Chapter Text
"It’s definitely your turn."
"I’m quite certain I was up with her the last time."
"No, that was me. She wanted to be fed."
"Maybe she wants to be fed again, so it would be ridiculous for both of us to get up."
"I am not getting out of bed until I know for sure it’s not a dirty diaper."
"Jane-"
"Nope. My boobs, my rules. You go."
With a groan, Thor tossed his covers off and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He stood, wavering on his feet a moment from being so abruptly pulled from his sleep by the sound of their daughter from the monitor.
His gaze turned to his wife, whose light snore had picked up seconds after she’d finished her sentence.
He remembered the advice given to them by his mother after their daughter had been born and the queen had come to Midgard to see them. It was a sight that twisted Thor’s heart in the best kind of way when he saw his mother holding his child. Appreciate them while they’re small, she’d said, because before you know it, they’ll be grown. That was promptly followed by a strong, But dear, I don’t know how you and Jane will get any sleep without maids tending to her. You should bring her to Asgard, at least until she can sleep through the night.
But the both of them had been rather insistent on doing this themselves. As he made the short walk to the nursery, he remembered Jane’s strength in her opinions. Many of the Asgardian Court ladies had made it no secret they didn’t approve of the princess being born on Midgard, or being partially raised on Midgard. Jane’s eating of Indunn’s apples had quieted most of the complaints about the child being a ‘half-breed.’ (Jane’s face when she heard that had been terrifying. Thor hoped he would never be the focus of it.) Nearly all parents on Midgard do it, she’d said, and I’m sure if your heads weren’t so far up your asses you’d see that there are Asgardians who do it as well. That was the day those in the Court had stopped messing with the Royal Consort Lady Jane of the house of Foster of Midgard.
He was so proud of her.
Speaking of his other favorite girl… “No need for tears now, my sweet,” he murmured, picking her up.
When she was born, he had been terrified of holding her. She was so tiny, her fingers and arms and legs and body so delicate.
She carried his golden hair and blue eyes. Thor hoped she would grow to be as beautiful as her mother. It figures, Jane had joked, I spend all those months puking and peeing every five minutes and then 10 hours of labor later she pops out looking just like you.
It was almost easy for him to hold her in one hand, but he didn’t quite have the courage to do that just yet.
Holding her to his chest, feeling her fluttery heartbeat and little puffs of breath against his skin, he checked her diaper and found it dry and empty.
He sighed. Jane wasn’t going to be very happy.
"Y’know, you holding a baby is really a turn-on," came a sleepy voice from the doorway. Jane walked up to his side, gave his shoulder a peck in greeting.
Their daughter had ceased her loud crying at it had turned into small whimpers. Thor replied, “You really are miraculous at this.”
She shrugged. “I thought that was her hungry cry. She usually just whimpers like that when she knows the milk truck is nearby,” Jane said, chuckling at her own joke. “Just lemme get situated and you can hand her over, okay?”
Jane had taken to wearing Thor’s shirts to bed since they were huge on her tiny frame and it was easier for her to feed their daughter than just wearing plain old pajamas.
Jane settled herself on the widow seat, adjusting her shirt. Thor placed her in Jane’s arms before settling down beside her on the seat that was large enough for the two of them.
"It’s okay, Thor. Go back to bed."
He was beyond sleepy. Following Jane’s command sounded like the most wonderful thing in the world to him. Instead, he responded quietly, “No, I think I’ll stay here.” He shifted so that Jane could lie back against his chest and he could wrap his arms around her middle. Their height difference made it easy to look upon both Jane and his daughter.
Jane sighed in resignation, relaxing back into his hold, “Okay.”
Only the muted sounds of their daughter eating and their quiet breathing filled the air.