter."
"Okay," Eleanor says, squeezing his hand for a moment.
And that is that. At least for now.
From behind his closed bedroom doors comes music, excessively loud music with too much bass and not enough melody. He rests a hand on the doorknob and allows himself a moment to prepare to see his increasingly agitated wife.
Four months into her bed rest with apparently at least two to go, and Eleanor is a terror. She is huge, bored, and uncomfortable, despite the endless parade of friends that seem to pour through the Bifrost daily to sit with her. He can hardly begrudge her discontent, but the situation wears on Loki as well.
Often she magically plays a horde of instruments to keep herself entertained, the styles ranging from mournful orchestral pieces that quickly devolve into the absurd, or something truly horrific she refers to as dubstep that seems to involve no actual instruments at all.
Whatever is happening behind the doors today, it is certainly terrible if the pounding bass is any indication.
Loki longs for earplugs, but the last time he attempted this trick Eleanor was inexplicably hurt by his desire to not go deaf, crying and accusing Loki of no longer appreciating her voice. He longs for a return of his sane and steady wife, but they have some months yet until such a thing is likely.
Stealing his nerves, he pushes open the doors.
It is worse than anything he could possibly imagine and in his horror, Loki freezes
Although the wide array of floating musical instruments is rather standard, the sight of his hugely pregnant wife jumping on the end of their bed and flailing her limbs about is not. How she is even managing to move with such agility when she typically needs assistance waddling the short distance to the balcony is a mystery, but Loki is too stunned by his wife's reckless and incomprehensible behavior to find any logical explanation for what is before him.
"Hey, baby!" Eleanor says when she sees him. Over the loud music that vibrates the very air of the room, she must scream at him.
"What are you doing?" he hisses, stomach twisting.
"Dancing!" she replies, ceasing her jumping to do some truly bizarre pelvic thrusting that looks completely absurd given her current girth. "I'm fucking rocking out."
"Sit down this moment!" he yells, moving to stand beneath her. "Stop this immediately before you do lasting harm to both—"
There is giggling coming from the lump beneath the blankets on their bed and Loki has a moment of understanding and profound relief.
Glaring up at whoever is wearing Eleanor' skin and dancing like a lunatic, he jabs two fingers into the imposter's hip, feeling the magic ripple and dissolve.
"Hey!" shouts Darcy Lewis, now wearing her own face and using her own voice. "Hands off the merchandise!"
Eleanor's head appears from beneath the furs and his wife is grinning widely, happier than he's seen her in days. "Got yah!" she exclaims.
It has been centuries since someone has dared turn such mischief upon him and Loki can do little but groan as he collapses face-first into their bed. He barely hears the sounds of Eleanor and Darcy laughing and congratulating each other for successfully causing Loki to nearly expire from fear over the sound of his pounding heart. The music stopped when Loki figured out the prank. It is one small blessing.
When he is able, Loki blindly crawls up the mattress until he is resting beside his wife, groaning into her shoulder as she runs her hands through his hair.
"We got you good," murmurs Eleanor.
"We are hilarious," declares Darcy.
"You are cruel," Loki says, opening his eyes to glare at Miss Lewis. Eleanor's brain has been malfunctioning for weeks and as such the young, annoying mortal continuing to bounce on the end of their bed is entirely to blame.
"You made me think you were dead for like years," says Darcy, pointing an accusing finger at him. "Consider this payback, bitch!"
Loki sighs heavily, wondering where he went wrong and when Darcy Lewis stopped fearing his every movement and breath.
"Loki, I can barely waddle around the balcony for my daily workout. You know I can't jump like that! And I can't believe you thought I would really do something so dangerous! You think I'm a terrible mother already!" Eleanor shrieks, her grip a bit too tight on his hair.
Eleanor's proved immune to logic recently, so in reply Loki merely kisses that particularly ticklish spot on her jaw that has her giggling and forgetting all about her ridiculous anger.
"Gross you two," Darcy says, giving a final jump before letting herself sit cross-legged on their bed. He resists the urge to kick her off the edge. "Get a room."
