Chapter Text
Loki, King of Asgard, had always refrained from marriage in case he needed to make a political alliance. As the years drew on his unmarried state did not bother him. He took his pleasure from the courtiers, diplomats, and servants who caught his fancy. A favorite bedfellow was his bodyguard, Thor, a fine specimen of an Asgardian who considered his duty to protect the king sacrosanct and approached his time in Loki’s bed with equal reverence.
In time - and after hearing some grumbling regarding succession - King Loki decided that his throne would be more secure and his reign more stable if he had an heir. He still had no desire to marry, so the simplest course was to ready his body to bear the child and find a willing man who would not demand anything in return for his biological contribution. Such an arrangement was not common but certainly not unheard of in Asgard and as a very skilled magician, the king was more than capable of enacting the needed changes to his anatomy. Thor was a logical choice as the child’s father and was more than happy to fulfill his duty to the kingdom and the king.
Month 1: Morning Sickness
Loki spat into the toilet one last time and sat back, wiping his hand over his mouth. He looked up to see Thor standing just inside the door. “You know you could guard the door from the outside,” Loki sighed.
“Wanted to be sure you were alright, my king,” Thor replied stoutly. “And you’re hardly the first man I’ve seen lose his stomach. May I help you up?”
On Loki’s nod, Thor stepped forward and gripped the king’s outstretched arm, wrapping his other arm around Loki’s back to lift him to his feet. Thor kept one arm around Loki’s waist, supporting him as he took a few steps to a bench against a wall. Once Loki was safely seated, Thor fetched him a glass of water.
Loki sipped the water slowly, one hand resting on his abdomen. After a minute he put the cup down and sat up straighter.
“How are you feeling, my king?” Thor asked.
“Better. Just a little lightheaded.”
“Should you lie down for a bit?”
Loki rolled his eyes. “I am fine, Thor. I can return to court. Just -“ Loki cut himself off, looking away.
Thor frowned. “What is it, my king?”
Loki shook his head. “Nothing, nothing.”
Loki started to stand but quickly sat heavily back down as his head swam.
“My king!” Thor cried, reaching for him.
“I’m fine,” Loki growled, batting away Thor’s hand. “Just a little lightheaded is all.”
“How may I serve, my king?” Thor asked quietly.
Loki shook his head and gave an aggrieved sigh. “Help me up. And give me your arm to lean on in case I feel faint again.”
Thor did as ordered without further comment.
As they proceeded to the throne room, Thor’s steady presence at his side felt … comforting to Loki. Strange.
Month 2: Tender Tummy
Loki accepted Thor’s hand for assistance as he stepped into the royal speeder. Thor followed him and signaled the pilot to go, then took the seat across from the king.
Loki let out a deep sigh and slouched in his seat. He undid the belt at his waist and gave a quiet groan of relief. The king closed his eyes, resting his hands on his abdomen.
“My king?” Thor peered at him in concern. “Are you well?”
“Yes, Thor.” A smirk played at the corner of his mouth. “I am quite well. The belt was just uncomfortable on my belly.”
Thor frowned. “You’re not showing yet, are you my king?”
“No,” Loki drawled, “my figure remains as lithe as ever.” He patted a spot just below his navel. “My belly has just become quite sensitive these past few days. I need looser and softer garments even though there is not yet any additional bulk to accommodate.”
Loki’s eyes remained closed as he gently massaged his belly with his fingertips. Unobserved, Thor let himself stare, wondering if there was any hope of the king letting him touch that belly. Thor glanced up at Loki’s face to make sure his eyes were still closed and felt his cheeks warm at the sight of a smile on the king’s face. Not the clever, sardonic smile that he wore so often: a true smile. The kind that lit his countenance from within. The kind that very few ever observed. Thor looked away. The smile was for Loki’s pregnant state, not for him.
Month 3: Assassination Attempt
Loki studied his reflection in the mirror. The buttons of his silk vest lay nicely down his chest to just above his navel. There the buttons became increasingly strained and there were large gaps between them over the curve of his gently rounded belly. Loki smiled and quickly unfastened the straining buttons, running his hand over the soft knit shirt that clung to his belly’s small swell.
There was a knock on the door behind him.
“Come,” Loki called, still admiring his reflection. In the mirror he saw Thor enter and stop short, his jaw going slack. Loki smirked. “Like what you see, Thor?” He turned towards his bodyguard, cupping the lower part of his belly and pulling the fabric taut over it, emphasizing the bump. “I’ve grown quickly, haven’t I? I’m not surprised, given that it’s your seed fertilizing me. You must have made your mother huge.” Loki’s smile was mischievous as he took a few steps closer. “Does it please you? Seeing my belly start to swell with your seed?”
“Your pregnancy pleases you, my king, and so it pleases me.”
