Son of Mischief (Loki/Asgard Fanfiction - Selig's Story)

Chapter Fifty-Eight

Selig rolled over and opened his eyes. Celia was sound asleep beside him, curled on her side, her back to him, one arm tucked up beneath her head, her mane of wild corkscrew curls spilling across the pillows between them. Damn, she was so beautiful. She truly did take his breath away. He wasn't lying, nor was he exaggerating.

And now she was his.

As he stretched, the unfamiliar weight of the heavy ring on his hand made him smile. How long would it take, before he no longer noticed that weight? He had no idea, since he rarely wore jewelry of any sort.

His gaze wandered back to Celia. His wife.

Without thinking, he reached down and smoothed her hair away from her cheek. She sighed in her sleep, snuggling deeper into the pillow, reminding him of how she looked that morning after her prom, when he awoke to find her next to him.

Only this time, there was no sense of alarm, no rising panic. This time, he was exactly where he wanted to be, exactly where he was meant to be.

He inched a little closer, easing his arm about her waist, letting his hand come to rest against her belly. The baby moved, a solid thump meeting his palm. Selig smiled as he brushed his thumb over the smaller lump that had to be the foot that just kicked him. "Shhh, little man," he whispered as the foot went still. "Let Mommy sleep."

Their son went quiet and Selig resumed his gentle strokes over Celia's belly. Six months ago, he'd have laughed at anyone who suggested that not only would he be a husband, but a father as well. Six months ago, if he was lucky, he'd know the name of the woman he'd gone to bed with the previous night.

But now, he could honestly say everything was just as it should be and he was never as happy, as content, as he was at that moment. He had everything he could ever hope to want. That emptiness inside him, the one that drove him from one bed to the next, was gone. Celia was the only one he needed and he thanked the gods every day that she gave him that second chance.

"Sel?" Celia's voice rose softly and he gazed down to find her blinking sleep from her eyes.

"I'm right here, Ce," he murmured, tugging her against his chest. "What's the matter?"

She shook her head, rubbing one eye. "I was dreaming, I guess... I woke up and I was home, in Point Pleasant."

"It was only a dream, sweetheart," he said, kissing her temple. "As you can see, I'm right here and you're still in Asgard."

A slow, sleepy smile stole over her face. "Thank God."

He laughed softly. "Did Junior wake you?"

"Junior?"

"I don't know what else to call him." He smoothed her hair away from her face. "So he's Junior for now."

"Do you want to talk names?" she asked, rolling onto her back to smile up at him. That lasted a few seconds, then she exhaled heavily and dragged herself upright. "I can't breathe when I lay on my back any more."

He rolled onto his stomach and smiled up at her. "You're bigger today, beautiful girl. I think that pregnancy test you did on Midgard might have been wrong. It probably wasn't designed to detect a Jötunn baby."

"Oh, don't say that, Sel. I have too much to do before Junior arrives."

"I'm not saying it was, but it's possible."

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Do you want to name him Selig?"

He shook his head. "No. Let's give him his own name, just as my parents gave me my own name." He shifted, sitting up beside her. Kissing the top of her head, he said, "Are there any names in particular you like?"