"We are in a room," Loki grumbles.
Eleanor is never alone.
When Loki is forced to attend some meeting or another at Thor's side, Neela sits with her, or sometimes Odin or Bragi, escorted by several Einherjar who return him to his white cell when Loki returns. Her false mother and sister make frequent use of the Bifrost to be by her side in this time of immense stress and terrible boredom.
In the ninth month of her pregnancy, Eleanor's magic abandons her and she is no longer able to entertain herself by playing all her instruments at once. At first she panics, sending the emotion to Loki so deliberately and so powerfully over their bond that Loki jolts, fleeing the meeting with the council without so much as an explanation.
Typically Loki himself must access the bond and go searching to determine Eleanor's feelings but so great is her distress now, that he feels it without any effort, and Loki panics himself until he gets to their rooms and fully understands the situation.
He holds her and explains that her magic is simply beyond her reach at the moment, solely concentrating on nurturing the little life within her. With understanding Eleanor's panic turns to sorrow and dread that only dissipates when Loki floats their bed out through the gardens. Winter is nearly at its end now, but the cold seems to breathe new life into his wife and he curses himself for not thinking of this before.
After Eleanor loses her magic Loki stays close, sentencing himself with bed rest as well, and he leaves only when it is absolutely necessary.
As Eleanor enters what they all hope will be the final month of her pregnancy, she calms and seems to return more to herself. For Loki, it is a shocking turnabout when compared with months of strange demands, drastic mood swings, and childish pouting. Gone is her former hysteria and while her limbs remain restless, she is at peace. As time passes Loki's fear grows, but Eleanor becomes more centered and Loki strives to follow her example, but he still ensures that they adhere to every detail of the orders given to them by all three of Eleanor's healers.
Sigyn insists that Eleanor spend exactly fifteen minutes a day, split up in five-minute sessions, on her feet and walking. Laura gives them cocoa butter to rub into the marks caused by the stretched skin over her massive form. Eleanor likes the smell and Loki quite likes touching her. As per Fey's decrees, Eleanor happily sucks on cubes of ice.
On many days it feels as though they've together been banished to the Isle of Solitude, just Loki, Eleanor, and the little life they created, alone in the universe. It is quiet and perfect and Loki understands now that while he was masquerading as Odin and consumed with the responsibilities of ruling, he missed his wife. Although she was there during the long days, often sitting in on meetings, the constant lying took its toll. They awoke early and retired late, with very little time to just be.
In many ways, the quiet weeks at the end of her pregnancy remind Loki of his first weeks in New Mexico, when they stayed in her miniscule cabin, venturing no further than the craggy rocks that formed their backyard. Then Eleanor filled all his days, and although he was still fighting for his mind and had no understanding of his feelings for the songbird, she brought him peace as she does now.
He was unaware that they drifted apart during his rule, but now the bond between them seems to hum. It is as if he discovers a whole new way to love her, her every word a delight and her every expression a wonder. Even when they sit in silence, reading on the balcony despite the snow, Loki feels the hum and cannot help but watch her, cheeks rosy with the cold, round with his child, expression serene.
Without meaning to, he telegraphs his nearly overwhelming feelings through their bond, and Eleanor meets his gaze. She smiles, taking his hand and kissing his palm. Loki sighs and shifts until his head rests on her shoulder. They take turns reading aloud from Eleanor's ridiculous Midgardian novel – something called Harry Potter, that completely misunderstands the true workings of magic – so that the babe might learn their voices, a suggestion given to them by Laura.
And yet, Loki is terrified.
Eleanor falls asleep and the peace she somehow passes onto him in her waking hours leaves him alone and plagued by fear. At night he stares at the ceiling and listens to Eleanor breathe, his greatest fears cycling endlessly in his mind.
Something could so easily go wrong. Despite the assurances of three seemingly experienced healers, Loki is consumed with dread. Although Eleanor's pregnancy is a bit odd, baby and mother are healthy, but he is convinced that this will change. Carrying the child is one thing, but birth is another entirely and Loki could so easily lose the child he already loves before he can even know her. He could so easily lose Eleanor.
