Again, no warning needed. This chapter is Thor/Reader centric, but I assure you that will soon change...

Return home at once. We need you.

The tall prince reads the letter over in the encampment. Worlds away, in a military outpost, and Odin's demands were still ceaseless. Behind him, the woman he'd spent the last few nights with stirs under the heavy furs on his bed. "My lord?"

He folds the paper neatly into a small square. "What is it?"

Her voice is lilting and seductive. "Come back to bed, my lord." What was her name, Freydis? Whatever it was, she was good at her trade.

Loki turned to her. She smiles at him through thick lashes. "You can go," he said carelessly. "There's silver on the table."

She took it in her stride. "Thank you, my lord." He turns away as she stands, bare as the day she was born, and begins to dress. "Will you be fighting soon?"

"No." His cold green gaze rests on the note. "My father has summoned me back to Asgard."

The prostitute's laugh rings out. "I did not think you were a man to be summoned, my lord."

He frowns. "All children must concur with their parents wishes."

"I wouldn't know my lord, my parents died a long time ago."

"I don't care."

Her ornate jewellery tinkled as she came towards him. "Are you looking forward to going home? Or do you have some dour wife to return to?"

Loki's eyes narrow. "That's none of your concern."

"Oh, so serious!" The girl whose name he did not know laughed. "She must be hard work. What's wrong with her, is she cruel?"

"Not really."

"Ugly then?"

"Far from it."

She laughed again. "Then what's wrong with her? There must be something, if you'd rather be on a battlefield then in her arms."

He turns to her sharply. "I'm not paying you for your chatter. Take your payment and leave before I have you thrown to the men."

The prostitute faltered, her laughing eyes wide at his coldness. She recovered herself and curtsied. "My lord." Loki watches her leave. Once the entrance to his tent had flapped shut, he drops into a chair, glowering at the letter. So it was back to Asgard. Back to his father, back to his brother. Back to her.

Sighing, you strode through the palace. Passing a member of the einherjar, you command him to stop. "Where is the King?"

"Training grounds, your grace."

You roll your eyes fondly. Several years on the throne and yet Thor was still the same prince you'd fallen in love with. "Thank you." You continue, nodding politely at the servants and courtiers who bow to you along the way. Reaching the yard, you paused with one foot dangling above the dirty, dusty ground. Glancing at the fine fabric of your gown, you step back and scan the area, your eyes finding no trace of your husband.

The two of you were going to be late to the feast. You hurried around the edge of the grounds, keeping a lookout until finally a familiar golden head catches your eye. Making your way as close to him as the clean floor would allow, you open your mouth to call out a reminder that he truly could not afford to be late to another diplomatic mission.

Then your eyes narrow. He was sparring; but not with Lady Sif, or Fandral, or any of his common partners. The lean, black-clad man currently slicing a knife dangerously close to your beloved's throat was him. Loki. Your spirits dampened immediately.

A low chuckle echoes across the yard and you are greeted with the sight of Loki's knife pointed under Thor's jaw. "Killed you," came that velvety voice.

"Aye," your husband concedes, hands in the air. Just as Loki lowered the knife triumphantly, Thor kicked his legs out from under him, sending him sprawling to the dirt. Loki jumped up immediately, a snarl on his face as his brother laughed. You smirk. Anything that made Loki lose his icy composure pleased you.

"Thor," you called.

He turns at the sound of your voice, an affectionate smile on his face. Loki too looks your way, but you ignore him. You gestured and Thor jogged over to you. Leaning in to kiss him, you squeak in sudden outrage as his sweaty and dusty hands go to your hair. "No!" You pushed him away, laughing.

He smiles at you again. "What brings you here?" he asked, ocean eyes sparkling.

You abruptly remember your mission. "We have a feast to attend." He nods, "In an hour."

Thor frowned. "What time is it?"

"Six."

He cursed, jumping up and over the stone railing with athleticism hidden by the bulk of his muscle. Then he sweeps you into a proper kiss; a deep, loving one that makes you wish you were both spending the night on furs beside a fire instead. Maybe you didn't mind the sweat and the dust so much after all. Thor releases you with one arm and tucks the other over your shoulder.

"Loki!" He calls back to the man still half across the grounds. "One hour, the feasting hall. We'll continue this there, brother." You didn't care to listen to Loki's reply, secure against Thor's side. The pair of you chatter lightly as you make your way towards the royal chambers.

"Where are you going?" He asks as you part ways outside the doors of your shared quarters.

"I need to put Magni to bed now or he'll be up all night."

