A/N: OMG it has been a hot minute. I'm so sorry about that. Studying for the bar exam (again) but I really wanted to get you guys a new chapter because you've been so wonderful and patient. This chapter was originally supposed to show Grace's baby shower, and I was going to write a whole scene with it in there, but I felt like I could better use the chapter to do other things. Instead, I developed the relationships between Vivian and Frigga and Loki and Amy, dealt with Grace's fears about becoming a parent again, and brought in a bit of foreshadowing at the end. The chapter really is about the relationships between parents and children, and parents with other parents. The song I've chosen reflects that, too - even when we grow up, our parents are still our parents, and it doesn't matter if we're adopted or not. The feelings are the same.

Also, it occurred to me that in the original story, Loki was the one afraid of parenting and Grace seemed so sure; this time, it's reversed. It's an interesting dynamic to play with. Maybe some of that fear is my own, too - I just became an aunt for the first time in June, and it's not nearly as scary as parenting but it's still nervewracking to worry about screwing up somehow. So now I have a taste of how Loki felt when he was first getting to know Amy. Anyway, I hope y'all enjoy this chapter, and I hope I don't take as long getting the next one out. Things are about to start getting WILD.

Comments are so appreciated and make me squee - I love hearing from you guys! :)

Song: "Child of Mine" by Carole King

"All right, honey, is there anyone else you want to invite?"

Vivian passed Grace the list of guests for the baby shower, which had climbed to thirty since the previous weekend's planning session. Grace scanned the names, considering—not for the first time—canceling the entire event.

"Ma, who the hell is Marlene Archer?" she asked.

"She's one of the women in my yoga class."

"Okay," Grace replied, "I know you think this should be obvious, but why is someone I've never met invited to my baby shower?"

"Because I have had to listen to Marlene brag about her son-in-law, the thoracic surgeon, for three years!" Vivian exclaimed. "It's about time she meets my future son-in-law, the prince!"

Grace's eyes widened in horror. "Ma!"

Vivian started laughing. "Relax, honey! I'm kidding. At least about the prince part. But Loki is better looking than her son-in-law, and actually spends time with his child."

"Yes, and that is what he's going to be doing the day of the shower." Grace refilled her mother's coffee mug and inhaled the scent deep into her lungs. "God, I miss caffeine. As soon as this kid is born, I'm going to need someone to bring me the biggest latte they can find. If I drink any more herbal tea, I might actually turn into a tea leaf."

"That sounds like something I might have done to my brother." Loki's impish voice filled the apartment as he pushed the apartment door open with his shoulder, balancing two grocery bags in his arms.

"I'm surprised you didn't do that to him," Grace replied, hurrying to the door to help him.

"Grace, my love, you shouldn't—"

He didn't get more than those words out before she grabbed a bag from his arms with the slightest roll of her eyes. Ever since she had started showing, Loki had been trying to keep her from doing anything he deemed too physically exhausting. She knew he was trying to be supportive and helpful, but she wished he would dial it back a bit. Many women would have loved to have a partner who waited on them hand and foot, but Grace wasn't one of them. She just didn't know how to tell him that.

"How was work?" she asked, trying to distract herself.

He set the bag he was still holding onto the counter and kissed Grace's mother on her cheek, murmuring a quick greeting to her. "It was as it usually is. That is to say, quiet but busy. How have you ladies spent your afternoon?"

Vivian motioned to the guest list, still on the counter. "Trying to figure out how to get an invitation to a completely different planet," she said. "Speaking of which, is there anyone else we should invite from your side?"

Loki was slightly taken aback. He hadn't even known what a baby shower was until a few months ago, and he certainly didn't know anyone on Asgard who he would want to invite to such an event, other than his mother. It suddenly struck him that he had a wider social circle on Earth than he ever had on Asgard.

"I cannot think of anyone," he said.

With that, Vivian stood up and began to collect her belongings. "Okay then. All we need to do is finalize a date and then I can get these sent out. Can I assume you have a way to get one to your mother? Some kind of otherworldly delivery service?"

He suppressed a laugh. If only she knew that Heimdall was probably already sending word to Frigga via a servant—

Suddenly, something occurred to him. "Actually, I have only just realized there is someone who should be added to your list."

That was news to Grace; other than Frigga, she didn't have the slightest idea who he would have in mind. Maybe Frigga had a sister Grace wasn't aware of?

