“Don’t go,” his daughter pleaded. “Don’t leave me pappa!”

That one word, pappa, broke him all over again. Loki turned back to Akira, his eyes full of sorrow.

“Min kjære, I must go,” he whispered brokenly. “I will see you again. Have faith, min kjære. Have faith in your gods. We will always look after you.”

He stooped and pressed a lingering kiss to her brow. He knew full well that until she discovered the truth, he could not keep entering her dreams. He had already been close to telling her who he was multiple times. It was getting harder and harder for him to leave her dreams too. He turned from her before she could see the single tear he couldn’t stop silently slip down his cheek. He made his way out of the dream and back to reality.

Loki woke to a howling wind rattling the windows of his cabin. A blizzard had rolled in overnight blanketing everything in white. Conditions outside were the worst he’d ever seen. He threw another log on the fire in the hearth and made his way to the kitchen. He filled the percalator with water and set it on the stove to heat up. While he waited for the water to boil, he rummaged around for a mug to use. Once he laid hands on a mug he pulled tea leaves from the cabinet and filled the basket in the percalator before the water began to boil. Replacing the lid on the pot, he moved to the small table that sat in the corner of the room. He burried his head in his hands and for the second time in less than an hour, he wept. Akira’s use of the word pappa, even subconsciously, had rent his heart in two. How could he have forgotten that Seona had given him a child? It seemed he had wiped more than just her memory that night.

Loki stood and passed the now sleeping Seona to Loxley.

“Take care of her,” he managed to choke out.

Loxley had cocked his head to the side.

“Please love that child as if it were your own,” he sobbed quietly.

“I never knew a god could cry,” Loxley whispered.

Loki looked up at him in surprise. How did this mortal know he was a god?

“You’re wondering how I knew?” he asked.

Loki nodded in stunned silence.

“I grew up in the Empire and many of us still practice the old ways and follow the old gods, myself included,” Loxley told him. “Though none of my ancestors ever had a chance to meet her, they followed Freyja with singular devotion. That’s not to say they don’t respect Odin and the others. They don’t worship the others with as much devotion as they do Freyja. She has been our protector for many generations.” He chuckled. “My family would not believe that I was able to meet one of our gods. I will honor your wishes, Loki. I had no intention of leaving her, even though the child she carries is not mine. I will love your child like she were my own and she will always believe I am her father. She will not know of her heritage, not until you and Seona are comfortable with her knowing.”

“Thank you,” Loki’s voice broke on the words.

“Do not thank me,” Loxley told him.

Loki’s eyes widened startled.

“Whyever not?”

“You should be taking responsibility for your actions but you cannot simply because of who you are,” Loxley spat. “So I will take responsibility for your actions and I will deal with the fallout and the reprocussions for them. I am nothing but your scapegoat! Seona may not remember you because of what you just did, yes I know you wiped yourself from her memories, but I most certainly will. I will not forgive you for causing her so much torment and grief. Your child will never know who you are and you will have to live eternity knowing that.”

“I tried to stop her that night,” he whispered. “I knew my father would not stand for me fraternizing with humans but I couldn’t help but be drawn in by her. I didn’t think myself capable of love; neither did my father. When I met her, my entire life changed. I would give up everything I have in Asgard to stay here and love her like she deserves. Asgard is no longer my home. It has become my prison and my father is my warden. I cannot escape, no matter how much I love her or the child she carries. Were my father to discover that this child is mine, he would do everything he could to kill it. My only option is to return. If I return to Asgard, even heartbroken by this farce, it will protect all of you from his wrath. Believe me, his wrath is not something any of you would survive. I will protect her and this child, even if it means returning to my prison. My heart may always belong to her and the child we have but I know I must protect them from my father. I beg you, take care of them. Do not do this simply because I’m begging you. Take care of them because you care about Seona. Don’t tell me you don’t care for her. I saw the way you looked at her that day in the Alhambra. She intrigued you enough that you sought her out. She considered you a friend up until recently, that I know. Hate me all you want for everything I’ve put her through but don’t take that out on her or the child.”

“I wouldn’t do that to either one of them,” Loxley grumbled. “The doctor said she’s having a girl.”

Loki looked at him in surprise. Why was Loxley telling him this?

“Regardless of my feelings about you, you are her father and her father should be able to name her,” Loxley told him. “Think of it as your final gift to her.”

Loki stared at the man in front of him. This human, who was not hiding his obvious dislike of him as a god or a person, was giving him the chance to name his child. To give her one final gift, before he left her and her mother forever. For the life of him, Loki couldn’t figure out why Loxley would do something like this. He had done nothing to earn the right to name the child Seona carried aside from providing her with half of her genetic code. He could never be a part of his child’s life, so what difference did it make if he named her or not? He would never see her in her lifetime. So why? Why? Why give her a name if he couldn’t even watch her grow up? He’d never be able to see the woman she’d become. So why give her a name? Why not let her be a faceless, nameless child to him?

“You’re probably wondering why should you name her,” Loxley interrupted his train of thought. “Even though you’ll never be able to see the woman she’s going to become, that doesn’t negate the fact that you are her father. You are protecting her by giving her and her mother up. She may never know who you are personally but her name will be the only piece of you she will ever have. Would you deny her that single, tiny piece no matter how insignificant it may seem?”

Loki shook his head at Loxley’s question. He couldn’t deny his daughter the only piece of him she’d ever have.

“Akira,” he whispered turning away from the man who would raise his daughter. “Her name will be Akira. If she is anything like her mother, the name will suit her well.”

“Akira,” Loxley said. “Why Akira?”

“It means bright and intelligent in Japanese,” Loki told him as he made his way towards the exit. “I can only hope she lives up to the name.”

Little did he know how right he was.

Loki was jarred from the memory by the whistle of the percalator. He stood and pulled it from the stove, turning off the burner as he turned and poured the tea into his mug. The smell of puerin gold wafted up from the mug and wrapped around him. He couldn’t drink any other tea nowadays, even if it brought back memories of happier times.