You awaken with a start, immediately grasping for your slightly protruding belly, unsure where you are for a moment.
"Gersemi!" Loki's familiar, albeit panicked, voice jolts you into complete consciousness.
"My Prince, with all due respect, I must demand you give my patient some space." A dark-haired woman strides to your side, immediately beginning to examine and manipulate the wisps of light floating above the soul forge you lie upon. "If you do not wish to have him here, just say the word. If you are too fearful of him to outright say that you do not wish to have him here, simply think of the word 'serpent,' holding it in your mind for several seconds." She taps her temple. "I have programmed the soul forge to send me a specific reading if you do so." She stares at you until you give her a nod of agreement, and then continues. "Your body temperature is far too low. Have you been trapped somewhere cold?"
"No- I actually feel really warm. Could I get a glass of water?"
"I'll get you some water, but it will be hot. We need to get your temperature raised."
She averts her gaze to Loki, just long enough to give him a pointed glare, before turning back to you. "My name is Eir, and I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure you and your baby are well." With one final glance at the wisps of light, she departs.
It isn't until she's left that you realize Loki is in chains. He stands only a couple paces away from you, his face contorted with worry- but the heavy metal cuffs around his wrists and connecting chains to his waist, being held tightly in the hands of two einherjar at his flanks, are the only details you can seem to focus on.
"They let you out." You rasp. Your voice is far more horse than you expected.
Gods, I could really use some water.
"I can be very persuasive." He croons, reaching out to you with cuffed hands, before the guards violently jerk him backward away from you.
"Do you believe me yet?" You attempt to sit up, to better look him in the face, but a horrific pain in your lower back stops you.
"Please! Gersemi- Just lie back and rest." He lurches forward in your direction again, the einherjar reacting immediately by pulling him back even more roughly this time. "I believe you, Gersemi- I'm sorry, it's just..." His face twists with torment. "I'm not what I seem. This form, I-" He attempts to place a hand on his chest as a gesture, but the chains and cuffs make the move impossible which only exacerbates his distressed state.
Sensing Loki's uneasiness, you put on your well-practiced, hopefully convincing, face of authority. "Guards, please give us some space. We have private matters to discuss." You bark the command as definitively as you can muster.
"Miss, he is a prisoner of Asgard, it is our duty to-"
"Leave my room- at once. You may stay just outside the door if need be. Eir has instructed me on how to give a signal if I am distressed."
The two guards look at each other for a moment, before giving you a wary nod and proceeding to wrap Loki's chains tightly around a pillar near the doorway to the room and securing them, then stepping out of sight.
"Speak." You command, feeling perhaps the most powerful you ever have before.
Loki looks to you, his expression one you have not seen before. He's pissed- there's no doubt about that. Yet, it is most certainly not you his aggression is aimed at. His ears are just barely the softest shade of pink you've ever seen, which is usually an indication that he's feeling just a little bit embarrassed- although you'd never confess to him that you knew that- but more than anything, he looks utterly distraught.
"Loki." You reach your hand out to his, which he immediately dives for, pulling his chains as far as they'll stretch just to be able to graze the tips of your fingers with his. "It's okay. Talk to me- please."
"I am a frost giant, Gersemi." His words cause an unfamiliar sort of vibration deep inside of you; however, you already know this. He'd told you that he was adopted when the two of you still hardly knew each other.
"I know." You reply before he has the chance to say anything more.
He shakes his head, hurrying to continue to his point. "This form that you've come to know me in, was a gift from Odin upon my adoption. It is not my true form." He hesitates. "Not... our baby's true form."
"Okay... so, you're actually big and cold and blue and it's likely that our baby will have some of those features, too- what is your point?" You're purposefully being nonchalant, in an attempt at making him feel more comfortable.
"There is no record of a person of another race successfully giving birth to a giant."
No.
No, no, no-
Your head begins to pound.
I'm going to lose my baby- he's telling me that I'm going to lose my baby.
A stabbing pain in your heart sets you on fire. Oh, Hnoss- I wasn't there for my own sister when she'd experienced one of the most horrific things a woman could possibly go through- and now I am destined to face the same fate. Alone, in secret, in pain- a pain like no one should ever have to endure.
"Why wouldn't you have been more careful if you'd known this could've happened!?" You're screaming. You're quite sure no other words had left your mouth before those, but you're shouting now- and no matter how unprompted it may seem, you have no intention of stopping.
"Because, Gersemi- there is no record of anyone other than another giant conceiving a frost giant's offspring." He grits his teeth, his ears turning an even darker shade of pink. In that moment, you finally realize that the combination of conflicting, unfamiliar emotions that have been dancing across Loki's face is guilt. This revelation has been riding hard on him, and he's clearly blamed himself for the situation you are in.
You feel your anger evaporate off of you like the dew on the grass of a hot summer's morning. "What are you saying?"
"It should not have been possible for you to get pregnant, Gersemi. Not with my child, but you are. Without a doubt in my mind." He reaches his hands out in your direction; gently, carefully- like he had the very first time you'd met.