Vivian took the list out of her planner and clicked her pen, looking at Loki expectantly. "Go ahead."

"I'm afraid I do not know her family name, but her given name is Dagmar," he said. "She works in the palace. I am certain I can get word to her, as she works with my mother's ladies."

Grace smiled broadly. Just a few months, Loki couldn't even remember Dagmar's name, and now he was thoughtful enough to invite her to attend what was, technically, a royal baby's shower.

"Perfect," Vivian said. "I'll just hold onto their invitations until the shower, and they can have them as keepsakes." She pushed her horn-rimmed glasses up onto her nose. "Grace, honey, let me know when you decide on a date."

"I'm just waiting to hear back from Leah about when she and Ian are going to be in Africa."

"Let me guess," Vivian laughed. "Ian's turn to pick the vacation destination?"

Grace shrugged. "I mean, I'd like that trip, but Leah is much more of an…indoor girl." Loki filed this information away for later use.

"Well, at any rate, keep me posted," Vivian replied. "We don't have as much time as we did last go around."

Grace walked her mother to the door. "We have plenty of time. It's not like we don't already have all the things we need anyway."

"I know, but—"

"Ma, you're being a nudzh!" Grace laughed. "It'll be fine, I promise. I'll call Leah tomorrow."

Vivian kissed her on the cheek and blew a kiss to Loki, who was, by then, making tea. After she shut the door, Grace let out a sigh of relief. Loki handed her a mug, the strong scent of peppermint wafting out of it.

"She only means to be helpful," he said.

Grace sank onto the sofa, absently pulling her auburn waves into a ponytail. "I know. It's just…"

He sat down next to her. "What is it?"

She stared into her mug, as if it held the answer. "I feel guilty for even saying this, but I don't even want this baby shower."

He tilted his head. "So why not simply tell her that?"

She was surprised, thinking he would have tried to change her mind. "It isn't as simple as that. My mom has been looking forward to this for years."

"Did you not just say that you had a shower for Amy's birth?"

She nodded. "I did. I mean, we did. But, I mean, the circumstances surrounding my pregnancy…" She trailed off but she didn't need to say anything more.

"I see," he said thoughtfully. "Well, would you simply prefer a smaller party? Or none at all?"

She realized she didn't really have a response to that. It was hard for her to imagine telling her mother that she didn't want another baby shower, especially now that she had seen how excited Vivian was. But there was a small part of her that wished anyone had asked her opinion about any of this before the train left the station.

"I guess I'm just not really comfortable being the center of attention. I mean, you saw it when I met your family. I knew everyone was staring, and it was really hard to enjoy myself because of it." She shook her head as if to clear the thoughts from it. "What's wrong with me? What kind of woman doesn't want a baby shower?"

He drew her into his arms and felt her relax against his chest. The familiar scent of cotton candy brought him back to the first time he had been close enough to smell it—the day he asked him to live with her. At the time, he had said he couldn't substitute for Amy's father. Now, two years later, he wasn't just Amy's father; he was about to be Grace's husband and have a child he helped create. She had given him all this, and he just wanted her to be happy.

"I think," he began, tracing circles on her back with his fingertips, "that, as the person who is tasked with carrying this child, you are in the best position to decide whether or not you want this party."

She leaned her forehead against his shoulder and let out a heavy sigh. "Oh, Loki, what am I going to do? Just not show up?"

"I suppose that isn't an option," he said, although Grace wasn't entirely sure it wasn't a question. "Would it help at all if I attended with you?"

She let out a quiet laugh. "No. Just make an appearance so that my mom can have bragging rights. Besides, isn't that when you were going to take Amy for a little father-daughter time?"

"'Twas," he said, "but if my being present at this event would make it easier—"

"Seriously, honey, it's okay." She sat up and stifled a yawn; she was more tired the last three weeks than she had been during all nine months of her last pregnancy. Loki, however, noticed the catch in her breath.

"Perhaps a nap would do you some good," he suggested. "It might give you some clarity on the issue."

She checked her watch. "I can't. I have to get Amy up from her nap and make dinner, and then—"

He took her gently by the arm. "I can do those things."

She rubbed her eyes and felt another yawn creeping into her throat. "I still have work to do…"

"I am certain that Tom will understand the situation. After all, he was the one who suggested you work from home, was he not?"

