*

"Why do we have so many meetings with Alfheim?" Maeve grumbled, refusing to move from underneath her mountain of blankets.

"Because they're high maintenance." Loki sat up, groaned, and flopped back down on the pillows.

"Loki!"

His face, which appeared paler than usual with stress and exhaustion, broke out into a grin. He rubbed his forehead, trying to banish a headache. "To an extent, it's true. We're always in contact with the Light Elves because they're our allies. We are law-bound to help them and they abuse that. From what I've read and been told, different tribes have been fighting again."

"But why is that our problem?" Maeve asked, sleep in her voice. "Why do we have to get out of bed early because they have problems? Why can't they just flip a coin?"

"Because not everyone's as intellectual as you, flower," Loki said drily. "Ugh, my head."

Maeve cracked her eyes open to watch him get out of bed. Instead of using magic, he walked over the closet and actually picked out clothes.

"I told you not to go last night."

"Yes, you did. Did I listen? No." He ran a hand through his hair, examining his appearance in the mirror with obvious distaste. "If it makes you feel better, I hardly remember any of it."

"It doesn't. That kind of makes it worse. You say a lot of stupid things when you drink too much."

"I do not-"

She raised her eyebrows and pulled the blankets around her. "The night before we got married, you kept telling me that I was cute and tiny, and you tried to get me to sleep with you."

Pinching his nose, Loki sighed. "Perhaps I should listen to you more often."

"Perhaps you should. This is why you don't go drinking with Thor the night before we welcome foreign dignitaries, you foolish prince."

"Foolish, hm?" He walked across the room and stole all of her blankets. She groaned and tried to hide underneath her pillow, but he snatched that, too, grinning mischievously.

"Don't be an idiot," she mumbled, yawning "I suppose we should go?"

He sat down and ran a hand through her messy hair. "I wish I could give you a different answer."

Sighing, Maeve got out of bed and walked over to her closet, where she picked out a simple white dress with draping sleeves and green trim. She sat in front of the mirror and stared at her reflection, a frown playing on her lips.

"Something wrong, love?" Loki put his hands on her shoulders and bent to peck her on the cheek.

"I look terrible," she muttered. All she could see were her imperfections. The night before, she'd gotten out of bed four times to throw up, and she could barely sleep in between those times. Her face looked abnormally pale and dark bags hung under her eyes. On top of that, she still felt nauseous.

"No, you don't."

"I look terrible," she repeated, shaking her head. "And I feel terrible, too."

Loki took her hand in his and squeezed it a few times. "You're beautiful, my dear."

"And you're a well-known liar."

"Really, love, do you think I'd lie to you? You were always the best at catching me, anyway." He knelt down next to her chair and looked up at her, emerald eyes deep. "I don't lie to you, Maeve. You're beautiful. If anyone disputes that, then they're blind."

She giggled as he kissed her hands. "You're amazing. And surprisingly charming for a hungover man."

"Only the best for the mother of my children," he murmured, placing his hand on her stomach as he kissed her. "You are my queen, after all."

"We can't hide them much longer," Maeve whispered. Her hands also went to her belly and she rubbed her bump comfortingly. She couldn't believe how big she'd gotten in such a short span of time. If it was possible, Loki had become even more protective of her since she started showing, even though her outfits kept her from showing her condition to anyone else. "Katla's had to get pretty creative with my dresses."

"She's done a fantastic job. You always look positively ravishing."

Maeve laughed and reached for her makeup. "That's enough of that. We've got things to do."

*

"All right. We need to establish some ground rules. The Light Elves are very easily offended. Don't say anything risky." Maeve looked back and forth between her husband and her brother-in-law. They stood outside of the throne room, where the delegations from Alfheim waited inside. "Thor, you in there?"

Her older brother-in-law was leaning against a golden pillar, rubbing his forehead repetitively. "Yes," he responded with a light groan.

"You two get what you deserve," Maeve said with a smirk. "Maybe you shouldn't have been out drinking that late."