And even if by some miracle they all survive that dreaded and coveted event, there is the matter of parenting. How is he possibly going to manage to be a father when very recently he was insane and angry and willing to enslave Eleanor's beloved planet to get a throne he felt so entitled to?
He's sure to ruin the child.
And her mother as well.
And with these two most precious of persons ruined, Loki will be ruined also.
He tries not to wake Eleanor and it is difficult to keep from disturbing her, comfortable on her side, surrounded by pillows, but she gives off heat like a roaring fire and he very much needs to pace away the anxiety taking up residence in his chest.
There is more to it than just the very real possibility that he will fail as both a father and husband. Loki is alive again and soon news of his continued existence will reach the Mad Titan. Be it years or decades or centuries, the titan will come for Loki and he has so much more to lose now.
In the morning Loki's eyes are bloodshot and dry from lack of sleep. Eleanor takes one look at him before they even get out of bed and insists that he close the curtains. He flicks his wrist to do so and then settles with his head on her shoulder. Already her serenity soothes him, as does the steady movement of her fingers through his hair.
"Don't be scared," she whispers. "Everything is going to be fine. It will be better than fine. Wonderful, even."
"How do you know?"
"I dreamt it."
His wife is a warrior.
She would roll her eyes and laugh if he was to speak these words aloud, but they remain true. This is far from the first time he's had such a thought.
When they were still in the bunker all those years ago and Loki pressed his scepter to her chest, attempting to claim her identity, she raised her chin and looked him directly in the eye and her strength in that moment shocked him.
He was surprised once more on the top level of Stark Tower where she appeared all on her own accord, leaving the safety of the basement to assist with Loki's great failure.
Although the memories are far from clear, he recalls her fighting for him countless times when his mind was lost to him, both on Midgard when SHIELD threatened to torture her to get Loki to talk, and on Asgard when she raised her objection to Loki's punishment.
When he heard of Eleanor's attempt to protect Frigga as she slew an elf, he was no longer surprised by her strength, but it was heartbreaking to know that she was forced to kill, that she still blames herself for the queen's death, and somehow she's managed to bear her grief with much more grace than Loki.
Again and again since Loki took up the crown, Eleanor's proven herself a warrior. She's fought countless battles against a hostile nobility while ensuring that the programs she cares about flourish.
But she's never been more of a warrior than she was on this day as she fought to bring their daughter into the world.
He watches them both now, mother and daughter exhausted and asleep at his side, and Loki is without words.
The labor was shockingly easy, given all the fears they shared over delivering such a unique child, although it lasted far too long. He loathed himself as he was the cause of Eleanor's pain, but now he cannot bring himself to hate anything that allowed the small infant beside him to come into existence. Sigyn, Fey, and Laura probably occupied themselves with tasks that had some value, but Loki was focused entirely on Eleanor, and then, after hours upon hours of struggle, their daughter also.
From the moment Eleanor, dazed and terrified, announced her unlikely pregnancy, Loki wanted it as he has not wanted before.
He wanted Eleanor from the moment he saw her, but that want took time to evolve into something poignant and binding. That started as lust and did not frighten him so.
Before that, Loki wanted the throne but he sees now that this want was more complicated, a placeholder for his true desire to be respected and loved. Once he had that, it became very clear that he did not want it.
Not at all.
But this child he wanted from the beginning and it terrified him, continues to terrify him. Before Eleanor's announcement even, he wanted this. Perhaps even from the moment the Tesseract showed him the possible outcome of a blue-haired child at a piano. He buried those images so deep as a result of his want, willing himself to forget to the point where he did not even think to confess the possibility to his wife.
And after all this time and want, here she is.
Lenara, they decided to call her. A single name from lists of hundreds that Eleanor and Jane read off constantly, one that did not make him cringe or huff or roll his eyes, but instead he thought of light and stars, nebulas and fiery, bright power.