That much was true. Soon after they had returned from Asgard, she had informed her boss and the human resources department about the pregnancy. True to form, Tom had been happy for her, although he did crack a self-deprecating joke about how this would really be her third child because he was her second. She had rolled her eyes and tried to start assuring him that nothing would change; after all, she had worked all the way up until Amy was born. But Tom was different than her previous boss. For all his politically incorrect humor and sarcasm, he was incredibly supportive and did everything he could to help make her life easier, including letting her work from home part-time while keeping her health insurance.

He was, in fact, very much like Loki.

She rolled her shoulders and took her hair down; it was too heavy to keep pulled back for very long. Whether it was the prenatal vitamins or the pregnancy itself, her hair seemed to be growing at twice the rate as it usually did. As though reading her mind, Loki smoothed it away from her shoulders and she shivered at his fingers as they grazed her neck.

"Maybe you're right," she finally said, resigned to her exhaustion. "Okay. Amy has to be up in no more than twenty minutes, or she won't sleep tonight. And the chicken is ready in the fridge. It just needs to go into the oven at—"

He cut her off with a gentle kiss. "My dear, I am quite sure I can handle dinner. After all, I impressed your mother with my breadmaking talents."

She rolled her eyes but laughed. "Are you ever going to let that go?"

Slowly, she got to her feet and stretched, her eggplant-hued shirt rising just enough to reveal the bottom of her abdomen. Loki couldn't resist; he reached out and placed his hands on either side of her stomach. Her skin was cold, as it so often was by that point in the pregnancy. He turned his eyes toward hers, as if seeking approval, which she gave in the form of a contented smile.

"My sweet little one," he murmured against the swell of her belly, "let your mother get some rest. She's got to have her strength for the party your grandmother is planning."

Grace put her hands over his. "Don't scare the poor kid before he even gets here. You saw Amy's first birthday, but that'll seem downright laid back compared to the insanity that will be this shower."

He planted a kiss on her stomach and let her squeeze past him. "I'm sure it will—wait, have you already decided, then?"

She gazed across the room, over his shoulder, at a photo of her mother and Amy, taken at the park just before Grace had met him. "Well, I guess I was just thinking…before you came along to make dinner and take care of Amy, it was mostly my mom who…" She swallowed hard. "If not for her, I don't know what I'd have done. So, I can do this for her."

Without another word, but with a tired smile, she drifted off to the bedroom, a hand cradling her belly.

Loki collected the tea mugs and took them to the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator and took the chicken out to put in the oven, considering Grace the whole time. One of the things he loved most about her—in fact, the thing that had caused him to love her from the start—was her innate selflessness. It wasn't that she was a pushover, or that she was without any selfish tendencies. But if, on balance, someone else's joy would outweigh her inconvenience, she would usually put their needs first. It was how he had come to live with her in the first place. So, it didn't surprise him at all that she had, in the time it took for him to convince her to take a nap, decided to allow the party to go forward for Vivian's sake.

At the same time, however, he felt a great pang in his heart as he tried to remember the last time that he had made such a gesture for his own mother. She had not only nurtured him but had taught him to harness the very magic he later used to inflict pain on others in order to obtain his selfish desires. Although he had done all he could think to make amends for the damage he had caused on Earth, he had not until that moment considered the specific pain that he had caused Frigga. Maybe he had been so focused on repairing the brokenness between himself and his father and brother that it never occurred to him that his kind, forgiving mother might have also been hurt by the havoc he had wreaked.

Frigga had given him life in every way that counted, and, in his estimation, he had given her nothing in return.

Before he could further contemplate the situation with his mother, however, a tiny figure emerged from the hallway, carrying her favorite doll. "Daddy?"

Of all the names he had ever been called, that was the one he never got tired of hearing. He walked around the counter and knelt in front of her. "Weren't you in your crib?" he asked, smoothing her curls away from her forehead.

She nodded and rubbed her eyes with her free hand. "I woke up."

"I can see that. How did you get out?"

The look on her face was so like one of his own that anyone who didn't know better would never know she wasn't his biological child.

"Magic," she said, as though it should have been obvious.

He chuckled and lifted her into his arms. She wrapped her tiny hands around his neck and gently tugged at the ends of his hair. It was a habit she picked up as an infant, especially when she was just coming out of sleep's gentle grasp.