“Not what I asked, Thor,” Loki teased.
“You are always beautiful, my king,” Thor murmured, eyes downcast.
Loki sniffed and turned away. “What do you want? Have you decided the guards at my door and under my windows and in the turret above are no longer adequate to protect me in my chamber?”
“No, my king. I have come to ask you to postpone your trip to Nidavellir.”
“I shall do no such thing,” Loki scoffed. “I’ve finally stopped vomiting every day, I feel well, and I look amazing. The time to visit my realms and show my people that the succession is secure is now.” He turned back to Thor, patting his rounded belly.
“Yes, my king, but our sources tell us that there are rumblings from the dwarf separatists. They’re gaining supporters and may have become bold enough to take action. I’m concerned that they would try to harm you while you’re out in the open away from Asgard.”
“You would have me hide behind these walls?” Loki asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I said nothing of hiding, my king. I ask only that you take greater care for your safety given your delicate condition.”
“I’m not that delicate, Thor,” Loki said, conjuring a knife from midair. “And anyway, I have you,” he finished lightly, dismissing the knife and turning away again. “I shall visit Nidavellir as scheduled. Tell my entourage to be ready. If you like, you may bring some extra guards with us.”
The dwarf leader was showing Loki a new bridge over a raging river when the king first felt a prickling at the back of his neck. His mouth began to feel dry and without realizing it he placed one hand protectively over his belly. The dwarf prattled on, but Loki hardly heard him. Something was wrong. He wasn’t safe. Loki turned to Thor, half a step behind him as always. The bodyguard’s face was like a thundercloud as he peered past Loki.
“Thor, I want-”
Thor grabbed Loki’s arm and yanked him backwards. Loki stumbled but kept his footing. “Thor!” he shouted angrily. But when he looked up, Thor was clutching an arrow in the exact place Loki’s eye had been a moment before. Loki gasped and then shrieked as another arrow flew out of the distance, slicing into his arm. A third arrow grazed Thor’s cheek and a fourth landed between Loki’s feet.
Loki heard a whirring sound and saw Thor’s hammer spinning in circles, too fast to see, creating a shield that more arrows pinged off of. Thor had Loki by the arm and was pulling him forward. “Get to cover!” Thor shouted.
Loki ran, clutching his injured arm, towards a clump of trees. Thor kept his body and the whirling hammer between Loki and the hail of arrows. A few steps before the trees, Loki tripped on a rock and fell. He somehow managed to twist his body so that he took the brunt of the force on his shoulder instead of his front, but he felt the impact throughout his body.
Thor dropped to his knees, shielding Loki with his body, more arrows pinging off his armor. “Heimdall!” he screamed, “Get the king out of here! Directly to the midwives!”
Before Loki could draw breath, he was in the Bifrost. He reached for Thor, but the bodyguard had leapt away and was sprinting towards their assailants. “Thor!” he cried out, but it was too late. He was flying through the river of light, his bodyguard left behind. He clutched at his belly. He had hit the ground hard. Was the baby alright? Loki saw droplets of blood trailing away from him, and was momentarily confused before he remembered the wound in his arm. His stomach gave a lurch and then he was stumbling to his knees on a hard stone floor. Loki was barely aware of the gasps and shouts of surprise around him. It was too much: the fear, the adrenaline, the pain, the blood. His stomach lurched again and he vomited.
Bless the midwives, their confusion and surprise didn’t last long. Before he was fully aware of what was going on, Loki was helped to a comfortable seat, his hair tied out of his sweaty face, and someone was rubbing his back in soothing circles. A cup of water was placed into his trembling hand.
“To rinse your mouth, Your Majesty,” a soft voice said. “Spit it out when you’re done if you don’t think your stomach can handle swallowing it.”
Loki took a small sip and swished it around his mouth, then tentatively swallowed. His stomach seemed to have calmed, but he was left panting for breath.
“The - the baby. I fell. Is the baby alright?” he gasped.
The head midwife crouched in front of him. “Do you have pain in your belly, Your Majesty?”
“No - I - I don’t know. I don’t think so,” he panted. “But I can’t breathe. Why can’t I breathe?”
“You’ve been injured, Your Majesty, and had quite a scare it seems, then you were pulled into the Bifrost without warning,” the midwife said, voice low and soothing. “Your body is trying to help you flee to protect your child, including making sure your lungs have extra air. But you are safe now, Your Majesty. You are back in Asgard, in your castle.” She met his eyes and held them, taking a deep breath in through her nose and out through her mouth. When Loki tried to copy her, his breath shuddered. “Your injuries appear to be minor, Your Majesty, but we need to get you to the soul forge so that we can ensure that all is well with your child and you were not hurt in your fall.”
On Loki’s nod, the midwives helped him to his feet and led him towards the soul forge. Loki leaned into their support. “Wh-where is Thor?”
