Just Relax

A young boy sits in his grandfather's lap, holding a teddy bear that's seen better days. "I remember it so clearly," the grandfather smiles, blind eyes seeming to stare at the wall across from him. The little boy, Andrew, didn't care—he knew his grandfather could use his other senses better than most. "It was the first time your grandmother had been to my home, a few months before your mother was born…"

Loki watches Sasha from his favorite chair, smiling at the awestruck look on her face. This is her first visit to Asgard and he could tell that, if nothing else, the beauty would leave an impression that she wouldn't soon forget. "Do you like it," he asks, closing his book and laying it on the table beside him. Sasha smiles as she turns to face him, one hand gently resting on her swollen belly and rubbing small circles.

"It's all so beautiful," she breathes with an excited air about her," kind of hard to take it all in." Loki chuckles and holds out a hand for her to take so that he can escort her to dinner where she'll be formally introduced to his parents and older brother—a bit nervous that Thor would do something to embarrass Loki. "Where are we going?"

"Dinner awaits, Sasha."

"Um, shouldn't I change into something more—"He silences her with a finger on her lips and a grin lighting up his pale face. He's done that much more often since I told him I was pregnant, Sasha muses silently to herself, reluctantly following Loki to the dining room. The royal family, the Warriors Three, and Sif all stand when Loki and Sasha enter; Fandral getting a devious look on his face that quickly vanishes when Sif sends him a glare and an elbow to the ribs.

"Prince Loki and his wife, Lady Sasha of Midgard," a man announces before disappearing once more. Sasha develops a blush when all eyes land on her, trying to hide behind a much more confidant Loki. Frigga comes forward with a warm smile, resting a hand on Sasha's belly.

"You're going to have many children," Loki's mother tells the young woman softly, kissing her cheek before returning to the Allfather's side. The young couple approaches the group fully, Sasha nervously gripping Loki's arm. "Boys," Frigga states firmly," I expect all of you to be on your best behavior around Sasha and if I hear any differently you'll have me to deal with." Sasha and Loki both laugh when Thor's confidant smirk falters slightly, earning a kind smile from the Allfather. "Now, dinner will be out on the patio."

Sasha's breath was taken away as the Asgardian night surrounds her, the dark sky seeming to reflect the gold roofs of the houses below and there were no air planes or honking cars to fill the night with unnecessary and unwanted noise; it was all more perfect than she could have ever imagined was possibly real. The Asgardians themselves were a beautiful race—golden skin, flowing hair that was never out of place, impossibly strong, and voices akin to the richest silk.

"She never wanted that summer to end," the grandfather tells Andrew," she thought it was unforgettable and too perfect for any picture or tales to describe." Andrew nods with wide green eyes, the same color his grandfather's used to be before a fight with Thanos that he barely survived. "What do you think, Andrew; is Asgard as amazing as my wife thought or did she forget after all?"

"It's great here, grandfather," Andrew answers honestly, staring up at his grandfather with a smile. The old grandfather traces his fingers across a page in the sketch book he had sitting precariously on the arm of his chair with a smile of his own—having memorized the picture long ago. There was a lake with the bluest water he'd ever seen the silhouettes of two people dancing next to a roaring fire; it was the last picture Sasha had drawn before she passed away and he cherished more than any of his other possessions.

"Yes, she thought so too."