"Well, then," he said with a smile, "I suppose your mother and I should transform your crib into a bed, should we not?"

Before she knew it, the day of Grace's baby shower arrived. And she was a wreck.

The pregnancy had been more exhausting than any other physical condition she had ever experienced. As Leea had warned when she concluded Grace's examination, all the symptoms were ten times worse than they had been at the same point in her last pregnancy. She was constantly tired, her feet swelled so much that she had to buy new shoes, everything she ate seemed to give her heartburn, and, worst of all, her breasts were so tender that any touch, no matter how light, would make her wince in pain.

And those were the good days; there were a few every other week or so when she could barely get out of bed. When that happened, Vivian would take Amy and Grace would work from the bedroom until her brain fogged over and she couldn't fight sleep any longer.

Those were the days that both amazed and frightened Loki; amazed by Grace's strength—a strength that, even as a demigod, he could never have—and frightened by what the pregnancy was doing to her. She always insisted she was fine, but he knew her too well. Even if she were in agony, she would never admit it. Sometimes, he secretly wished she would allow herself to break apart so that he could try to take some of the emotional burden.

Failing that, he determined to do what he could to make her more physically comfortable. He brought her tea and ordered delivery and did the grocery shopping using lists she made for him. He dropped off and picked up work materials at her office and gave her back massages every chance he got. But no matter how much he could and would do, he could not attend the baby shower in her stead. The most he could do was what was asked of him: appear with Grace at the party before venturing out with Amy for an afternoon of father-daughter time. It was extremely important to both Grace and Loki that Amy be reminded that she was still loved. So, while Grace celebrated their growing family, Loki would tend to the center of it.

"Are you almost ready, love?" he called from the kitchen. "We need to meet my mother and Dagmar before—"

Suddenly, he heard a familiar scream and a frustrated groan, followed by a flurry of red curls running through the living room. Grace burst forth from the hallway, holding Amy's shorts, the look on her face somewhere between angry and exhausted.

"Amy! Come here! Now!" she said, a sharp tone in her voice that Loki rarely heard her use, especially with their daughter. Unfortunately, Amy's response was to run and hide behind the chair-and-a-half in the corner of the room, where the only way to retrieve her would be to move the entire thing.

Grace turned to Loki, and before she could say anything, he was already heading toward the chair. Slowly, he lowered himself down onto the cushions and peered over the back of it. Keeping his voice low and even, he asked, "Amy, what's the matter?"

She was hunched in the space between the chair and the wall, arms wrapped around her knees. Her face was scrunched in childish anger, but it was all he could do to contain his smile. She looked up at him with saucer eyes. "I don't want Mommy to go!"

"May I ask why?"

"I want her to stay here."

Obviously, Loki thought, but he knew that he could not reason with an angry two-year-old, nor was he going to get any further explanation out of her. The most he could hope for would be distraction.

"Well, Mommy has to go to a special party," he said, "but if you want, you and I can go say goodbye to her there, and then we can do anything you want."

Amy looked down at her tiny fingernails, apparently considering the idea. When she looked back up, she squinted at him, as though he was trying to trick her.

"Can we have ice cream?"

Loki smiled and leaned down toward her. "With sprinkles," he whispered conspiratorially. "Now, can you come out and let Mommy keep getting you dressed?"

She bit her lower lip but nodded. "Okay, Daddy."

She allowed Loki to lift her out of her hiding space, but when he turned to put her down, he saw that Grace was gone. Confused though he was, he attended to the task at hand. He managed to get Amy into the tiny denim shorts that had been left on the couch, one leg at a time, and then handed her a book.

"Can you sit quietly for a few minutes, sweetheart?" he asked, but she was already so engrossed in The Story of Ferdinand that she didn't even acknowledge him.

Satisfied that she would be entertained for the time being, Loki set off for the bedroom, only to find it empty. He turned and was about to knock on the bathroom door when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw the door to the spare room open just a crack. He pushed it open and found Grace sitting on the bed—the bed that was his before she had brought him into hers. She had her back to him, but he could see her shoulders shaking, head bowed.

"Grace?" he whispered. "What happened?"

"I'm—I'll be fine," she lied.

