UPDATED:

Because for some inexplicable reason, Kari was written as Kira in the initial posting of this chapter. Sorry guys. Still have a brain injury. Fixed.

For the next few weeks, Max had to adjust to having a constant shadow. For the most part, she was never alone anymore, and while Kari was a huge improvement from the two lugs who had followed her around the palace before, she still felt a disconnect there. As time passed with Loki constantly asking about how she was doing, how Kari was working out, what did you two do today, Max's suspicions that he had chosen the woman to be a substitute friend were proven true. So, for his sake, Max tried. She reeled in her frustrations about being stuck in Asgard. She made sure not to roll her eyes or huff whenever Kari was with her. She really tried.

The bridge just hadn't been connected yet between the two women. While Kari seemed pleasant enough—kind to the servants, firm with the guards, playful with the noble children—she was still just another attendant. Loki desperately wanted them to be friends, especially as his kingly duties started to consume about ninety percent of his day, and Max wouldn't have minded the companionship either. Unfortunately, whenever the two women were together, there was still a palpable distance between them, that of a servant and a master.

It was a position Max never in her life would have predicted she'd be in. Sure, she had had underlings before—generally at work, occasionally with grad students that she was put in charge of by a professor in college. Definitely with them as a professor. But when the day was done, everyone could leave the building and know Max was just another person. Here, there was no end to her elevated status. Both in and out of the palace walls, Max was someone. That didn't change—and she felt it in the way she and Kari interacted. Sometimes she could ignore it, but it took more effort than she was comfortable with.

Maybe that was because there was such an issue made about Max's status in the court. She had overheard a group of women giggling and chattering about the king's mistress one day, so embroiled in their gossip that they hadn't even noticed her and Kari walking by. While Max had felt heat rush to just about every inch of exposed skin, Kari shot the women the foulest glare Max had ever seen before dragging her out to build snowforts with the usual gang of palace children. At the time, Max had appreciated Kari's effort to shield her from gossip, but she knew for a fact that didn't mean it wouldn't continue.

After all, she had read enough history texts and watched enough trashy historical dramas to know gossip was as natural as breathing to a royal court. Everyone wanted a place, a role of importance, and the closer one was to the king, the better their standing in life. Max had watched Loki's court, like a living thing, change and grow as time went on, steadily filling with vipers and harpies from different provinces in the countryside—and a few genuinely good souls. Odin's court was established—longstanding. Now there was a new opportunity for various noble elites to find a better position with Asgard's royalty.

And then there was Max, a woman Loki kept by his side at all public functions. She refused to play the courtiers game, preferring Kari's company—even with all their issues—over nobles dripping with gold and jewels. Loki usually tried his best to focus on her at those sorts of things, but she assured him over and over again that she understood why he needed to schmooze. He was building his court, finding his loyal following. Logically, she could understand that.

But it didn't make her feel any less lonely. Even in a hall of a hundred people, Max could somehow find herself utterly alone.

The pestering of noble women had been especially bad at dinner feasts lately. Well into the fourth, closing in on the fifth, month of her pregnancy, no amount of carefully constructed gowns or thick winter fabrics could hide that she and Loki were expecting. Husbands must have instructed their wives to get in good with Max, knowing she carried the king's heir. She couldn't stand it.

Once, during the drunken height of a feast, Max had heard the word bastard thrown around. The thought of people plotting about her unborn child, trying to label him or her already—it had broken her that night. She flew out of the hall as fast as her swollen ankles could carry her, finding a dark, less traveled corridor to cry in. Kari had found her eventually, and the two sat there on the floor for some time while Max exhausted herself and Kari picked uncomfortably at her formal dinner gown—which the woman hated wearing, as much as she tried to hide it.

When the tears stopped, Max had returned to the feast as though nothing had happened. She didn't want to trouble Loki with it, as she knew he'd make a scene. The more pregnant she got, the more protective he had become of her. But she didn't want either of them to worry about what the court thought of her pregnancy. All that could be decided later. Max just wanted a smooth pregnancy and a relatively easy birth—and a healthy baby. That's it. The rest was just background noise, even if it did manage on occasion to pierce her steadily thickening skin.

After lunch that day, she and Kari had locked themselves away in the corner of Asgard's great library for a bit of afternoon reading. While the weathered librarians threw a fit when just about anyone else tried to do the same, Max's status gave her and Kari a fortunate in.