"My darling, do not make us feel worse about it," Loki grumbled, but a glint in his eye told her that he wasn't mad.

Maeve knew she had to leave, but she hesitated. It didn't seem like a good idea to leave these two alone. "Are you sure that you don't want me with you? I know I'm supposed to be in the village today, but I can-"

"Maeve, we will be fine," Thor said with a yawn. "You worry too much, little sister."

"Sometimes, her worry is justified," Loki said warmly. He wrapped an arm around her waist. "But where would we be without her?"

"Stop flattering me. Save your flattery for the Light Elves. You're running on limited charm today as it is." Maeve winked at him. "This should be fun."

"Indeed."

"Don't say anything stupid. I'd better get going. I'll see you two later on?"

Loki nodded and kissed her on the cheek. "Careful, wife."

"As always, husband."

Maeve started off down the hall while the princes entered the throne room. About halfway to the door, an emerald cloak appeared around her shoulders. Smiling, she snuggled into it and kept walking. The fact that he'd been feeling low on magic and still did that made her feel more loved than ever.

Servants and maids scuttled around, placing the final touches on the halls for the Solstice. Delicate glass snowflakes and lit torches adorned the walls. While all of this looked beautiful, Maeve's favorite part was the holly plants adorning doorways and peeping out of vases. The red berries brightened as she passed. She noticed a young maid struggling to carry a potted evergreen tree, so she rushed over.

"Here, let me help."

The maid glanced up, her brown eyes startled. "Oh, Your Highness!" She nearly dropped the plant to sink into a curtsy.

"You don't need to do that," Maeve said hastily. They weren't half as formal in Vanaheim, except around Frey, and such formalities made her uncomfortable. "That looks heavy. Do you need any help carrying it?"

"Oh, no, no!" The maid shook her head. "I've just been carrying it across the entire palace, and I was tired. It's not so bad, Your Highness."

"Are you sure? I promise that I don't mind-"

"I'm very sure. You don't need to be doing a maid's work, Your Highness," she insisted, properly flustered. "You don't need to strain yourself on my behalf."

Maeve frowned, then tucked a blonde curl behind her ear. "All right. If you're sure."

"I am. Have a good day, Your Highness." She bobbed another curtsey, then lifted the plant with effort and started to struggle with it all over again.

The princess walked on, slightly unnerved by the exchange that had just occurred. Something about it just didn't seem... right. However, she pushed it out of her mind and continued on her way to the stables.

It was common knowledge that out of everyone in the royal family, the peasants favored Maeve. Odin couldn't understand why, but he was too blind to see the obvious. She was simply humbler than the rest of them. She didn't treat the villagers as beneath her and didn't put on any fancy airs around them. Her soft and merciful nature endeared her to all she came across.

When she arrived in the village, two men came out to meet her. She'd become familiar with the village leaders ever since Odin had fallen into the Odinsleep, and she had a distinct feeling that they liked her better. They were both several hundred years older than her, yet they never attempted to make her feel foolish or to discredit her ideas because she was a princess.

"Welcome back, Your Highness," Eirik, one of the men, greeted. He offered a hand to help her down, and she accepted it, dismounting from Ingrid with ease. "I must admit, we didn't expect you today."

"Why not? I always come on this day of the week." A cold wind whipped around them, and Maeve pulled Loki's cloak more tightly around herself.

Hagen scratched his red beard and chuckled. "Yes, but it is the Solstice. I would have thought that preparations for your celebration matter more."

"Nonsense. The wellbeing of our people matters more than a silly holiday."

Eirik looked at her with approval in his expression. "You are a blessing, Princess. Before you, no one made sure that we were this well taken care of."

"You should be taken care of," Maeve insisted. Much as she tried to hide it, her shivering persisted, but luckily for her, the men noticed it.

"Let us go inside. The weather is unforgiving," Hagen said. He offered her an arm, and she accepted it.