He walked around the bed to sit next to her. "Amy is dressed. If we can pry her away from Ferdinand, we may still make the party."

He offered her a small smile, but she didn't return it. After a few uncomfortably silent moments, she said, "Do you remember the night of Amy's first birthday party when she started crying while I was in the shower?"

He ran a hand over the quilt. "I was, as I recall, laying in this very bed."

"Well, when I found you, you were in the nursery, holding her and singing."

"I have never forgotten that," he said, "and even if I could, Heimdall would remind me. I'm quite sure he found it highly amusing."

She did manage a smile that time and wiped at her eyes with her fingertips. "You were so good with her. I'd never seen anyone besides my mom be able to calm her down that fast." She hesitated, and then glanced at him, aware that he was looking at her quite intently. "I fell in love with you that night, because I knew you loved her."

His breath caught in his chest. "You have never told me that."

"You never asked."

"Fair."

When he didn't say anything else, she continued, "I was so happy that you loved her so much. I was happy to have a partner."

Suddenly, a frightening thought overtook him. "Grace," he began, "I notice—that is, I—you keep using the past tense."

Her head jerked up. "What?"

His heart was beating so hard he could feel it in his throat. "You said you were happy to have me as a partner. Does that mean—"

Her eyes widened and her voice rose to almost a squeak. "Oh, no, no, no, Loki. No. Never," she cried. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean—"

He let out the breath he didn't even know he was holding. At least she hadn't changed her mind. But then, what was troubling her?

"What I was trying to say," she continued, "is that I love that Amy loves you so much. I love that you love her so much. But sometimes, I worry…"

"You worry what?"

Her eyes flashed a bright blue and he saw frustration rising in the color of her cheeks. "She fought me for fifteen minutes over those fucking shorts! And then she hides in a place she knows I can't get to her because of this"—she gestured to her burgeoning stomach—"and somehow in, like, thirty seconds, you get her to come out and put on her pants."

She buried her head in her hands and started crying again. He didn't know what to do. He thought about all the times he wished she would let him see her emotional pain, and now he was regretting it. Not because he couldn't take it, but because he hated seeing her like this.

"What can I do?" he asked, putting a hand on her shoulder.

She made a noise that was somewhere between a laugh and a sob, but since her face was in her hands, he couldn't be sure which it was. When she removed them, she shook her head, scolding herself as she had when she'd debated canceling the shower.

"I'm sorry, Loki," she said. "I think it's just the hormones."

"Something else is going on here that has nothing to do with hormones." He kept his eyes soft but penetrating and, after a few moments, she finally returned his gaze.

"You'll think I'm being stupid."

He shook his head. "I could never think that of you. I reserve that word for those who deserve it. Like my dear brother, or Stark."

She snorted. "Okay. But promise me you won't—"

"Grace, please, just tell me."

"It's just…if you're a better parent to Amy, then what's going to happen when we have a baby that biologically belongs to you? If I can't be as good a parent to a human child as you are, then how will I be able to—how can I hope to be a good parent to one that's only half-human?" The words sounded even more ridiculous out loud than they did in her head and she sighed. "I'm sorry. I know that's not fair."

"Please stop apologizing," he said. He wasn't angry in the least, but his heart ached at the suggestion that she thought he was a better parent than she was. "It is true that I have a relationship with Amy that you do not, but it pales in comparison to the one you have with her."

"I know, I know. I just meant—"

"And may I remind you," he continued, ignoring her attempt at protesting, "that you carried her, gave birth to her, and raised her without me for almost a year. The only reason I know how to dress her at all is because you are a wonderful mother who was willing to teach me how. And neither of us knows what is coming with this child, but if we are lost, we will be lost together."

Grace gazed into his seafoam eyes, sparkling with affection for her. He was such a different man than he was when she first met him. He had become so human that she often forgot that he wasn't human.

"I love you so much," she finally said. "I know you're trying to help. I just wish you weren't so good at it all the time."

He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. "If you want me to be less perfect, I could skip the party." His smirk said he was kidding, but she wasn't taking any chances.

"Oh, please," she said with a smile. "The biggest advantage of you being perfect is that I get to make all the other women in the world jealous."