As it stood, Max had never read this much in her whole life, college years included, but she enjoyed reading about Asgardian history. Kari had even translated a few of the ancient children's texts from old Asgardian to English, which they read today. Quite violent, for children's stories—reminiscent of the Brothers Grimm.

While reading wasn't her ideal way to spend an afternoon, Max needed some time off her feet. After breakfast that morning, she and Kari had rounded up their usual herd of noble kids, stuck in the palace while their parents worked their way toward Loki's inner circle, and headed for the slopes. There were beautiful snowy hillsides near the palace, perfect for sledding. Max had been too wary about climbing onboard one herself, which left Kari responsible for all the kids—most of whom liked piling onto the woman's lap for their runs down the hill. Max stood at the top, laughing, and helped the littler ones get situated on sleds before pushing them down.

By the time lunch hit, she was exhausted. Kari suggested a nap, but Max knew she could bounce back, hence their trip to the library. But the dusty tomes and warm, cozy atmosphere worked against her, and eventually she asked if Kari could take her back to her room.

"My lady—"

"Max," she said with a slight groan. How many times would they have to have this exchange? A sidelong glance at Kari showed the woman pressing her lips together firmly, realizing her mistake. They were halfway back to Max's room, taking the quieter halls over a more direct route through the public corridors.

"Max," Kari repeated, still sounding a bit uncomfortable with it. "Can I ask you a question?"

Max nodded. "Shoot." When the woman didn't respond right away, Max quickly clarified. "Yeah, sure. Go for it."

"Did…" She heard Kari draw in a soft breath, their footfalls in perfect unison. "Did something happen to you in the armory?"

Max shot her a quick look. "What?"

"Well, it's just…" The woman shook her head, a tendril of wavy blonde falling loose from the bun sitting atop it. "You always have this forlorn look on your face when we go by the door. Just now, I saw it as we passed."

Max gave a little laugh, not even realizing that she'd been making a face. "Really?"

"Yes," Kari insisted, her tone lightening up a little, like she was pleased that Max hadn't turned around and scolded her. "Every time. I've always wondered, but I thought it might be rude to ask."

"It isn't." Max glanced over her shoulder at the double-doors to the armory. "Well, maybe the way you phrased it could have been better—"

"My apologies, my lady." Kari drew in a sharp breath. "Max."

She waved it off, suddenly finding herself smiling. "It's fine. But no… I used to study weapons on Earth. I kind of geared my degree around it. I did a whole internship thing in England where it was just weapons, day in and day out, at the museum. I love them." She slowed her steps, frowning. "Loki promised to teach me, and he brought me in there once, but that kind of fell to the wayside."

"I could show them to you… Teach you all the different kinds," Kari offered, the hesitancy back in her voice, but she found her confidence when Max's face lit up. "Yes, I could, if you'd like?"

"I'd love that," Max told her as she grabbed her wrist and all but dragged her back to the armory.

"My… Max, wouldn't you prefer to sleep?" Kari laughed unsurely as Max yanked open the doors and hurried in. "You were falling asleep in the library. Rest is good for both mother and baby."

"We'll be fine," Max said, but then sighed noisily when Kari raised her eyebrows at her. "Fine. After I'll take a nap. First, show me everything."

She hadn't even considered that Kari's shieldmaiden background, which she had unfairly asked the woman very little about, would actually bring them together. They started first with the bows—Kari's specialty, apparently—and the blonde explained with more exuberance than Max had ever seen each one in minute detail. She explained the different curves of the bows and the tautness of the string. No marking went unnoticed. Kari moved on to arrows next, where she laid out each kind on a table, some with smooth edges and sharp points, others with jagged sides and pinpoint heads.

"Harder to remove," Kari noted, to which Max nodded, fascinated. She enjoyed the teachings on the markings the most; many warriors believed specific runes brought forth a particular kind of magic in battle. Kari's personal bow, she explained, harkened to the wind elements, so that her arrows would slice far and true.

Loki had touched on many of the weapons before, but there was a sparkle in Kari's eye that Max felt in her soul as they moved from piece to piece. Suddenly her weariness was gone, replaced with keen focus and concentration, so much so that neither noticed as the shadows grew longer across the sprawling room, the sun shifting across the windows on its descent into the horizon.