It is a good name, one that is all her own.
Lenara is so small. It boggles the mind, the fragility of this tiny creature that is really and truly his. He loves her in a way that he does not even love Eleanor.
Any who consider doing her harm will find death before they can blink. He's been secretly scheming to ensure the safety of his family since first learning of Eleanor's pregnancy.
But these possible threats must include Loki. He will not hurt this precious creature, not like his family (adoptive and birth) hurt him. There will be no lies of her heritage and his love will be unconditional. He will set no unrealistic expectations or belittle her strengths and interests. He will do nothing to drive her away.
She is less than ten hours old and Loki cannot yet believe that she is real.
With great caution he extends a finger, gently stroking the fuzzy blue hair atop her head. She does not stir and he watches the rise and fall of her chest, proof that she lives, she breathes, she exists.
Although hidden behind closed eyelids, her eyes are as bright and blue as her hair, the color coming from her mother rather than Loki. The smattering of indigo freckles spanning her nose must be indicative of her Jotunn heritage and he also might see himself in her nose and mouth, although her face is too small to tell for certain.
Now that she's arrived, he is without patience. He wants to know immediately who she is. Will she excel in magic as she excels in music? Will she enjoy ice cream? Will her anger come in destructive bursts like her father or slowly build into something utterly devastating like her mother?
Will she like him?
And beyond personality, he must know how her strange combination of genetics will present themselves. The possibilities are near limitless and Loki finds himself excited to see who and what she will be come.
But mostly he would know if she would like him.
"Loki."
Eleanor's voice is hoarse and quiet, but it shocks him nonetheless. He jerks slightly, tearing his gaze from his snoozing daughter to his no-longer-snoozing wife. Her face is not far from his, their bodies facing each other and curled protectively around the little life they've somehow managed to create. His wife yawns widely and Loki smiles at her with great affection.
"Hey," she whispers, running her finger over the blue fuzz sprouting from the top of their child's head.
Lenara's head.
"Hello," Loki replies. "My sweet songbird. My warrior wife."
As anticipated, Eleanor chuckles and rolls her eyes. The sound is dry and pathetic and enough to inspire Loki to climb out of bed – he does not like being away from his family, so fresh and vulnerable as they are – to the cart by the door. He pours Eleanor a glass of water and delivers it as quickly as possible.
She winces slightly as she sits up, lingering discomfort from the massive feat she performed less than ten hours previous. The whole glass is guzzled.
"Thanks," she says, handing him the glass.
"Do you require more?"
"No. Come back. We were having a nice little moment, don't you think?"
He conveys his hearty agreement by quickly retaking his former position next to Eleanor, with the little life they've managed to create between them.
"Hey there, Daddy," Eleanor says, smiling. She leans forward to kiss the corner of his mouth before settling back down on her pillows.
Loki frowns. "You do not think she will call me that, do you?"
Eleanor shrugs. "Maybe. I want her to know Midgard too. Like, we are going to have to live there for a little while or a couple months at a time or something. Who knows what she'll pick up while we are there?"
This is the first Loki's hearing of staying on Midgard, but he doesn't have it in him to roll his eyes or argue or even really care that Eleanor will be dragging them back to the dreary realm where she was raised. He is reasonably certain that she could ask him for anything in this moment and he would give it without hesitation.
Just look at all she's given him.
"You can be Father," Eleanor continues, smiling down at their sleeping daughter. "And I'll be Mom and she's Lenara."
"Yes," Loki whispers, unable to contain his smile.
"But I'm totally calling her Lenny."
And, just as he predicted, Loki offers no argument to this absurd nickname.
Lenara, wrinkling, pink little skin sack that she is, does not believe in sleep, it would seem. Also, she appears to thoroughly enjoy the sound of her own shrieking.
