The birthing chamber had once felt safe.

Warm candlelight flickered across stone walls while soft chanting echoed from the midwives surrounding you. The scent of herbs, sweat, and fresh hay lingered in the air as your newborn daughter, Noxaina, rested carefully against your chest.

For one fragile moment, everything was peaceful.

Then the doors exploded inward.

Thor stood at the entrance, fury burning across his face. Behind him stood gods and warriors alike, their expressions twisted with shock and disgust.

The secret was exposed.

Your children.

Your family with Loki.

Before you could react, Thor ripped Noxaina from your arms.

You screamed.

And then he pushed you from the cliffside halls of Asgard.

Freezing water swallowed you whole.

The current dragged you beneath jagged rocks while panic clawed through your chest. Above the surface, you saw Loki fighting desperately against the gods restraining him, his magic tearing through the air in violent flashes of blue light.

You heard him scream your name.

Then darkness.

When consciousness finally returned, warmth replaced the cold.

Woodsmoke. Blankets. Firelight.

A small cottage.

“You’re awake.”

A deep, calm voice rumbled nearby.

Heimdall sat beside the bed, concern etched heavily across his face as he carefully helped steady you.

“I found you near the frozen river below Asgard’s cliffs. You were barely breathing.”

He hesitated briefly before continuing.

“And Loki… he’s still fighting them.”