"What about these?" Max asked, gesturing up to the swords hanging on the wall. They practically quivered when both women honed in on them. Kari pulled two down, then handed one to Max.

"These are used in battle," Kari told her. "I understand something similar was used once on Earth."

Max nodded. Although she had never expressly said it, Kari seemed to know Max's background, including the fact that she was only recently made into an Asgardian.

"It's similar to a Viking-style sword… Carolingian, if I remember the term correctly." She gripped the hilt, with was thinner than she expected—though it was the wide breadth at the base and top of the hilt, maybe to protect the user's hand, that might be responsible for the miscalculation. When she had come with Loki, every weapon dragged down to the floor, her muscles straining to lift it. While Max felt the weight of the sword as she held her arm outright, the limb trembling only slightly, it was much easier to wield. "The style was common in Northern Europe up until the eleventh century or so…"

Strange that she remembered so much. Artillery and automatic weaponry had been her study of choice at this point in her career. This was college era stuff, but she loved it all the same.

Biting down on her lower lip, Max took two swipes across the air, gasping when Kari jumped out of the way to avoid being hit.

"I'm so sorry," she said hastily, dropping the sword's tip to the ground. "I should have been more careful."

"You'll have to do much worse to worry me," Kari insisted with a chuckle. "It wouldn't be the first time I've been hit, and I'm sure it won't be the last."

"Still…" Max didn't want to take a chunk out of the only person she considered a halfway decent friend here. "I'll pay more attention."

"You've never swung a sword before, have you?"

"Am I that sloppy?"

Kari's cheeks pinkened somewhat as she bit her lip, mouth curving up into a telling smile that made both women laugh.

"It's your stance," Kari told her, setting the sword she'd been holding down on a nearby table and coming toward her. "You'll hurt your back if you try to fight like that."

"More than the baby hurts my back?" She grinned, a hand falling to the bump protruding from her belly. In the grand scheme of things, it wasn't huge by any means, but Max had never grown a person before—it already felt huge.

"It'll only get worse," Kari said with a wink. "Now, shift your feet a little… One back slightly, one forward. Takes the pressure off."

Max did as instructed, feeling slightly off-balance for a moment but quickly finding that her lower back felt better as she raised the sword again.

"Can you teach me to fight?" she asked as Kari continued to manipulate her body so it was in the proper stance. The slight crinkle in the woman's brow told Max she wasn't sure. "I mean, it'll be more fun than reading. Not that I don't like your story translations, it's just…" Max trailed off when Kari rounded about in front of her, arms crossed. "Learning to fight seems more fun."

The blonde was silent for a moment, sparing a look to the door before letting herself smile.

"I agree." For once, they felt utterly on the same page, until Kari pointed down at the sword in Max's hands. "But I'm not teaching you anything with that."

"Fair enough," Max muttered, handing the sword back. In its place Kari shoved a wooden one. While it felt about thirty pounds lighter, the handle was fatter and more awkward. "Shouldn't I use something close to the real thing?"

"After the baby comes," Kari told her, tapping the sword with a wooden one of her own. "There's no way I'd let you use a real sword now."

She placed a hand on her bump again. "Right. I actually forgot for a second."

"Soon it will be difficult to think of anything but," Kari insisted as she walked Max over to a smaller area that was free of tables covered with weaponry. "My mother used to say that, anyway."

"Well, I'm sure she knew what she was talking about." Max studied her companion for a moment, both hands gripping her wooden training sword at opposite ends. "Why don't you tell me about her?"

Kari straightened with a frown. "About my mother?"

With a shrug, Max tried to get herself into the stance Kari had shown her moments earlier. "Yeah, sure. I'd love to know more about you." When Kari gave no immediate response, Max stood up again, a hand on her bump. "Kari, I think we should be friends. I know you have a job to do and I respect that, and I will absolutely listen to you if the situation dictates that you take the lead, but in the meantime… I'd just like to be friends."

The notion made her a little more teary-eyed than Max anticipated, and she looked away, sniffling and blinking hard.

"I'd like that too, Max," came Kari's soft response. The woman grinned when their eyes met, and Max flinched back when she raised the sword suddenly between them. "But if you think for one second I go any easier on my friends, you're sadly mistaken."

