Lesser Gods

So many of these days passed, and Raeyn was happy. Not to mention, so was Loki, which made for a happy household for Elske. Though the kitten had been fed well these past few weeks living in Stark Tower, it was quite skinny from its days skirting through the alleyways. It had been, in fact, Loki that brought the tiny creature home from a tour of the Middle East — it had apparently been found in India, though he admitted he did not really remember. He brought it back to his love because, though he tried, he could not leave the injured, suffering, baby creature on its own. And even though he was a great sorcerer, he could not heal it.

Loki had rested the grey ball of fur on one of Stark’s old work tables, holding the struggling kitten down. Raeyn gave a sad smile as she rested a hand gingerly on the wound in its middle.

“There is something lodged in there,” Loki had told her as soon as he came home, not making any time for any other introductions or hellos at all.

There was a moment of silence as Raeyn slowly pressed her hand closer to the wound. “You tried to dissolve it into the bloodstream, did you not?”

Loki nodded. “It seems to have only made it worse,” he replied, motioning to the swelling and discoloration.

Raeyn nodded grimly. “Though I assume this cut was only from a fight, something toxic got its way into the wound. I’m going to have to remove it,” she said with a grimace.

It had taken quite some time. Loki eventually lulled the kitten to sleep with his own sorcery, to save it from the pain it would have otherwise been going through.

Finally, a tiny shard flew into Raeyn’s poised fingers. She picked it up between her thumb and forefinger’s fingernails to look at it, and then pass it to Loki.

“What Midgardian stone is this?” he finally asked, setting it down on the table with a small click.

Raeyn gave a small snort. “It’s not a stone, it’s a shard of a broken battery. It must have still had chemicals coating it. Though I cleansed its blood, I would keep it asleep for a few more days to finish the healing process.”

Loki nodded, and carried the kitten back to the living area and finding an old pillow and blanket for it.

“What should we name it?” Raeyn had asked as she tucked the cloth around its tiny frame.

“Name it?” asked Loki incredulously.

“Well we are keeping it,” Raeyn said as if it were the obvious before looking at Loki’s unhappy expression. “We are keeping it, right?” she pouted.

His expression had softened into a smile. “I simply do not want to have to share your love with any other living creature,” he said, giving her a quick kiss.

“Never!” Raeyn breathed in return, curling her hand through his hair before kissing him once more. “Welcome home, by the way.”

Raeyn set the book down suddenly, which created such a noise that Elske leapt off Raeyn’s lap and scampered away. Raeyn, however, had not noticed and was quickly making her way to the bathroom, where she heaved up her breakfast. Wiping her mouth with one of the towels, she sat next to the toilet for the longest time. Though she had heard many times, and even witnessed the act of “throwing up,” she had never once had to endure it. Truly, it was more awful than she could have imagined. It tasted so much worse coming back up. Even at the thought of it, Raeyn pulled her hair back once more to heave what remained, moments before, in her stomach. Why was this happening? Was there something truly sour in the breakfast she had made this morning? Hopefully Loki was not experiencing this as well, for she wished nothing this nauseating on anyone. She spat, before grabbing the edge of the sink and pulling herself up once more. She wandered out of the bathroom, still pondering why on earth she would be so sick, now of all times, and grabbed a bottle of whiskey. She took a good mouthful, swishing it around, and then wandered back to the bathroom to spit it back out into the sink. She did this several times before she was finally happy that her mouth was clean.

She set the bottle down with a frustrated clang and looked at herself in the mirror.

Forget why an Asgardian could get a stomach illness, she told herself. Why do Midgardians get them? Food… possibly, but unlikely. Virus? Nearly impossible. As the list of possibilities grew ever longer and longer and the list of answers or even likely answers was still nonexistent, Raeyn began to fiddle with the bottle of whiskey once more. Without a thought about it, she began to twiddle it between her hands before eventually picking it up and rolling it though her hands.

Oh, wait! The motion of her hands quickly stopped as she brightened up at the first idea of something plausible. Midgardian women sometimes become sick while on their period. I have not been on my period for a while now, so perhaps… How long had it been…?

Raeyn’s jade eyes quickly became saucers as she looked up at her own reflection. The glass bottle slipped out of her fingers, and because her thoughts were obviously elsewhere, she did not catch it before it crashed to the floor and shattered into a thousand tiny pieces. However, by then she had turned and fled from the restroom, running faster than her dainty flats wanted her to. Because of this, she found herself skidding over the tile quite like little Elske as she dashed for the calendar.

She nearly skid right into the counter on which the calendar was taped, but she paid no mind. The moment it was in arm’s reach, it was in her hands and held up to her face. With trembling hands, she flipped to the past month and pinpointed the small box with the even smaller red x in it. The date marking that particular box sent her into such a shock that her legs finally gave out, and she sank to the kitchen floor. Remembering to breathe, her head hit the cupboards behind her with a dull thud. The only emotion running through her at the moment was shock — breath-catching, heart-stopping shock that lacked any happiness, worry, dread, or any other emotion that was frequently tied to such a discovery.

Two weeks. Two weeks, nearly three, that Raeyn was late and she had not even noticed. She rested her hand gently on her abdomen as the paper calendar slipped out of her fingers and she stared out the window dazedly.