The Fallen Prince - Loki fanfiction ✓

17. Baser instincts

The sun peaked in through the curtains, a streak of light falling across Mirilya's sleeping face. Loki loved waking up next to her, she was his little haven of peace and quiet. All day long there were people wanting something from him and he had to play the role of king, but with Mirilya there were no such things. It was just him and her, enjoying each other and their time together. She even got him to talk about his recent discoveries about his lineage. She was surprisingly relaxed about it and with his permission she had picked up books about Jotunheim from the library. Mirilya was particularly fascinated by the Jotun's ability to manipulate ice, marvelling at the pictures of Frost Giants with various types of icy weapons attached to their arms. Loki grimaced when he thought about the cut at his back, caused by such a weapon. Mirilya had not realised his wound was caused by an ice sword and thinking back to the look on her face when he had told her, made him smile. She had felt bad for admiring the Jotun weapon that had hurt him. But he made her laugh again when he told her he actually had some fond memories about that day, as it was the first time he kissed her. The cut was long healed, only a thin silvery line visible across his back, but his girl was still here. And he meant to keep her with him, for a long, long time.

Loki slipped out of bed to get them breakfast. When he returned with the tray, Mirilya had just woken up. She pushed herself upright in the cushions and smiled warmly at him.

"Good morning, my love. Want some breakfast?" Loki put down the tray on the table and walked to the bed to kiss Mirilya.

"Just some toast," she said after she pulled back from their kiss, threw back the covers and slid out of bed.

"Again? You've been eating toast for breakfast all week. Don't you get tired of it?" Loki poured some tea for them and held a cup out to Mirilya, who eyed it a bit wary. "It's just green tea with some lemon, don't worry."

She took the cup from him and blew the steam from it. "I'm just feeling a bit queasy. My stomach has been acting up all week."

Loki hunched down next to her chair and took her hand. "Why didn't you tell me you're not feeling well?"

"I didn't want you to worry. Besides, I always felt fine a couple of hours later," she said with a small smile. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

Loki could hardly breathe when he stared at Mirilya's face. Could it be? Was she...? In a surprisingly short time she had found a way to his heart and made herself a permanent home there, but this was something else entirely.

"Loki? Love? You're scaring me, what's wrong?" Mirilya had put her tea down and now grabbed his hand with both of hers.

He shook his head to dispel the shock from his face. "Nothing's wrong, my love. A surprise, yes, but far from wrong."

"I'm not following you." She was looking confused.

Loki got up from the floor and pulled up a chair next to her, taking her hands again as soon as he sat down.
"Just think, my love. Have you been feeling different lately?"

She arched her eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

Loki chuckled. The more he thought about it, the more he was sure his suspicions were true.
"You've been feeling sick in the mornings, you get nauseous from the smell of cinnamon and this week I've heard you complain more than once about your breasts being tender." He let her process this and slowly slid his hand across her lap to her stomach.

After a second Mirilya gasped and grabbed his hand on her stomach, her eyes wide. "You don't think...?"

"The signs are there," Loki answered with a smile. "But we'll have to visit the healer to be sure."

"But... but..." Mirilya looked seriously confused and flustered, yet her eyes sparkled. Loki slid to the edge of his chair and softly kissed her lips. She leaned her forehead against his. "You're not mad?" Her golden eyes gazed into his.