Although she's been alive for only twenty-seven days, her voice is big and grating and she only seems to not use it when Loki is required to be awake for one ruling duty or another. As Loki is refusing to leave Eleanor alone until they settle into something of a routine with their daughter, this involves Thor coming to him in their rooms, Jane in tow. They coo over their niece like she is the most precious thing in the whole of the universe – which she is, of course, second perhaps only to one full night of uninterrupted sleep. And Lenara blinks up at them, angelic and adorable, as if she did not spend all hours of the night crying for no discernable reason. Thor then attempts to discuss matters of state with Loki as he struggles to keep his eyes open and his mind on anything besides a desire to lean back in his seat, close his eyes, and never move again.
At first, Loki was convinced that there was something wrong with her, that her crying and the refusal to sleep through the night (or even much of the day) was indicative of some terrifying internal malformation or disease, but three separate healers and many thorough examinations say otherwise.
"She'll figure out that sleep is awesome when she figures it out," says Laura just before she departs for Midgard. "Relax."
Loki is unable to relax, but is too tired to truly notice.
Eleanor is perhaps no more of a mess than Loki, but she is worse at hiding it.
While Loki still manages to keep his hair and clothes neat despite his exhaustion and all the spitup, Eleanor has given up all attempts at personal hygiene. Her hair is huge and tangled. She smells of soured milk. Only half of what she says makes any sort of sense.
Jane and Thor always exchange looks as they leave, and Thor in particular does not understand Loki's refusal to allow a servant anywhere near their daughter to assist, but Loki is too exhausted to care or even assure them that there is no need to worry.
One morning they sit on the balcony after another night of no sleep. They face each other, Lenara in a bassinet between them, content now and her little legs twitching beneath her blanket. It seems so strange to love the thing responsible for his misery so fiercely. He should resent her, or plot her demise, or use magic to keep her silent, but he finds he is rather enjoying simply looking at her, despite how difficult it is to think with his mind so fogged.
Eleanor is in a similar state. She stares blankly at their daughter. In her hand is a mug of tea, but she seems to have forgotten the beverage and the cup is tipping down with each passing moment. It is sure to spill eventually. Hopefully Loki will have the energy to mention it before that occurs.
"Whoa, you weren't lying. This is horrifying."
Eleanor jumps at the sound of a new voice, dropping the mug. It shatters on the balcony. Loki simply stares at the woman standing under an archway, arms crossed over her chest, shaking her head.
"Darcy?" Eleanor manages and Loki understands her confusion. Although they had many visitors while Eleanor was on bed rest and when Lenara was born, after the first few days their many friends found it time to get back to their lives and to presumably allow Loki and Eleanor to bask in the joy of their new family.
"What are you doing here?" Loki asks. Perhaps yesterday he would have been embarrassed to be caught in such a state, as he has not yet even touched his hair, but this morning he is far beyond the point of caring.
"I brought her here." Jane is apparently here too, standing next to Darcy. "She's going to babysit."
"What?" asks Eleanor, voice utterly devoid of feeling.
"No," says Loki. "Absolutely not."
"Dude, I have four younger siblings. I am awesome with babies." Without waiting for permission, Darcy crosses the balcony and leans over Loki's daughter, cooing at the infant and rubbing her belly.
"No," says Loki again.
"Loki, you guys need a break," Jane says. "You look like zombies and it smells weird in here. Frankly, it's disturbing."
"We're fine," Loki insists.
"Are not," says Darcy.
"Are so," says Loki.
"Are not!"
"Look, it's just for the day. Darcy isn't going to take her out of the family section of the palace. It's just for a few hours," says Jane.
"And what do you propose we do all day?" Loki snaps.
"Sleep?" says Eleanor, sounding like she's on the verge of tears.
And that really makes the decision for Loki.
He stands to loom over Darcy, giving her his most menacing glower. Despite all the years they known each other and all the times Loki refrained from actually harming this girl, she still cowers and it brings him immense satisfaction.
"You will guard her with your life, Darcy Lewis," he murmurs. "Any ill that befalls her, even the smallest of hurts, I will release on you a thousand fold. Do you understand?"