"Winters weren't so harsh in Vanaheim. I can't say I appreciate them here." Maeve laughed a little as they ducked into a small pub. A roaring fire warmed the dark yet cozy room.

"It has been many years since an Asgardian winter has been this harsh." Hagen grinned and pulled out a chair for her, gesturing politely. Only when she was seated did the two men take their own seats. "Gunhild, the princess is here!"

"Is she? Why is she wasting time listening to an oaf like you?"

Hagen rolled his eyes. "You're lucky I love you!" He called back.

Maeve laughed. Hagen and Gunhild owned the pub, and it was obvious to her how much in love they were, even after years and years of marriage. Gunhild, with her frizzy red hair and fiery temper, was Maeve's favorite person that she'd met in the village. She also was born in Vanaheim, but fled the realm with her mother as a little girl because of invaders.

Gunhild bustled out of the kitchen doors a few seconds later, carrying a tray with four drinks. She set them down, then took a seat herself.

"Good morning, Your Highness," she greeted, her voice accented with the twang of Vanaheim's Lakeland District.

Maeve waved. "Hello, Gunhild."

"I had the pleasure of seeing your husband last night," she commented as she took a sip of her drink. "I wondered if you were aware."

"I am." Maeve's lips curved into a smile. "I hope he didn't say anything too... much."

"None of them hold alcohol well, that's for sure." Gunhild chuckled loudly. "But it's always entertaining to watch, and they tip well."

"Enough drinking talk," Eirik said, although he laughed, too. "Princess, I have to say, we are not in need of anything from the palace at this moment."

"Are you sure? We have plenty of resources to share, let me assure you."

Maeve picked up her cup apprehensively, as the others were obviously drinking alcohol, but hers contained herbal tea. While it smelled and tasted delicious, her suspicion grew. Every other time she'd visited the village, she had to refuse alcohol.

"As we explained before, you've kept us well taken care of," Hagen said. "We have food, blankets, and happiness - what else more could we need?"

"I'm glad to hear it." Maeve brushed her thumb over her soul mark, just to let Loki know she was thinking of him. A few seconds later, she felt a flare of warmth on her wrist as he reciprocated the action. A smile stretched across her face.

"Your Highness," Eirik said as he stood, "because we have no other business to discuss, I hope you will not mind if Hagen and I take our leave. We must help prepare for our own festivities tonight."

Maeve nodded, letting them both kiss her hand. "Happy Solstice. Until next time!"

"Until next time," Hagen said, giving her a warm smile. "And my sincerest congratulations, by the way."

What?

Once the men were gone, Gunhild rolled her eyes. "Good riddance. They're a proper bore sometimes, men are."

"Is it inappropriate to ask who was drinking with my husband last night?"

Gunhild burst into wheezing laughter. "Your Highness, you are nothing like any royal I've ever met."

"Come on! I want to know!" She begged, giggling like a little girl.

"Well, it went something like this." Gunhild leaned back on her chair, causing the wood to strain under her weight. "Around sundown last night, I heard a group come in. I come out of the kitchen, it's both princes and the Warriors Three. They're all laughing, which leads me to believe that my place isn't the first one they visited, and they stay for hours until a fierce-looking woman walks in, pays for their drinks, and drags them out by force."

Atta girl, Sif. "Thanks for putting up with them. You should have heard him this morning, complaining about his head."

"Like I said, it's my pleasure. It's rather funny sometimes."

Maeve glanced out the window and watched the snow swirl around. "I suppose I should be getting back to the palace. It's the darkest day of the year, after all."

"Watch yourself, Princess. Bandits lurk at night, and especially in your condition, you shouldn't be traveling by yourself."

Maeve blinked. Especially in your condition. "I'm sorry?"

"I haven't told anyone, of course, because I'm sure it was a drunken slip of the tongue, but half the town was in the pub last night and word moves fast." Gunhild gave the princess a reassuring smile and patted her hand. Unlike Maeve's, it was rough and calloused.

