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“Dad!”
“Mom!”
“Not even dawn, and already it begins,” Thor mumbles, half into Jane’s hair, half into the pillow.
“I got them yesterday, it’s your turn,” Jane says, pulling the blankets from his side of the bed to expose him to the cold.
“You are ruthless, hjarta,” he chuckles, trying to take the blankets back as Jane holds firm.
“And you’re the one with the magic hammer, so go quell that uprising,” she retorts with a smirk.
Thor places a kiss at the hollow of her throat. “Don’t pretend you couldn’t wield it if you wanted to.”
“Why would I want to?” Jane grins, sitting up. “Then I’d lose my best excuse for making you do all the hard parenting stuff. Well, almost all of it.” She rubs her stomach with a mix of pride and resignation. “I cannot believe I’m going to have another set of twins, how have I not died in childbirth yet?”
“Because you know I would never let that happen to you,” he says, moving her hand aside to give her stomach a kiss. “Did she mention—”
“One of each. We are naming these two Luke and Leia, and you cannot stop me.”
“Jane, we’ve been through this—”
“I’m going to have given you five kids once these two get out of me, Thor Odinson. I think I deserve a say in naming them.”
“You named Astrid.”
“Because you weren’t there! Also, I’m way better at it, Móði and Magni are just mean names to give tiny little babies!”
“DADDY!”
Jane huffs, pushing him aside with the rest of the covers. “I’m going to go throw up last night’s dinner, and when I get back, I would like to know that those three little monsters are wrangled.”
“Don’t pretend you don’t love them, Jane Foster.”
“Oh, I love them, but I also love their dad, so my judgment’s kind of impaired.” Jane shoves her feet in her slippers and shuffles into the bathroom as the active little half-aliens inside kick up the contents of her stomach. “Chestbursters would be preferable,” she grumbles to her stomach, pushing back her hair. When she got back into the bedroom, Thor has one of each of the boys stuck under his arms, and Astrid is clinging to his back like a monkey. “This is not what I meant by wrangling,” Jane laughs.
“I’m the King of Asgard now!” Astrid declares, smiling so widely that she shows off her missing teeth. Swinging her feet, she sends them all toppling onto the bed. “Daddy’s anguished!”
“I think you mean vanquished, honey,” Jane corrects her seven-year-old. “Did your aunties teach you that?”
“Uh-huh!” Astrid beams.
“Okay, well, get off your daddy before he crushes your brothers,” Jane gently pries her daughter from Thor’s back. “And prove I’m right, Luke and Leia would be cool names for your new brother and sister, wouldn’t they?”
“But Luke and Leia’s mommy dies!” Magni points out as he wriggles out from under Thor.
“Mommy, don’t die!” Móði gasps, following his brother.
“You really think after everything that’s happened to us, your daddy would let me?” Jane asks, sitting on the bed and pulling all three of her kids into a hug. “Besides, haven’t I taught you that Padmé died because Emperor Palpatine drained her life force?”
“Multiple times, hjarta,” Thor chuckles. “Your fascination with that saga is astounding.”
“It’s a pop culture milestone, and I stand by every installment,” Jane says firmly. “Besides, I don’t hear you offering any other—”
"Torunn and Erik," he cuts her off with a smile. "You were saying?"
"I like that," Móði says.
"Me too," agrees Magni.
"Torunn, huh?" Jane repeats dryly. "Seems pretty egomaniacal of you, Thor."
"I'm not hearing any objections to Erik," Thor counters smugly.
“If they're a package deal, no way. We are not calling her Torunn. Maybe I’ll let you negotiate me down to Victoria, and we can call her Tori."
“It’s three votes for, and Astrid hasn’t decided yet,” Thor pointed out. “We have the democratic majority.”
“Oh, please, the twins count as one vote, and you know it,” Jane scoffed. “Astrid, come on, don’t let me down.”
“AUNTIE BRYNN! AUNTIE SIF!” Astrid screams, jumping off the bed and running out of the room. Thor laughs and kisses Jane’s forehead.
“I will get her, see about our breakfast, and then figure out how I am going to spend the next seven months convincing you that I’m right,” he informs her.
“You are somehow simultaneously the best and worst husband ever.”
“So long as I am your husband, I’ll take it,” he tells her with a grin. Jane responds by throwing a pillow at his head.