The head midwife looked over her shoulder and made a small gesture to one of the attendants. “We will find out, Your Majesty.”
Gently they helped him to lay down on the device. Loki squeezed his eyes shut and tried to will his breathing to slow.
“There we are, Your Majesty.”
Loki opened his eyes to see the image of a fetus floating above him. The midwife enlarged it and they could see the little heart beating steadily, everything normal and intact.
“Oh,” Loki sighed and took a deep shuddering breath. “My baby.”
“You need to rest, Your Majesty,” the healer admonished as she finished bandaging the arrow wound on his arm. “Call for the midwives immediately if you feel any cramping or any pain-“
She was cut off as the door banged open and Thor strode in, his eyes wild. “My king?!”
Loki felt relief flood his chest. “Here, Thor. I’m alright.”
“The child?” Blue eyes shone with concern.
“Fine,” Loki said, patting his belly.
Thor knelt at Loki’s feet, grasping Loki’s hand and pressing his forehead to the fingers. “Thank the Norns!”
“Where were you?” Loki asked accusingly. “Why didn’t you return with me?”
“I was making sure those dwarves could never hurt you again, my king.” Thor grinned up at Loki, then reached back to get something tied to his belt. Thor turned back, holding up a severed head. The face was disfigured, clearly having received a blow from Thor’s hammer, the eyes rolled back in the head, and the neck ending in a sloppy, jagged cut.
Loki heard a rushing in his ears, his vision narrowed to the gruesome spectacle, and then all was black.
Loki woke surrounded by softness and blinked his eyes into focus. His bedroom, his bed. The head midwife was sitting in a chair beside him.
“I fainted?” Loki’s voice was thick with sleep.
“Yes, Your Majesty.” She got to her feet and felt the pulse in his wrist. “How are you feeling?”
Loki considered. “Tired,” he replied.
The midwife nodded. “The adrenaline has left your system. You need sleep. Are you hungry at all?”
Loki shook his head. “Where is Thor?” he asked a touch more tremulously than he liked.
“Just outside the door, trying to figure out if he could still adequately protect you if he cut off his own hands or put out his own eyes,” the midwife chuckled. “I will send him in, Your Majesty. Without a severed head this time.”
She left and Loki propped himself up on an elbow to drink some water from the glass at his bedside.
“My king?”
“Come, Thor.” Loki lay back against the pillows, scrutinizing his bodyguard as he moved to kneel beside the bed.
“My king,” Thor said, his voice choked with misery, “I will paint the walls of Asgard with my blood if it will help me atone for what I’ve done.”
“I’ve had quite enough of blood for one day, thank you.” Loki’s attempt at a breezy tone sounded feeble.
“My king, whatever punishment you see fit for me, I will willingly accept.”
Loki pushed himself upright. “Punishment? What exactly would I be punishing you for?”
“I - I caused you to faint, my king. I let you be hurt in Nidavellir.”
Loki sighed and shook his head. “Ridiculous man. Get off your knees, come up here.”
“My king?” Thor stood, looking confused.
Loki shifted over and patted the bed beside him. “Sit down, Thor.”
Thor perched on the edge of the bed, facing him, and Loki became aware of his scent. Leather and steel and utilitarian soap. The faintest whiff of something like electricity. Loki took a deep breath and felt himself relax. He leaned back against his pillows.
“I’ll grant you that the severed head was a bit much given the circumstances,” he held up a hand to forestall the apology that Thor was clearly about to pronounce, “but you must never apologize for meting out justice to my enemies, Thor. I am quite pleased that they are dead and that you returned with a trophy. Put it on a pike outside the castle.”
“Yes, my king,” Thor murmured.
“As far as getting hurt in Nidavellir, you kept me from getting anything worse than a scratch and even that would have been avoided had I listened to you and postponed the trip like you asked me. Punish you? No, I should be thanking you.”
Thor bowed his head. “There is no need to thank me, my king. Serving you, keeping you safe is my life’s purpose and also my great pleasure.”
Loki chuckled. “Oh dear Thor, we shall have to talk about how you’re getting pleasure later. For now I’m tired.”
“I’ll let you rest,” Thor said, quickly getting to his feet.
“No.” Loki’s hand reached out of its own accord before he stopped himself and cleared his throat. “Stay with me. Please. I feel safer when you’re close.”
“Of course, my king,” Thor replied, “I’ll be just by the door.”
“No, I- I mean here.” Loki patted the bed beside him.
“If that is what you wish, my king.”
“It is,” Loki said quietly.
Thor sat back down with his back against the headboard. “Here, my king?” he asked.
Loki lay down with his head on Thor’s lap. “Yes, here is good,” he sighed.
Within a few minutes the king was asleep.