Max wobbled down into the appropriate stance, smirking. "Good. I wouldn't have it any other way…"

"Are we there yet?"

Loki chuckled in her ear as he walked her over decidedly uneven terrain, and Max's lips twisted into a somewhat annoyed half-smile. She had been wearing this blindfold since Loki swept her out of their bedroom and took her outside to an awaiting hovercraft, and, honestly, riding anywhere in those things was disorientating enough. But wearing a blindfold for so long with zero idea where she was going? She was surprised she could walk straight, in the midst of her first bout of nauseous dizziness since she had started taking Eir's potion.

Still, she couldn't be too annoyed. After all, Loki was taking her out of the palace—away from the dull roar of feasts surrounded by noblemen, and out of their dark, lonely bedroom. Besides the howling wind, her new surroundings sounded quiet—peaceful. They were outside, the wintry air fighting hard to get under her many layers. Outdoor Asgard in the dead of winter wasn't the ideal place to be, but Loki had loaded her up with so many furs and cloaks and blankets that she only barely felt it so long as she was covered.

After sparring with Kari in the armory, the woman had put Max straight to bed, putting her foot down when Max got a little too excitable with learning how to use a sword properly. She had been so caught up in the heat of the moment—Kari too—that she'd ended up losing her balance and toppling over. Everything was fine, of course. She'd landed on her butt. No harm to the bump. But Kari refused to do anything further for the day, insisting she get her rest.

So she had. Max slept from the late afternoon well into the evening, when she was awoken by a soft-spoken Loki, his words whispery and his caresses gentle. He had a surprise for her, apparently, and insisted she dress immediately. Off-balance, hungry, and kind of sore from swordplay, Max did as she was told in a stupor—one that vanished immediately as soon as the chilly air outside filled her lungs.

From there, it was a blindfolded ride out to… well, somewhere. With no guards—that she knew of, anyway—she couldn't imagine where he would take her.

"Careful," he murmured when she slipped. He kept her from falling, of course, walking directly behind her, his chest to her back and his hands gripping her forearms. "Almost there."

The ground seemed to change from snow and ice to rock in a matter of seconds, and Max paused for a moment, tapping around. The more they crossed the rocky surface, smooth and fairly even, the warmer it became, until finally she was sweating under all her layers.

"Right. Stop here," Loki instructed, and she did with minimal wobbling. At this point, she was hot, still tired, hungry as sin—and now dizzy. But she ignored all that, knowing he was doing something just for her. Max bit her lip, waiting in silence as his elegant fingers unknotted the silken tie across her eyes. When it fell away, she blinked hard, eyes quickly adjusting to the soft lighting.

They were back at the pools—the heated pools where he had taken her, oh, it felt like years ago. They'd come alone back then and ended up talking about what they planned to do with their relationship once Max returned to Earth. How little they knew then that the argument that ensued had been for nothing.

"What…?" As her eyes wandered the glittering cavern, peeling off the furs and pelts as she went, Max spied a table and a pair of chairs near one of the pools—and her heart skipped a beat at the sight of candles and what appeared to be dinner waiting for them. "Oh. Loki…"

"I know this transition has been difficult for you," he said as he took her hand, their fingers threading together, and walked her over to what was now a very obvious date-night set-up. "I've been gone more than I'd like, and while I hope Kari is proving to be good companionship, that doesn't excuse my absence."

She squeezed his hand, unable to stop smiling. He'd even set a purple tablecloth over the small round table. White and green candles burned on the one side, providing more light than she would have thought. There was a plate for each of them, with a bowl on top and cutlery on either side. Salad in the middle. Baskets of bread and little cups of flavoured butter spreads within reach. It was only then that she smelled the meats over the distinctive heated pool scent, though she couldn't see where they were being cooked. While there were no guards to be seen, Max quickly deduced that they probably weren't alone.

"This is…" She licked her lips, eyes immediately watering. Her head bobbed up and down quickly before looking at him. "This is amazing. Thank you."

"I'm sure you enjoy sitting with all those nobles about as much as I do," he told her, pulling out her chair and helping her settle in. "I thought we could do with a night away."

"A night alone?" she asked, an eyebrow arched when he grinned.

"Utterly."

"So who's cooking?"

