Loki gulped down the contents of his goblet and looked out on the feasting hall at all the various courtiers, warriors, and royal advisors. His life had taken a considerable turn in recent months. Before Aralia he had been the forgotten prince. The smaller younger brother of Thor that practiced magic and enjoyed playing tricks on people, the adopted Joten monster, people looked on him scornfully. They still do, but now there is jealousy in their looks as well. Lately people had been looking at Loki differently, like he was the luckiest son of a bitch in all the nine realms. And he is the luckiest son of bitch in all the nine realms. He has Aralia.

He turns to look at his Omega seated beside him at the high table. She is round with child, or children, as she is carrying twins. She could go into labor at any moment. These past few months, Loki has barely left her side for anything. She is a beautiful stunning creature, and it is not just her looks and fertility that make others jealous of Loki. It is Aralia herself, her personality, her love, her blatant attraction to Loki that people covet. She always looks at Loki like he is a piece of meat. Loki and Aralia are often caught in the hallways and corridors by servants and nobles alike kissing passionately. People overhear them whispering loving and seductive words to each other. Never have the people of Asgard seen an Omega so loving towards her Alpha.

She should be loving, some people say. She did choose her Alpha after all. A point of contention that many Alphas in Asgard hold against Prince Loki. Omegas don't get to choose their Alphas, but Aralia did. She chose Loki over Thor. The people of Asgard are still trying to get over that fact. Usually Omegas act affectionate in public only when their Alpha expects it of them, and then there is a forced nature about it, not believable to onlookers. Of all the bonded Alphas in Asgard only Loki has a love born of passion that his Omega feels for him. For this love, Loki has been rewarded with a very fertile woman.

Loki smiles. He's been doing that a lot lately. If not for his worries about the upcoming birth, Loki would have that smile plastered on his face 24/7. Her belly is large, and though everyone knows she is carrying twins, some including Loki can't help but wonder if his Frost Giant heritage has affected the size of the infants growing in her womb. She has handled the pregnancy gracefully. If she is uncomfortable or suffering, no one can tell. She is always smiling, always glowing, and blissful in her omega ability to become so readily pregnant.

Aralia looks at Loki and returns his smile. Her life has changed so drastically in the past year. She was a tavern wench, and now she is called princess. Her daring stunt and strong instincts had paid off. Aralia learned something about herself after becoming pregnant. Her belief, her insistence that she was going to become an omega and go into heat had been right. She couldn't put a name to it before but she can now. The desire to have children is very strong in her. Sure she wanted children just like any other woman. It is only natural. However, it has become clear to Aralia that being pregnant is like a drug to her. She loves it, in spite of all the discomfort. She prefers being pregnant than not. Truly, she was born to be an omega. She is due to give birth any day now and already she is hoping and anticipating her next heat. But even the most fertile omegas only go into heat about once every 100 years or so. That is going to be a long time for her to wait. Given that the Aesir are long lived people with life spans of about 5,000 years, getting pregnant every 100 years is a lot of children for her to bare over the course of her life. Still, she wishes her next heat would come sooner.

Aralia shifts in her chair. The babies have been active today. One of them really likes to lodge his or her foot into her rib cage. Aralia feels jittery. She has felt jittery all day today, and she's not sure why. She must just be nervous, she tells herself. Suddenly, Aralia feels a stabbing cramping sensation. "Ahhh!" She cries out. Loki jumps in his seat. "Are you alright my darling?" He looks her up and down and notices the fluid leaking from her seat on the floor. "It's time! It is time! Gather the healers!" Loki shouts to everyone and no one. The hall erupts in cheers as Loki escorts Aralia out and towards the birthing room. Frigga, Odin, and Thor follow close behind them.

Aralia is positioned on the birthing table as healers swarm around her. "Prince Loki, it is now time for you to take your leave." Says Lady Eir. "I will do no such thing. She needs me to comfort her during the birth." Says Loki. "Men are not allowed in the birthing room. You know this." She says. Frigga backs her up, "Loki my son, it would not do for you to see your beloved in such a state, you would only be in the way. Let the healers do their work. I will stay with her and see to her comfort. You need to wait outside with your father and brother." Loki was going to protest once more when he felt the hands of Thor and Odin on him as they dragged him out of the room. Loki snarls at them as the doors to the birthing room shut and lock.