"Everyone- everyone knows?" Maeve's voice jumped up an octave, and her hand curled around her stomach. "Really?"

"Indeed. The fact that there will be new princes or princesses running around Asgard in a few months is quite exciting. We are all-" Gunhild leaned in conspiratorially. "We are all hoping this means that you and your husband will ascend the throne in the near future."

Maeve blushed furiously and looked down at her tea. "I don't... I don't really know about that..."

"Nonsense. The two of you compliment each other well, all of us see it."

"Um, I really ought to be going." Maeve stood, then pulled her hood up over her curls. "Thank you for the tea, Gunhild. It was delicious."

Gunhild also stood and walked her to the door. "Safe travels, Princess. Enjoy the celebrations."

Maeve walked through the dark village. She braced herself as the winds came, but enough torches were lit for the Solstice to keep her slightly warm. Many thoughts whirred through her mind, but only one stood out.

I could kill them.

"It's the princess!"

"Hi!"

"You're back!"

"Mama was right, it is you!"

As confused and worried as Maeve felt, she couldn't help smiling when she saw the children of the village tripping over themselves to greet her. She crouched down and gave them all hugs.

"Is it true?"

Maeve glanced at the voice who asked that, a brunette girl with braids. "Is what true?" She asked, even though she had a feeling she knew the answer.

"Papa says that you're going to have babies!"

I'm going to be the first ever pregnant princess to murder her husband.

Maeve looked back and forth between all of those hopeful little faces. Deep down, she knew there was no point denying it. Everyone already knew, anyway.

With a slight smile, she nodded, and the chattering started all over again.

"Oh!"

"Wow!"

"Are you excited?"

"I am excited," Maeve said, finally warming up to the fact that people knew her secret. "So is Prince Loki. It's a wonderful thing. In a few months, we'll have a family of our own."

"That's so cool!"

Maeve smiled. "It is," she agreed. "But I really must be getting back, or he'll worry about me."

When she did get back to the palace, Maeve wasted no time. She avoided talking with anyone, dodging everyone from servants to family to guards to friends. She didn't stop until she reached the throne room, where she pushed open the doors without hesitation.

"Loki, I- what are you two doing in her alone?"

She had been prepared to interrupt a diplomatic meeting with no grace whatsoever. Instead, she found only Loki and Thor, both of which looked worse for the wear. Loki had been sitting on his throne, head in his hands, while Thor couldn't seem to stop pacing. Both of their heads snapped up at her entrance.

"What are you doing here?" Loki asked worriedly. He walked over to meet her. "You aren't supposed to be back for hours!"

"They didn't need me for long," she replied. "And we need to talk."

"Talk?"

"Yes, talk. You too, Thor."

The blond prince had been trying to leave as quietly as possible to give the couple space, but at her words, he walks back down the steps.

Maeve crosses her arms and looked back and forth between the two. "Do either of you remember anything that happened last night?"

"It's all rather blurry, flower," Loki admitted. At least he looks ashamed.

Thor scratched the back of his neck. "Sif yelled at me."

Maeve rolled her eyes. "According to the villagers, you two spilled quite a bit."

"Like what?" Thor asked.

"Like the fact that I'm pregnant."

The effect was instantaneous: Loki's emerald eyes widened. His face drained of all color. Thor just stared, horrified of the tiny fury his sister-in-law held in her eyes.

"Maeve, I'm so sorry-"

"We didn't mean to, flower-"

"It was the alcohol talking-"

"It was probably Thor-"

"Please! I've seen you drunk, no one can shut you up-"

"I don't care! It happened!" Maeve yelled, just to be heard over them. "There are rumors about Loki and I taking the throne swirling around now, so we've got to deal with that, too! And why do you look so guilty? What happened before I came in?"

Loki pinched the bridge of his nose. "This may or may not be the best time to say that we might have lost the alliance with Alfheim."