"I have a fire going out of sight," Loki said, then leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead. She closed her eyes at the touch. This time when he pulled away, the distance didn't seem so vast. Suddenly it was closing again, just with this one gesture. Whether he noticed or not, Loki appeared in good spirits—better than she'd seen in a long time as he made himself comfortable in the seat beside hers. "I can't show you all my tricks, my sweet."

"I guess I'll just have to accept not knowing for now," she agreed, grabbing a small, warm loaf of bread and ripping it in half. "Are you sure no one helped you? This is… incredible."

"Max, you wound me." He pressed a hand to his chest as she giggled, then buttered a knife for her and smeared it over her bread. A garlic aroma wafted toward her that made her mouth water. As she took a bite, however, he admitted somewhat sheepishly, "But, yes, Kari assisted me while you slept. She did the table setting. A few other servants brought the breads and vegetables. I've been roasting the main course since this morning."

She swallowed a mouthful a little too large, wincing as the chunk of bread worked its way down her throat—but still she smiled.

"I'm so excited," Max gushed, which brought a welcome burst of colour to Loki's cheeks as he loaded up her bowl with what appeared to be her favourite salad made by the kitchens. A mix of earthy dark greens, paired with flavourful root vegetables and possibly Asgardian goat cheese, then a dash of dressing that was reminiscent of Greek, but with more of a vinegar-y bite. Delicious. All her favourites, if the meat cooking behind the scenes was what she thought it was based on smell alone.

"Good." Loki brushed his knuckles along her cheek, then dusted the bits of buttered bread crumbs away from her mouth with a grin. "I'm glad to see you so… happy. I know this has been trying—"

"And I'm sure you feel guilty about it," she insisted, grabbing his hand before he could pull it away and kissing it. Her lips left a buttery smear on his skin, which they both ignored. "Look, you know how I feel. I still want to go home. I want to see my family. I… I've been gone a long time." Loki's gaze dropped to the table, seeming to bite the insides of his cheeks. "But I know things have kind of been stacked against us. You didn't ask to be king. Shit hit the fan and you stepped up." Or so she hoped. "I don't know much about the political situation, but I think you've been doing a good job."

"Max—"

"I just want to say that I get it," she pressed. It wasn't fair that he carried around the weight of all her occasionally intense feelings too. Not all the time, anyway. "You're a king. You're ruling nine realms suddenly, which is mindboggling to me. Frankly, I'd be concerned if we just hung out all day like we used to. So, I get it. It kind of sucks sometimes, but I don't blame you."

Not entirely. Some of the blame fell to Loki with how her stay here was handled, right down to her transformation from human to Asgardian. But that didn't need to be brought up now. She didn't want to rehash old arguments or create frustrating new ones. Loki had gone out of his way to create their first solo Asgardian date night in… Well, she couldn't remember the last time they hadn't sat in a feasting hall or alone in their bedroom to eat, so this was a marked improvement on all fronts.

"Max…" His features darkened for a moment, and she stopped mid-chew, frowning as he shook his head. "You give me more patience than I deserve." When he lifted his gaze to her again, the darkness seemed to have passed. "I have so much to tell you… So much I want to tell you, but the time isn't right. Not yet. Can I ask for your patience just a little longer?"

She swallowed this mouthful with some difficulty. While his words brought about a cold, heavy weight in her gut, all she could do in the moment was nod. She'd waited this long for whatever he had been doing these days without her knowledge. She could wait a little while longer. Once the baby was born, all the secrets had to be out in the open—period.

Loki leaned over and stole a quick kiss, holding her there as he murmured, "You know that I very much love you."

She nodded again, smirking. "Yeah, I know."

They both settled back in their chairs wearing identical smiles, with Loki divvying up the rest of the appetizers in a contented silence.

"So go on then," she said after a few bites. As she predicted, it was her favourite salad, the kind she ate three or four bowls of whenever it was served. Apparently he had been paying attention. Loki looked up with a quirked eyebrow. "I'm sure you listen to so much bullshit all day long from everybody. Tell me about some of it."

"Are you sure?" He scooped a particularly large chunk of cheese onto his fork, but didn't eat it, instead letting it hover there between bowl and mouth. "It's really very dry. A lot of land squabbles and this person took my space in the trading arena and that person is ignoring the will set by this person…"

Max was sure there was more than that. Those sorts of issues sounded petty, the kind that were brought before a king by the working class. Max wanted gossip on the elites. She wanted to be able to look around the hall at the smug faces of the same people who whispered about her being a mistress and carrying the king's bastard and just know something—something good.