Thor immediately lights up at the mention of his son and drops his hand from the doorhandle. "I'll come too."

"Absolutely not," you retorted, glancing at his clothing sternly. He looks exasperated, but concedes with a shrug.

"Tell him I'll be in to see him later." He told you as you rounded the corner. You give him a last smile before slipping out of sight. The royal nursery was mercifully only one corridor away - you could traverse the distance in a few minutes. As you approached it, the sound of Magni's cries reached your ears and pulled on your chest; your feet moved faster.

Entering the room, the handpicked nurses greet you in a somewhat dishevelled state. The three women are busy fussing and arguing over the infant in hushed but furious tones, their frantic actions clashing with the cosy cream-gold of the room. You instantly hold out your arms. "Give him to me."

They curtsy and sing pleasantries before handing Magni to you. The weight of the baby in your arms automatically eased any weariness from the day - even screaming and clamouring, your son brought a smile to your face.

"Hush now, my love," you coo softly, rocking him in your arms. "Mama's here, hush. Sweet boy, come now..." You dismiss them all with a nod and they left, eager to leave you to deal with him. You don't mind. You could happily spend whole days just rocking your son to sleep.

"Your father's coming to see you later," you tell him, strolling around the large room. Magni continues to cry. "He's making you a gift for your birthday, isn't that lovely? Yes, darling hush, hush..." You had the best part of an hour to quieten the babe, and he settled sooner in your arms than he did in anyone else's. As his eyelids drooped, you carefully laid him in the crib Thor had chosen for him.

Magni begins to fuss again as he adjusts to his new position and you bend over him, murmuring. Slowly rocking the crib, you watched the baby fall into sleep, utterly at peace with the world. Time flowed by, and soon enough you heard the nursery door softly brush open behind you. Thor, you thought, not glancing up.

He comes to rest just behind you, close enough that you can feel the heat from his body against your back.

"Well well, he is Thor's after all."

Your eyes widen and you straighten instantly. "What are you doing here?" You snap, turning to your brother-in-law. You had misjudged the distance; he was mere centimetres away, his form towering over you. Pushing him aside, you round the crib so that you hovered opposite him. Loki's visits came in two flavours - he either ignored you to the point of embarrassment, or he actively seeked you out to taunt you with barbed jabs. Either option came with a healthy dose of long, cold stares. Luckily, his visits to Asgard were few and far between.

"Why, I've come to see my nephew of course," he replies smoothly. You bristle as his cool gaze drops to your son. He cocked his head. "Well done sister. If you'd waited any longer Father would've had the marriage annulled ."

You glared. "I'm not your sister. Why are you here? Shouldn't you be off doing whatever you do to occupy yourself? I can only assume it involves torture of some kind."

Loki chuckles. "Touring the realms? Alas, if only. But I am nothing if not dutiful, and this is a family affair after all. What can a son do but obey." He looks at you critically. "Mother said you're feeding him yourself."

"Yes?"

His gaze dropped again. "Ah." That single, insinuating sound filled you with rage. "I thought your complexion appeared more feeble than usual."

"I can only assume your mother never fed you herself; I'm sure if she had you'd have swallowed some manners by now."

Loki's eyes flashed. "A true queen doesn't lower herself to such standards. Wetnurses are common folk, after all."

Magni began to fuss again. You'd long ceased to care about Loki's elitism, and you happily ignore him in favour of stroking your son's tiny blonde head. "Ignore the bad man, my love," you whisper. The soft hairs slip through your fingers as fine as thread, catching the light from the evening sun. Your eyes meet over the cradle. "He won't be here long." Loki's lip curled.

"Nor will you. The feast starts now."

You grit your teeth. Were you never to be rid of him? Bending down, you press a gentle kiss to the baby's brow before straightening your back. Brushing past Loki and drifting towards the door, you turn. He remained standing over the crib, hands clasped behind his back. It struck you how hard and sharp he had become with adulthood - any softness from his jaw had been melted away, and where he had once been wiry he was now sinewy and angular. His lips move.

"Loki." You snapped quietly.

He turns then, face perfectly devoid of any warmth. "Coming, sister dear." You both slipped out of the room. As the door shut behind you, he spoke. "Motherhood has turned you into a real she-wolf, hasn't it?"

Your lips press tightly together and he chuckles, following you closely through the palace like a dark shadow.

Loki offers you his hand in front of the whole feasting hall once you enter, and for propriety's sake you have to accept. His grip is cool and too tight, and you don't spare him another moments notice once you both reach the high table where Thor sits waiting. You take your seat on Thor's right and he takes his left. The Alfheimr ambassador dips his head deeply. "Your Grace."