The three men have a seat on the bench outside the room. Thor and Odin have Loki wedged in between them. "Take your hands off me!" Loki barks. He crosses his arms and sits in a pouting manner, glowering at his family. "Aralia is in capable hands, my son, fret not." "Don't tell me not to fret, she's my wife I'll fret if I want to." Loki says almost childishly. Odin calls to a servant to bring them mead. The man's bench, as it is known is where all the future fathers of Asgard have had to sit and wait for their children to come into the world. As the only thing to do while waiting is listen to the sounds of their women cry out in pain and anguish, the men more often than not take to drinking. It's all they can do. It's quiet for the moment and Loki takes to pacing the floor. The mead arrives. Thor and Odin take readily to drinking it but Loki turns it down. "Loki, you should be celebrating. You are about to become a father. Come sit and imbibe with us." Odin admonishes. "No, what if something goes wrong and she needs me, but I'm too drunk to assist her. No, I need to keep my wits about me." Loki says. "If something goes wrong she is in capable hands. Lady Eir is responsible for safely bring many an Asgardian child into the world, and her record is commendable. There is nothing you can do but wait." Loki continues to pace, until her hears the first scream through the door. He lunges at it, and when it refuses to give, he tries his magic on it to make the door open, but to no avail. Lady Eir had expected he would try something like that.

Hearing his love crying out in pain in the birthing room, and not being able to do anything about it, Loki takes the mug of mead from his father's hand. He sits back down on the bench and drinks deeply of his mead. When it is finished he orders another. It is going to be a long night.

About an hour into the labor the doors open and one of the healers steps out. Loki tries to sneak a peek inside as the door opens and closes briefly, but he sees nothing of import. "It has been determined that the babies are too big to be born naturally, they must be birthed by the knife. This process will actually be much quicker than natural labor and we anticipate your children should be born within the hour." She says. "Thank you, healer, for the update. Please keep us posted." Says Thor. Thor places his big meaty arm around his brother's shoulder to comfort and assure him. Loki scowls at him but does not move away. Time drags on. Loki feels like climbing the walls.

Finally, after an eternity and much mead, Frigga opens the doors to the birthing room. "You may come in now my son." For a brief moment, Loki's legs will not move, as if they have forgotten how to function. He all but stumbles on his first step and then rushes into the room. Aralia is awake and smiling, though a little worn. She has a baby in each arm. They are naked and lying against the bare skin of her chest. Loki looks at them and for a moment feels alarm. They are of disproportionate sizes. At first he thinks one to be grossly undersized, until he realizes that in fact one of the babies is oversized, almost the size of a Frost Giant infant. No wonder they had to be birthed by the knife. The larger infant is a boy with a full head of black hair and blue green eyes. The smaller baby is a girl, though she is still a large baby.

"They were both blue of skin and red of eye when they first came out, but changed color once in their mother's arms." Says Frigga. So, they are Jotun monsters like their father. Their heritage is obvious in their size alone. The boy will be a great warrior when he is older; the girl may have trouble finding a mate because she is too tall, and half-Jotun. In the meantime, the other children will surely taunt them. "Would you like to hold your son my love?" asks Aralia. Loki wordlessly nods his head. Frigga reaches down and pulls Loki's son from his mother's chest and carries him to his father. Frigga gently place the boy in his father's arms, cradling the head. The infant is about as large as a normal 2 year old, but has all the hallmarks of a newborn. Loki in spite of himself, cannot suppress his smile. "My son, he's my son. Look at him father. He is so strong. He will be able to wield a sword by his first birthday." Odin smiles, his joy in his new grandchild obvious. The group chatters amongst themselves for a while. Everyone takes turns holding the babies. Loki kisses Aralia gently. He is so proud of his Omega. He is in awe of her to have carried not one but two infants of extraordinary size. She never complained, at least, not to him. A lively debate is held on what to name the children. But Loki and Aralia eventually decided on Fenrir for their son, and Evelina for their daughter.

The following morning, the birth announcement is made and celebrations and feasting ensue. The entire kingdom is happy for the lucky couple. The successful rare birth of twins is most definitely a cause for celebration. Loki is overwhelmed by the tidal wave of good wishes from his people. Some are nobles sucking up to him because of his position, but most are sincere. Interestingly his wife the Omega is very popular. She has become a hero to the Kingdom, the embodiment of omega virtue and fertility. All omegas should strive to please their alphas the way Aralia has pleased Loki. If not for the taboo nature in which she and Loki united, she would be considered the perfect Omega, but she is to be commended for her role none the less.

The first few nights took some getting used to. Aralia's breast quickly swelled with milk after the birth, and her stomach looked as flat and smooth as the day Loki first laid eyes on her. Thanks in no small part to the healers. Loki watched with rapt attention as his children fed from their mother. Her burgeoning breasts would swell painfully just before feeding time. Loki found himself having to suppress the desire to alleviate her suffering himself. He longed to make love to her again, but knew she would still need time to let her body recover. So he poured his energy into his children. For the first time in his life, Loki feels truly content.