Before they could go to Grace's synagogue, where the party was to be held, they had to stop at a nearby park to meet Frigga and Dagmar. Amy was, as always, mesmerized by the Bifrost's light, and squealed with delight when she saw her paternal grandmother. To Grace's relief, both Frigga and Dagmar had dressed in "normal" clothes, as Thor did when he visited. Dagmar had shortened her floor-length, toga-style Asgardian gown to her knees and had put her dark hair into a low chignon.

Frigga's outfit, on the other hand, was something Vivian might have worn; both Grace and Loki were surprised to see her in a champagne-colored pant suit. When she saw their expressions, she simply explained that it was a special occasion. Grace was especially amused by this, but not entirely shocked—when dresses were the norm, it made sense that pants would be "dressing up."

They arrived at the synagogue a short time later, and after introductions were made and Vivian had gushed over her soon-to-be son-in-law in front of all her friends, Loki and Amy said goodbye and left to have a party of their own.

"Well, my love," he said as they walked toward the subway, "what shall we do today?"

Amy tightened her grip on Loki's hand. "You said ice cream!"

He grinned. "And to think your mother doesn't see her effect on you," he said under his breath, hearing Grace's excited squeal in his daughter's voice. "Ice cream it is!"

Twenty minutes later, they were sitting on a park bench, each of them eating the same thing—chocolate ice cream with the rainbow sprinkles he had promised her—when Amy looked up at him. "Daddy?"

"Yes, love?"

"When do I get to meet the baby?"

He shrugged. "Well, we do not know for sure, but we think by the end of October. Not long from now."

Amy took another lick of her ice cream and then said, "What happens when the baby gets here?"

Loki wasn't entirely sure what she meant. He knew enough about human biology to explain, but he did not know how to do it in a way that she would understand at her age. "I—well—when the baby is ready to be born—"

She shook her head, loosening the pigtails Grace had tied them into. "Does the baby get my room?"

He breathed a sigh of relief. This, he could handle. "No, sweetheart, of course not. The baby will go in the room next to yours."

She took another bite of her ice cream and got some on her tiny nose. "Did you and Uncle Thor share a room when you came out of grandma's tummy?"

He winced slightly. Neither he nor Grace had ever thought to tell Amy about his being adopted. Oddly, they also hadn't discussed whether or when to tell her about her own parentage. After all, Loki was the only father she had ever known. Besides, she was too young to begin to comprehend the circumstances.

Then again, when he learned of his own adoption, all those years of being deceived had contributed to his undoing. Was it the right choice to hide it? He knew, of course, that Odin had done it partly for political reasons. And what of his mother? Had she genuinely believed it to be the right decision, or had she simply gone along with what Odin asked of her, as his queen?

But perhaps there was something more that went into their choice. Perhaps they truly had wanted to protect him, so that he would never feel different, even if it hadn't worked. Slowly, he began to understand the difficulty of Odin and Frigga's decision. In fact, since becoming a parent, he had begun to understand more about his own mother and father than he ever thought possible.

He decided to split the difference. After quickly finishing his ice cream, he lifted Amy onto his lap and wiped the chocolate from her nose with a brush of his thumb. But her expectant face made him realize that he had no idea how to explain this after all. He suddenly wished he had waited for Grace to be there. Unfortunately, he had no choice now.

"Well," he started, "the truth is, I didn't come out of your grandma's tummy. Uncle Thor and I have different parents." She didn't say anything, so he continued. "Uncle Thor's parents are the grandparents you met up in space."

Amy was looking at him curiously now. "What happened to your mommy and daddy?"

He was now very much regretting having started this conversation and shifted uncomfortably on the bench. How could he explain Laufey in any way that would make sense but also not terrify her? And as for his birth mother, well, he didn't even know who she was. Laufey had so many concubines that it could have been any Jotun woman.

While trying to figure out a way to explain everything, he looked around at the other children and their parents. They all seemed so happy and natural; no one would know whether any of the children had been adopted. Whether they were playing tag, reading under a tree, or eating ice cream, the only thing that mattered was who raised them, not whose blood they shared.

"I never knew them," he said, and, strangely, did not feel like he was lying. "I suppose Uncle Thor and I do have the same parents after all. It's just that they chose to be my parents after I was already born. Does that make sense to you?"

Amy nodded, the fingers on her free hand playing over one of his, tracing his veins like roads on a map. "Is it like Marco and his mommy on Sesame Street?"