"Well, I was thinking stuff a little higher up the scale," she prodded, their lugs bumping together under the table as she shifted. "You know, maybe more like…" She drew in a soft, sharp breath, hand going to her bump at that feeling. Fluttering. Like someone was playing an instrument on the underside of her skin.

"Max?" All the playfulness was gone from his voice, replaced with a familiar tone of concern that always made her feel more stressed, not less. "What's wrong? Is it the baby?"

She raised a hand to silence his incessant questions, using the moment instead to just listen to her body. Like the beat of butterfly wings, something trembled within her. Eir said she might feel it sometime soon.

"The baby's moving," she whispered, then looked up to him with watery eyes. "I-I… At least, I think it's moving." She pressed harder and the sensations became more prominent, catching her so off-guard that she let out a shocked laugh. "Oh!"

Loki sat hovering over the edge of his chair, clearly torn between trying to help her and wanting to leave her be. In an effort to put him out of his agony, Max made the decision for him; she grabbed his hand and yanked it over, placing it palm-side down over her bump.

"Do you feel it?" she asked, voice quivering with giddiness. "Right there…" Loki's eyes widened, and soon enough he was kneeling beside her, both hands on her swollen midsection. "And there it is again! Oh my god… Oh my god. I've never felt it before."

He knelt there for some time in an almost reverent silence, his smile growing and twitching with each minor movement.

"Well, come on," she urged, poking at his shoulder as she blinked back her tears. "Say something."

"It's… It's…" He shook his head, throat bobbing up and down noticeably as he fumbled for words. "It's wonderful, Max. Truly, it's… just wonderful."

"Yeah, it really is."

This time it was her who pulled him in for a kiss, hands grasping and cupping one another's faces. When she finally let him go, Loki sat back on his heels and wiped quickly at his eyes. She rarely saw the sort of smile he wore in that moment, the kind without any real agenda behind it. A real smile. Pure and sweet.

"Well, that's…" He stood, hands trembling as he fiddled with the king's ring, fat and obtrusive, on his middle finger. "That's…"

"Wonderful?" She laughed as her hand went back to the bump. The fluttering had stopped for now, which was fine because it kind of made her feel like she had to pee.

"Yes." Loki retrieved a wine bottle from under the table, popping the cork out with a mere flick of his fingers and filling the two empty goblets. "Wonderful indeed. Worth a celebration far grander than this."

"This is more than perfect," she told him, watching as he downed the entire goblet in one go. Some red wine dribbled down to his chin, but he brushed it away, still shaking a little. He seemed to notice her watching and quickly shook his head.

"Right. I'm sorry. Here." He refilled his goblet, then clinked it against hers. "To our family."

"I'll drink to that." Max lifted the iron chalice and cocked her head to the side, grinning. "But you wanna do a reverse water-into-wine kind of thing?" Her grin grew as he stared back at her, clearly puzzled. "Or did you blank out just now and forget I'm pregnant?"

His frown deepened. "What?" And then realization clicked in. "Oh. Oh! Right. What a fool I am."

She leaned back in her chair as he made the appropriate changes, the red liquid turning clear and odorless as he pressed a finger to the rim of the chalice.

"I'm sure all first-time dads are," Max teased, the cold dead weight in her core feeling light and airy now—happy. "It's probably all downhill from here…"

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

Ugh you guyyyysss how sickly gross and CUTE. First-time Dad!Loki gives me all the feels, as I'm sure they do for you as well. I've had some awesome improvements with my head lately, which I hope means more updates, but currently I'm kind of shutting down. I spent all this past week working on a novella I hope to publish in March, and it's been kind of an intensive writing week. So. Glad I got this finished. Feeling bad for Max, as always, for being kept in the dark. We also haven't had a Loki POV in a while—on purpose. We'll reconnect soon though.

K I GOTTA GO CRASH. BYE, CUTIES. Maaaaaaaaaaaaaybe there will be another update before the end of the year, maybe not. If I don't see you (because you know I love updating on the 24th every year, but that probs won't happen), have a wonderful holiday season!