"Forgive my lateness ambassador, I do hope you were not waiting long."

"Not at all." The light-elf's accent is heavy and his smile is easy. "I was just congratulating your husband on your son. You must be proud."

You smile back in acknowledgement, already liking him. Perhaps this feast would go easier than the last, you mused, reaching for your wine glass. Thor finishes his chatter and looks to you before rising to his feat. The nobles sitting at the front fall silent, and that extends quickly to the farthest reaches of the hall.

"My friends," Thor begins, "I welcome you to my hall and to my table. We gather tonight..."

It's the same rudimentary speech that is always given before ceremonial banquets and your mind wanders elsewhere. It comes back to you upon picking up some surprising words. "... and so, tomorrow at noon we will ride forth and quickly subdue the forces at our borders. I know for some of you this will be your third campaign this year already, and this time I will accompany you."

A cheer rises as you look at him, careful to keep your countenance clear. Normally you were privy to such matters, but he had sprung it upon you in the same moment he had his troops.

"I have no doubt," Thor finishes. "That this shall be a clean victory, and we may all return home to our families sooner rather than later. Skol!" The audience answers him in kind, and though it warms you to see how dearly he is loved by his people, you cannot help but feel a little petulant. Thor sits back down, and turns to you, already contrite.

"Such news."

He sighs. "Forgive me for not mentioning it to you. I did not realise I would be going." You frown and he explains curtly. "Father thinks it best."

You suppressed the urge to roll your eyes. "Your father isn't here," you remind him. Odin and Frigga divided their time between Asgard and strolling the realms, enjoying their twilight years. But even now, five years into Thor's reign, Odin's shadow hung over his son; still demanding and criticising. Sometimes you wondered if the Allfather was truly at peace with giving up his power. Thor's face is somewhat clouded, the telltale sign of a story beneath his words and you let it drop. You'd find out later.

The feast commences and Asgard revels, long after the food is gone and men have drunk their fill of mead. Thor dances with you several times before being pulled away by his friends and you let him go happily enough, dancing next with the Alfheimr ambassador.

"I do hope you'll tell your husband how very grateful we are for his aid," the elf said earnestly. "I feel that I do not know enough asgardian to communicate it properly."

"Your language is impeccable," you assure him. The music ended and a bawdy song struck up. Cringing inwardly, you gestured to a table. "Shall we?"

The elf smiles. "Please. I am not as young as I once was."

Guiding him through the throng, both of you seem relieved to sit again. A few tables away, half-concealed in shadows, the lithe figure of Loki sits, purring into the ear of a pink-cheeked servant girl, precariously balanced on his lap. He meets your eyes and smiles mockingly. You look away.

You ask the ambassador questions about his realm, his family, his interests, before guiding the conversation back to politics. "So, what precisely has happened at your borders?" you asked. "I beg your pardon, but I thought your magic far stronger than ours."

"Normally it is," the elf said gravely. "But there seems to be a far stronger force, an overwhelming force at has weakened our defences, and left the countryside open to invaders."

You imagined living somewhere that aliens could descend from the skies and start destruction overnight. "I'm glad Asgard is able to help."

He nods. "As am I. Now, your Grace, I am quite tired. I hope you don't find me rude, but I fear my bed calls for tonight." He stood and bowed, and you give him your hand to kiss before wishing him farewell. Not quite that tired yourself, you sit a while sipping your wine, watching people's revelry and making small-talk with passing courtiers.

Loki waits until the elf has gone before sidling over to you. "I see my brother has left you unattended, how very careless. Any beast passing by could carry you off." You ignored him. He relaxes into a chair at your side. "But then I suppose you'd be rather a heavy load to carry - you've not quite shifted that baby weight yet my lady."

"What piercing observations you make, Loki. You would make an excellent blind man."

He laughs. "Come now, my lady-"

"I am your queen," you remind him curtly.

"Not my queen." You give him an irascible look and he continues. "Tell me, are you worried for your beloved?"

You frown. "Hardly."

"Heartless of you."

"I do not worry for Thor," you retort with a snap, "because I have faith in him. Such minor events pose no threat to him."

Loki shrugged. "Stranger things have happened."

You narrowed your eyes at him and he observes you with a glittering gaze. "What are you saying?"

"Nothing." He crosses a boot over his knee, brushing against your gown. "I will of course, endeavour to keep my dear brother alive and free from harm." Something in his voice makes your spine curl. He has grown fearsome over the years, and now you find hidden meanings and slights in his every word.