He internally thanked Grace's parents for introducing Amy to the Midgardian children's show, as well as whomever thought it would be a good idea to introduce a child who was adopted into its world.

"Yes," he said with a smile. "It is precisely like that."

She looked back up at him with an exasperated expression and spoke in a tone to match. "You didn't answer my question, Daddy!"

"I'm sorry, darling. What was it again?"

With the same frustrated tone, she repeated, "Did you have to share a room?"

He started laughing. It didn't matter to Amy whether Odin and Loki shared the same blood, or whether Loki knew where his biological father was. She just wanted to know if she was going to have to share a room with the brother or sister she didn't yet know. Sometimes there was more wisdom to be found in a child's mind than anyone realized.

"Your uncle and I had our own rooms," he replied, kissing her forehead. "But I did occasionally sneak into his."

Her face relaxed back into its normal, slightly curious expression. "Why?"

Loki smirked, remembering the times he would hide under his brother's bed and jump out in the form of a giant wolf or spider. "Just to visit," he replied.

Amy finished her ice cream cone and Loki wiped her face and hands with her napkin. "Thank you for my ice cream, Daddy," she said.

"Oh, you're welcome, my love." He lifted her off his lap and stood up, brushing his hands off. "Now, what shall we do next?"

"Can we go to the library? Please?" She looked hopeful, like she thought he might say no. Of all the things she could ask to do—play on the swings, in the sandbox, with the other children—she wanted to go to the place Loki loved most.

"Of course," he replied, taking her hand again, and he felt his heart swell. Amy Lawson might not have shared his blood or his name, but she was still his, in all the ways that truly mattered.

"I really can't tell you how wonderful it was to have you come. Grace has spoken so highly of you," Vivian said to Frigga as they sat in her apartment enjoying a cup of tea after the shower. Dagmar had returned to Asgard at the request of one of the members of Frigga's court, and Grace, having been exhausted by the party, excused herself for a nap.

Frigga smiled warmly. "Likewise. Grace is quite a unique and kind young woman."

"We did our best," Vivian replied. "She was a bit of a challenge at times, but then, aren't all children at some point?"

Frigga nodded. "Some more than others, as I'm sure you know…" She cast her eyes downward for a moment, as though she didn't want to acknowledge what she had implied. But Vivian simply shrugged and placed a hand on top of Frigga's.

"The only Loki I know is the Loki who has made my daughter happy."

"Thank you for that. And thank you again for having me here today. I do hope that Grace was pleased with the gift."

Vivian's eyebrows shot toward her hairline. "Are you kidding? It's beautiful!" she exclaimed. Frigga and Dagmar had brought a beautiful painting of Yggdrasil, the Tree of Life, to hang in the baby's nursery. After the shower ended, Dagmar had explained to Grace and Vivian that the painting had been enchanted; as Loki and Grace's child grew, the painting would become more intricate. It was intended to symbolize the connection the baby had with both Midgard and Asgard.

"I am glad to hear it," Frigga said. "I was concerned when she began to cry."

"Oh," Vivian laughed, "that's just Grace's way. She cries at everything. Always has, since she was a little girl." Then, a thought occurred to her. "Do women have baby showers where you're from?"

Frigga shook her head. "No, but I quite wish we did. It was a lovely experience."

"How do you celebrate births, then?"

"Well, as you can imagine, the way our sons were celebrated is quite different from the way most of Asgard's citizens would celebrate the birth of their children…"

Vivian hesitated for a minute but then the realization hit her. "Oh, of course. I sometimes forget. It's just that I only know him as—"

This time, Frigga patted Vivian's hand. "Oh, please don't apologize. If I am being honest, lately, I often forget my son is a prince as well. Your daughter, it seems, has made him human." When Vivian's rosy complexion went white, Frigga leaned forward warmly. "That was intended as a compliment."

Vivian visibly relaxed. "Well, as I said, Loki has been wonderful for her, and for Amy. Why do you think I wanted him to stop by the party? He's everything I could want in a son-in-law, and I wanted all of my friends to see that."

Frigga's eyes sparkled. "I will admit that I never imagined Loki having a family of his own, and now…well, let's just say that his father and I are quite excited."

Vivian stood up from the table and started to take Frigga's empty cup. "More tea?" But Frigga stood as well and stopped her.

"Please. Allow me."