Like you're still his frightened little deer.
"Why?" You try to make your question sound as cutting as possible, but damn do you need something to drink. "Why do you believe the child is yours, now?"
"I trust you, Gersemi. I have no idea why- it's not a feeling I am even the slightest bit familiar with."
He trusts me. The two of you certainly have a lot to work through, but his words assure you that you still have a chance- that you're going to be okay.
"What are we going to do?" You attempt to give him a reassuring smile, but the back of your eyes are burning, and you've just realized that letting your blinks linger shut for just a little bit longer feels so nice.
"Would you let me take you to Jotunheim?"
You're pretty sure those were the words you'd heard, but you're definitely asleep now, so you don't feel the slightest bit bad for nodding yes- in your dreams, of course.
——————————
"I will burn this entire ward to the ground if you so much as think about taking me away from her."
What in the nine is going on? I'm so hot- is the room on fire? I feel like I'm on fire.
"Lo-" oh gods- could someone please give me some water?
Loki's large hand rubs through your hair and down your back when he notices you stirring. You're pretty sure it was meant to be a soothing gesture, but it was heavy and undeliberate- not like you're used to being touched by him.
Something is definitely wrong.
You attempt to say something again, but your mouth has become so dry that you cannot speak. You also can't seem to open your eyes.
———————————-
You lurch awake, the strange rocking feeling in your dreams startling you conscious.
You're being carried; and by the wonderful scent of new leather, old parchment and spearmint- you know without a doubt that it's by Loki.
"What day is it? How long have I been gone?"
"Temper your worries, astín mín. It has barely been two hours since you found me in the dungeons."
"Where are you taking me?"
"To a healer."
"I was just with the healers, why did you take me away from Eir? Why did they let you take me?"
"Eir is the most gifted healer in the nine- when it comes to treating the Aesir or the Vanir; perhaps even the dwarves or elves, too- but not my kind. Not our baby." He adjusts his grip on your thigh. "And they didn't let me take you, they just couldn't stop me."
"I need some water." You've barely gotten the words out before Loki reaches over his head, handing you a leather flask. "Oh, thank the gods." You practically snatch it from him, yanking out the cork like a wild animal, and chug.
"You're welcome." He's carrying you like a sack of potatoes tossed over his shoulder, so you can't see his smirk, but you can certainly hear it. "Also got you this." He reaches back again to hand you something. "I hoped that you would wake to see them again, but I did not want to disturb you." He places one of the mystical purple flowers into your hand; your purple flowers, and you begin to cry. All of the emotions that have been building up over the past weeks finally pour out of you. "Gersemi- are you alright?" He pulls you forward as though you weigh absolutely nothing, shifting you in his arms so he can carry you cradled in front of himself.
"I've just really missed you."
He pulls you against himself so tightly you feel as though you may burst, his tenderness squeezing even more tears out of you.
"You were such a wonderful distraction from the pain of my family's betrayal; and when you, like everyone else in my life, abandoned me- I went mad without you."
The heavy wave of guilt brought about by his words feels as though it may rip apart your very soul, the back of your throat catching fire before you can speak. "Loki, I'm so sorry- for everything."
"As am I." Your face is buried in his chest, tucked firmly and safely under his chin, so you are unable to turn to see his expression, but his tone sends a shiver through you.
You spend the next half an hour or so in grueling silence, stopping yourself each time you are about to speak. You want to come up with something perfect to say, some magical words that will fix all of this, that can mend everything that's been broken, but the logical part of you knows that's impossible.
Too many romance novels. You sigh.
"Are you feeling alright?" Loki loosens his grip on you enough to allow you to look up at him.
"Better, actually." You were so wrapped up in your emotions, you'd actually failed to notice just how much better you are feeling. "Perhaps I just needed some fresh air."
"Perhaps." His tone is deliberately challenging.
"Okay... so you clearly disagree. What's your theory, Doctor Loki?" You purposely use the silly title that Midgardians use for their healers, in an attempt at being playful.
"Are you still holding it?"
"What?"
Before he needs to answer, you realize that you are still clutching onto the flower he'd given you. You'd thought it was a bit odd that he'd taken the time to make a pit stop for something sentimental, until you open your hand and find the poor, lifeless flower, withered and no longer glowing. You'd only seen that happen once before-
Hnoss.
When you'd accidentally dropped one of the flowers onto her- right before her critical situation suddenly remedied itself, baffling all of the healers.
Loki didn't take you to the field of flowers out of sentimentality. He took you there for a purpose. To test a theory, and based on the way you're feeling right now- he was right.
"DAMMIT ALL!"
Your outburst causes Loki to jerk in surprise, something you'd never seen him do before. "What? Gods! Are you alright?" He stops walking to examine you.
"I'm an imbecile! Why didn't I put that together? How did you think of that?" You attempt to fling your hands up into the air dramatically, but his firm hold on you prevents much movement at all from happening.
"The nine realms think what has happened to you to be impossible." He squeezes you tighter against him. "Well, our impossible child was conceived in that field of flowers- and I don't think that's just a coincidence."