"You know Loki," you say quietly, so quietly that he has to lean closer to hear you. "Sometimes I wonder if my husband puts too much trust in you. After all," you touch upon a subject that is intimate, a reminder of your past closeness, "the sting of an envious friend is sharper than a distant enemy is it not? And you must be so very envious, spending your life not quite measuring up to Thor."

Whatever amusement, mocking as it had been, that had lingered in his eyes disappeared. Loki stood and you stood with him, unwilling to concede to him in this. He bends his dark head close to yours, so close your noses nearly touch. "Sweet sister," he says, voice icy like the Jotnar winds, "your teeth have become fangs of late." He takes your hand and presses his thin lips against your knuckles, and your eyes never once move from his.

His mouth lingers - and then you feel a small, obscene swipe of his tongue over the skin. You snatch your hand back. Loki unfolds to his full height like a long, lazy snake, and waltzes past you.

Upon returning to your rooms for the night, you are surprised to find them empty. You call out for Thor but receive no answer. With a sigh, you take a lamp and leave once again. Sure enough, you find him in Magni's nursery, the infant asleep and ensconced in his arms. Quietly, you put down the lamp.

"Saying goodbye already?" you ask in a hushed tone as you come to stand beside your husband. Thor nods.

"You're to bed rather late," he said, just as quiet. "What kept you?"

"Loki." Thor sighs. "He hates me," you say bluntly.

His golden hair moves as he shakes his head wearily. "He does not. He's just... jealous."

You scoffed. "Jealous? Of what?"

Your husband sighed again. "Loki's been my closest companion since we were born. It's not unreasonable for him to feel shortchanged."

"I'm not trying to take you away from him," you defended.

Thor looks at you sympathetically. "I know that, but Loki's always been... possessive. I'm sure in time he'll come round."

"In time? Thor, it's been five years since we were married."

He drops his gaze back to the baby, and you both stand in silence. After a while he speaks again with a quiet voice. "I think there may be another reason besides that. I've begun to wonder if he had some... affection for you."

You barely refrain from snorting. "Thor, that's absurd."

He looked troubled. "I don't know," he mutters. "It's just a suspicion."

You roll your eyes. "You're blinded by affection. He dislikes me, and I him. That's all there is to it."

Thor gave that short nod that he did whenever his mind was already drifting and you watch him with fondness. His mouth quirks handsomely at the corner under your gaze. Soon he returns Magni to his crib, careful not to wake the child as he tucks the light blanket over him. You turn back towards the door. "We've a long day tomorrow - the council will want you to discuss instructions in the morning, and you'll have to leave me a list of urgent business to take care of while you're gone..." Your mind is already spinning thinking of how you'll have to change your routine and delegate duties.

"Father's offered to come and act as regent in my stead."

You look at Thor sharply. His face is disgruntled. "Did he offer, or did he dictate?"

"He says it's in your best interests, since you're a mother now."

"Dictated then." Thor's jaw clenches. You sigh in aggravation and move to his side again, "Why don't you just refuse to go tomorrow? You are the king, you can stay if you wish."

"It'll raise morale if I go. I've been absent from the battlefield too long."

You look at him closely. "Do you think that, or does Odin?"

He didn't respond.

"Thor."

He glances at you, with troubled eyes.

"Are you nervous?" you ask him, surprised.

He nods silently. Your brows raise. Thor was like the sun; sure and steady. To see him falter in his own confidence was a rare occurrence. "Why?" He was many things, kind and sincere and strong, but also hardheaded. You knew he wouldn't put off a task without a definite reason.

"I don't want to leave him," he said quietly, eyes on his sleeping son. With a large hand he reached down and carefully stroked Magni's cheek. "I worry about his well-being while I'm gone."

Sudden affection filled your chest. His devotion to your child only strengthened the bond between you. "And you don't worry about mine?" you tease.

Thor chuckles. "I think we both know you're more than capable of looking after yourself." You smiled.

"Do you think he'll forget me?"

"What?" Incredulity coloured your tone. You laugh softly, "No, never." Stepping closer to him, you loop your arms around his frame. He sighs. "You'll be back in a few weeks, victorious as always, and all these doubts will be long gone." You smile up at him proudly. "After all, when was the last time you lost a battle?"

"I suppose," he said begrudgingly, the edges of his mouth curving up. He shakes his head. "You're right, of course." Thor bent his head and kissed your temple. "My wise queen. Don't let father bully you while I'm gone."

You scoff. "When do I ever?"

Thor smiled at last. "Indeed." The two of you fall silent, wrapped in your own little world. Whatever the following days would bring, you were certain you'd weather them together.