"But you're—"

"I am only a queen on Asgard," Frigga replied. "You have done more than enough today."

Although she looked slightly uncomfortable with the idea, Vivian sat back down. "I'm sorry. It's just…strange," she said, watching Frigga reheat the water in the kettle. "I mean this with all the respect in the world, but you don't seem—I mean, I suppose I always had this idea of royalty—"

Frigga laughed. "Thor's partner said the same of me when we met. I would like to think it's possible to be both royal and ordinary."

That got Vivian's attention. "You're like Ruth."

"I'm sorry?"

Vivian smoothed her silver hair back behind her ears and, when Frigga set their cups down between them, took a deep breath. "There's a story in our faith—in Judaism, that is—that during a famine, a Jewish man named Elimelech took his two sons and wife to a city named Moab to find food. The Moabites worshipped idols and had their own beliefs. Unfortunately, Elimelech and his sons all died, leaving behind his wife, Naomi, and her daughters-in-law, one of whom was named Ruth. Naomi told them both to remarry and stay in Moab, while she returned to Israel. One of the girls did, but Ruth refused. What she told Naomi is one of the more famous quotes from our holy book." Vivian paused to take a deep breath, recalling the exact words from the Torah. "'Do not entreat me to leave you, to return from following you, for wherever you go, I will go, and wherever you lodge, I will lodge; your people shall be my people and your God my God. Where you die, I will die, and there I will be buried.'"

"A beautiful story," Frigga said. "So, Ruth stayed with her mother-in-law, then?"

Vivian nodded and pushed the sleeves of her cardigan up a bit. "She stayed with Naomi, converted to the Jewish faith, and chose to live as an ordinary woman rather than the royal she was born." She caught Frigga's eyes. "That's why I thought of you. Someone who seems…both royal and ordinary, I suppose, but also exceptionally loyal and honest."

For a moment, Frigga looked like she might cry, as though it had been years since someone had said such kind things about her. "Vivian, I now know where Grace gets her kind heart," she said. But Vivian heard a distinct sadness in Frigga's voice, and, with the same kindness of which Frigga spoke, pretended not to notice.

"Majesties, thank you for coming."

Odin and Thor had just barely reached the observatory, and, unsurprisingly, Heimdall had acknowledged them before they got one foot in the doorway. "If you have sent for us, it is undoubtedly serious," Thor said.

Heimdall's amber eyes flickered against the light of the observatory. "Since the announcement of the impending birth of Prince Loki's child, as Your Majesty requested, I have been monitoring Jotunheim."

Not wasting time on formalities, Odin asked, "What have you seen?"

It was then that Heimdall turned toward them, and Thor could hear a whisper of fear and see the concern cutting lines in his friend's face. "I can neither see nor hear any activity whatsoever," Heimdall replied. "I sensed…"

Thor's heart thumped against his armor. He wasn't afraid so much as agitated. Before Odin could say anything, he asked, "You sensed what? An oncoming attack?"

Heimdall shook his head. "It is not an attack I sensed. It is a presence. Something not of Jotunheim. And yet I can neither see nor hear it. Everything," he finished, "has gone silent."

Thor's thoughts raced. Loki had destroyed half of Jotunheim, reducing it to little more than rubble. He had also killed their king. But as far Thor knew, they believed Loki dead. Why would Jotunheim suddenly attack Asgard after all this time, especially since they knew Odin had regained control of the throne? But then why could Heimdall not hear or see their realm? What were they hiding? And why were they hiding it?

Odin, on the other hand, had not taken his eyes off the great expanse of space in front of them, as if searching for something in the stars. His fingers tightened around Gungnir and he took a deep breath.

"Heimdall, I will need to know the moment there is a change in this situation. If you see or hear anything—anything at all—I will need to know immediately."

"As you wish, Your Majesty."

Odin turned to Thor. "Loki and his family require immediate protection. You will need to go to Midgard and seek it out."

"Why not simply bring them here?" Thor asked. "You wished for Grace to have the baby here."

Odin shook his head. "You misunderstand. Protection cannot be afforded here until we make adequate preparations. But they will require it immediately."

It took a moment, but Thor understood. "Yes. Yes, of course. I know what to do."

With a curt nod, he strode out of the observatory, headed for the one place he knew would be safe, hoping he could convince the people there to assist him.