"Yes, dude. Jeeze." Darcy rolls her eyes but her cheeks have paled slightly, so he knows he's succeeded in reminding her that Loki is dangerous.
"You will not take her from the royal suite and this includes the gardens. You will inform us immediately if the smallest of things is to go wrong."
"Got it."
Darcy and Jane take Lenara down to the gardens, fully equipped with everything the infant could possibly need and Loki turns to his wife, unsure what to do now that they are alone without an infant to care for.
"Sleep?" Eleanor asks, perking up a bit.
"Bath first," Loki decides, grimacing at her greasy, matted locks.
Eleanor lifts her arm, smells her pit, and wrinkles her brow. Loki grimaces some more.
"Okay, bath first," she agrees.
"Oh my god." Eleanor groans as she leans back into his chest, water lapping around them. He works shampoo through her hair and around them the steam is hot and scented with oils that make the water feel soft. "I almost feel like a person again."
Loki chuckles. He is satisfied that he's managed to work out all the knots – and there were many knots – in her hair. She is in dire need of a cut.
"Rinse," Loki instructs.
She does so and there is nothing left to do hygiene-wise but soak and enjoy. Loki too feels more like a person again.
"This is, like, really hard," Eleanor says.
"Indeed."
"And I thought I had a pretty good idea what it was going to be like, between the books and talking to people who've done the parenting thing before, but damn. It's hard."
"Indeed."
"But I also love that little sleep-hating wiggler more than I ever thought possible," Eleanor murmurs. She seems to be melting back into his chest, obviously on the verge of sleep, and Loki wraps his arms around her.
"I, as well, was ill-prepared for all this," Loki says. "But I do not recall ever being happier."
Eleanor hums and Loki's own eyelids droop.
It seems like a good time to give Eleanor the sleep she is so in need of, and she offers no resistance as he pulls her from the tub and wraps her in a towel.
They fall into bed without even bothering to fully dry or dress. Eleanor is already breathing heavily into a pillow as Loki pulls the blankets up to cover her bare back.
"We haven't had sex in months," Eleanor mutters and he settles by her side.
Loki grimaces. It seems far too soon since she expelled their daughter from her body and he is so exhausted he is on the verge of hallucinating, but if Eleanor insists he will find the energy.
He supposes.
"Yes," he agrees, sounding wary without meaning too.
"I hate it."
"As do I."
"But I need sleep more."
"Really, Eleanor. Should I be offended?"
She falls asleep in the middle of her laugh and Loki quickly does the same.
"Wake up, sleepyheads."
Loki grunts, aware that he just rested undisturbed for several hours but still greedy for more. He is flat on his back, face angled towards Eleanor. Her hand rests on his bicep.
"Come on, guys," says the same heinous voice that dare disturb his slumber. "Someone is fussy and hungry. Poor kid is salivating over my huge tatas, only to be disappointed."
Loki lifts his head to scowl at Darcy Lewis where she stands in the doorway, light flooding in behind her. At his side, Eleanor laughs and removes her hand from his arm to scrub her palms over her face.
"Give me a minute," Eleanor says, sounding like herself for the first time in days. "I've got to pull on some clothes."
"Really?" asks Darcy, Lenara wriggling in her arms, letting out the occasional hungry whimper. "I'm really babysitting so you guys can bang?"
"Ha, I wish," says Eleanor. "More like too tired to even get dressed."
"Welcome to parenthood!" says Darcy before leaving once more.
Eleanor sighs and rolls out of bed. She picks up a dress, smells it, and then drops the garment to the floor once more. She repeats this process three times before she finds a suitably clean tunic (his suitably clean tunic).
"You sleep a bit more, okay?" she whispers, leaning over him and kissing his forehead.
"If you insist."
"Oh, I do."
Without Eleanor and Lenara, Loki cannot seem to sleep. He tries valiantly for as long as he can bear it after Darcy calls Eleanor away, but he ultimately fails.
