Author's Note: Sorry, but I do not go into any gross details. This is the one time I will probably ever write a male pregnancy, and this is as good as it gets for me!

Thor couldn't explain what had possessed him to travel to the castle stables. He had been enjoying a luncheon with his family and good friends; a delicious meal of glazed ox with almonds, and a very nice dark wine. He'd actually been mid-sip when the feeling stirred. It was just instinct, he supposed, a feeling deep in his gut, screaming at him to go-where? he didn't know. Wherever the god's feet took him.

Halfway there, of course, Thor figured out where he was going, and the feeling became more urgent. Tripping over his own feet slightly, the commander of thunder broke out into a jog, sweat starting to perspire his body not from exertion, but worry. Deep, agonizing dear, almost.

Something felt wrong, something was happening, somewhere. And then, it hit him.

Loki.

Loki, the God of Mischief, his own brother, had disappeared months ago. No word was left, and nothing was ever heard of him. For a good while, the kingdom of Asgard mourned in heartbreak. This included Thor, whom hardly enjoyed the simple pleasure of living without his sibling. Asgard remained in a mellow state of silence for weeks, and in those weeks, shadows made Thor jump, swearing he heard his name, or saw familiar piercing eyes from those dark corners. Eventually, though, life went on, and everyone had agreed to carry on in ignorance; mayhaps Loki was just on a journey, and would return any day.

The thought started to burn behind Thor's eyes, taking over his mind and heart, stomach churning the previously digesting food into nervous knots, almost making the golden man sick by the time he reached the stablehouse. Barging in ungracefully, the God accidentally startled a few of the animals, whinnies of protest and stomping hooves echoing off gold and wooden walls. He paid them no mind, though.

"Loki? brother, are you here?" His voice wavered, raspy in emotion as dark eyes scanned every crevice, every shadow for any recognizable form. As the horses relaxed though, a certain sound reached his ears; a sound that wasn't animalistic in the least. Panting. Panting and soft groans of misery, possibly even exhaustion.

Furrowing his eyebrows, the God of Thunder slowly crept to what appeared to be an empty stall, no horse visible from where he stood. But, as he got closer, he was able to peer over the stone wall dividing the pens, and went stalk-still at the sight before him.

His brother was lying, completely bare, on the floor of the stable. His body was trembling, glistening with sweat and other liquids, stray foliage and pieces of hay sticking to his skin, not excluding his dark locks. For the moment, icy eyes hadn't noticed Thor, half-mast and gazing down at the next piece of this puzzling image. Panting shallowly and shaking just as much, was a tiny foal sprawled out on Loki's abdomen and between his legs. The babe was darkly colored, a tad dappled even, and already possessed the characteristics of a grand stallion-for Odin's sake, he had four extra limbs!

Thor must've made a sound, either that, or Loki had just happened to glance up, for their eyes locked; exhausted, confused green with equally puzzled blue. The trickster could only hold the look for a moment before his head fell back with a tired sigh. His face displayed what he was feeling, and it seemed he was preparing for a scolding, or thousands of questions, but Thor did no such thing.

Humming softly and squelching down his confusion and pure worry, his brother walked into the stall with a low hum, gently kneeling beside him in silence. The blond man had, for once, decided prying wasn't in his sibling's best interest. Instead, he opted to gently reach for Loki's head, lifting it up and placing it onto his lap. The God of Mischief blinked slowly in surprise, flickering his gaze up to the elder, only to receive a calm smile and coarse fingers running through his matted hair. For the time being, the stable fell back into silence, and Loki found himself truly appreciating his brother's company.

"…What's his name?" Eventually, curiosity got the better of Thor, and he asked the one question he supposed would do the least amount of damage, doubtful that either of the men could handle any of the others buzzing around in his head.

Glancing back up at his brother, Loki gave a short smile, reaching out a shaky arm in order to pat the elder's chest gently. "Sleipnir." That, apparently was all the energy the trickster had left, for he quickly drifted off to sleep within the loving embrace of his closest family member.

Thor sighed, eyes slowly drifting over to the small, damp horse, whom was looking right back at him with large, reflective black eyes. Reaching out slowly, not wanting to frighten the little one, he made a soft sound of surprise when the foal whinnied pleasantly and met his hand in the middle with an affectionate nuzzle.

He didn't understand, nor was he sure he wanted to know, but his little brother was back, and that's what mattered most.