The secret plans he has been cautiously working on since he found out his wife was pregnant have been neglected too long, and although there is nothing he can reasonably expect to get done in this area while their lives remain so chaotic. Without his family to calm him, Loki feels panic expanding in his lungs.
After a few more minutes of deep breathing, Loki finally gives up on sleep. It takes him less time to find clean clothes and when he enters the main room Eleanor is squeezed into the corner of the couch, smiling adoringly down at their daughter, happily consuming her midday meal.
Darcy Lewis wanders around, picking up the clutter that never seemed to exist before Lenara. Some servant or another attempts to keep these rooms clean, but Loki is not comfortable with strangers so close to his progeny, and he has a bad habit of snarling at them until Eleanor takes pity them, giving them permission to flee before anything gets fully clean. The bedroom is even worse and now that he's had a few hours consecutive sleep, he's a bit embarrassed to have a mortal see their rooms in such disarray.
Semi-rested that he is, perhaps he could spare some magic on this task.
Instead of worrying further, Loki joins his family, wrapping an arm around Eleanor's shoulders and kissing her temple. He too smiles adoringly down at Lenara on her mother's breast.
"You two look better already," says Darcy. "I take full credit."
After lunch and more conversation with Darcy than Loki finds wholly necessary, Lenara falls asleep in his arms and Miss Lewis insists that they take another nap. He begrudgingly (and gently) places his daughter in her bassinette and does as the mortal says.
This time Loki dozes while wrapped around his wife and he does not worry about the possibility of losing his family.
Hours later Eleanor shakes Loki awake, and they once more venture into the sitting room only to find it dark and abandoned. Loki is prepared to tear worlds apart to find his daughter until Eleanor points out a scribbled note on a table.
Went to Odin's. Come eat and be social!
Sighing heavily, Loki resigns himself to an evening of being social.
"I'll be taking that, thank you," says Loki, deftly removing Lenara from Odin's arms to cradle her to his chest. Loki swears the corner of her mouth twitches up into a slight smile despite everyone telling him she is far too young for smiles, and he chuckles when spit bubbles form between her lips.
"But, Blue—"
"I haven't seen my daughter all day," Loki says.
"Not true. You guys only slept for a total of like five hours," Darcy says.
"It felt like all day," says Eleanor. She kisses Odin's cheek and then comes to press into Loki's side, running her hand over Lenara's fuzzy blue hair.
The entirety of the royal family and Darcy Lewis are seated around the table, large spread of food sitting untouched upon its surface. Apparently, they waited for Loki and Eleanor to eat. It is the first time he has seen Thor, Jane, and Odin at once since the first few weeks after Lenara was born and he finds himself not totally dreading this upcoming meal.
"Aw, you two are adorable," says Jane, annoying Loki enough to make him reconsider not dreading this upcoming meal. "Make that three, actually."
"I insist on having another turn holding Granddaughter Blue before this evening is over," says Odin, doing his best to sound stern but truly just whining.
"Not if you keep calling her that, you won't," snaps Loki.
"Lenara," says Odin with a sigh. "Lenara. Lenny. Len. Len."
"Come, Brother," says Thor before Loki can reply to the spread of Eleanor's ridiculous nickname. "Sit. Eat. See, there are ways to get out of those rooms, even with a newborn babe."
Loki nearly growls at his brother, but Eleanor is dragging him over to the two empty seats at the table. She fixes him a plate as he listens to Jane ask Eleanor some detail or another on some aspect or another of being queen and then eats with one hand, holding his daughter firmly with the other to his chest.
The evening is not wholly unpleasant. There is laughter, and for the first time in twenty-nine days, Loki remembers that there is a world outside that of their new daughter and the terrifying possibility of what might come for her.
Asgard and the realms continue on as they always have, but to Loki the universe is forever changed.
Remarkably, after an evening being passed from grandfather to aunt to uncle to mortal babysitter, Lenara sleeps through half the night.
Well there you have it. And baby makes three!
Big thanks to everyone who continues to read this sucker and leave me such lovely feed back.
And to my wonderful betas!
First beta: Heather
Final beta: Erica