Greetings.
As you may guess I've never written for this fandom before. I have three reasons for writing this fic: Firstly, I read a piece of Norse mythology that made me wonder. Secondly, I wanted to get away from the utterly toothless Loki sometimes found in Marvel fanfic, more sarcastic than psychopathic. Thirdly, I've worked on sheep farms over lambing for the past two years. This gave me more cause to wonder at the mechanics of this piece of mythology.
I'm working with the idea that Loki can physically change the form of his body rather than casting illusions.
This is set the spring after the walls of Asgard were (nearly) completed.
Rated at a K+ for some stuff that may gross out some people, a couple of forays in to vulgarity and creepiness.
Loki strode in to the night air, thick with the scent of pine. The sounds of the feasting hall receded behind him. Thor had been re-telling his killing of the hrimthurs builder, the story had changed a lot over the past months, nearly a year now. When he'd first told the story, Thor had described destroying the hrimthurs before he'd known of Thor's approach, smashing the giant's skull to shards with his hammer. That Loki had no difficulty believing. It befitted Thor's style; brute force and nothing beyond it. Recently, especially if drunk, Thor had taken to describing an epic struggle of two almost unstoppable warriors, of which he had, of course, been the greater. There was always fun to be had in contesting this new story, just to see Thor's gathering wrath, but tonight… Loki simply did not have it in him. He was restless, he wanted to be alone, even when Thor was drunk and so temptingly easy to enrage by, say, pointing out that by the time Thor had got around to killing the hrimthurs, Loki had already ensured that the builder would fail, so Freja, the sun and the moon were perfectly safe. Loki smiled at the memory. He wasn't particularly proud of his dealings that night, it was something he'd never have imagined he would resort to, but it had worked.
Loki passed out of the dwellings of the Aesir, in to the woods beyond. The shadows of the trees were long now, night was approaching, but it would be short. Midsummer was only weeks away. Loki halted by a clear, shallow stream, in one of the few remaining patches of sunlight. He looked around to be sure he was really alone, then shuffled his feet uncomfortably, grimacing. He'd not been right all day. A dull, distracting ache had settled somewhere in his pelvis when he'd woken and nothing had eased it, sitting still for the past hour had made it noticeably worse, but nothing eased it. It had been much easier to ignore this morning. Loki shook his head and ran a hand through his short, black beard. He'd be fine. He probably just needed to sleep whatever it was off. He could sleep out here, it was warm enough and not much would dare to hurt him, most things feared his vengeance. Or he could go –
Pain surged up from the seat of the ache. Fierce, burning, cramping pain. He double forward, mouth open in a silent gasp. What in Niffelheim was that? The pain faded and he straightened up, panting for breath and looking around. He was truly alone, he could think of nothing he'd done to possibly cause – It surged again. He couldn't breathe past it. It wasn't passing. It wasn't going to stop. He had to escape. He had to escape from it, he had to escape from his body. Loki clenched his jaw and transformed himself, aiming for the great black wolf he sometimes walked as.
The pain faded. He fell to four legs, but they were not the legs of a wolf. Loki bent his neck, which felt very long, forwards and looked at his forelegs. Hooves. Single, unsplit, horse's hooves, on the end of clean black legs. He hadn't meant to be a horse, but if it kept the pain back, it would do. But the pain wasn't gone. The insistent ache was still in his pelvis, further back and more definite now. It was visceral pain, no doubting that, but what viscera? It must be viscera the horse had, but he in his true form didn't. How had he felt it, and felt it so strongly, in his true form then? Loki stamped a hindfoot angrily. He'd turned himself in to a colicing horse. He should be able to rectify that, and maybe now the pain would be gone. He pushed the ache away, gathered himself and transformed.
Before his form was quite normal, the pain smashed in to Loki like an enraged boar. He fell on to his side, gasping and shuddering. He couldn't do this. He released the transformation and fell back to the horse form. Cramping pain swelled up in his belly at once, but it was bearable and it passed swiftly. Loki got unsteadily to his feet. He felt unbalanced. It had been nearly a year since he'd been a horse, it wasn't unthinkable that he'd forgotten what to do with these legs, he hadn't used them since he'd run miles upon miles to keep Svadilfari chasing him, to keep the stallion from helping the builder finish the walls so the Aesir would win their wager. He felt the wrong shape, though, too broad in the belly without an increase in chest size. Loki turned his head and looked at his flanks. They were swollen, his belly dropped, pendulous, as though only half held in place.
Viscera this mare had, but his true form did not. Pain welled up inside him again. Cramping pain in viscera the mare had, he didn't normally. Oh no. He'd stood for Svadilfari in the end, he hadn't been able to run any further. He hadn't expected anything to come of it, his not actually being a horse. But he'd stood for the stallion.
He couldn't change back. In this form, the pain was nothing by comparison. Was it just his normal form that was afflicted? Loki gathered himself to become the wolf, then screamed, still in the mare's voice, against the tide of pain that assailed him. He dropped his head almost to the floor, blowing. Pain welled up in the mare's viscera again. He wasn't just in foal, he was foaling. He was giving birth, whether he willed or not.
Sigyn. This was a woman's office, Sigyn hadn't borne herself, but she had attended birthings, Aesir and beast. She would know better than he did what could be done, if anything could.
Sigyn crouched by the hearth, banking the fire in its own ashes. She'd latched the door, not bolted it though, there was still no sign of Loki. It was nearly sundown and she'd not seen hide nor hair of him all day. She wasn't surprised, just exasperated. Loki frequently disappeared for days on end, telling her nothing of where he was going or when she could expect him to return. She'd heard it whispered that he went to the bed of Angrboda, a giantess. That galled her. Had it been Freja or Gefjun, she would have… maybe not understood, but been less angry. Freja was known to be an easy catch, she owed Loki favour and by anyone's standards she was beautiful. Half the He-Aesir had probably lain with her at some point. Sigyn shook her head as though to clear it. She had no idea if any of it was true. It wasn't fair for her to condemn her husband without proof.
Something thudded against the door. Sigyn jumped. That could have been anything, and it was almost definitely nothing to hurt her. She had her knife in any case. She set down the board she'd been using to pile up the ashes and straightened. The thump came again. This time she saw the door move. Something had hit it hard, about knee height, then again almost at once.
"Who's there?" She called. No one answered. "Loki, if that's you, stop the games and come in." A pause. Sigyn reached for her knife and crouched slightly. Why was she so afraid? The latch shifted, as though someone was trying to lift it, but failing. If this was Loki, he was paralytic. She might have to come up with an inventive place to sleep tonight. Sigyn sighed heavily, walked up to the door and opened it. A black horse stood facing her, she looked up for its rider and saw none.
"What are you doing here, pretty one?" She asked quietly. "And all alone, where did you come from?" She stepped forwards and closed the door behind her, surveying the horse. It was coal black from fetlocks to poll, its body swollen so far it could only be a mare heavily in foal, and dropped. "Which fool let you out?" She crouched and looked under the mare. Her udder was full. She laid a hand on the mare's neck. The mare leant in to her. "Aren't you tame?" The mare snorted and threw her head down, back arched, straining. Sigyn replaced her hand and felt sweat there. "And you're about to foal, aren't you?" The mare nodded her head.
For a moment, Sigyn just stared at her. The mare circled to face her directly, breathing fast. "Did you just answer me 'yes'?" Sigyn asked quietly. The mare nodded again, more vigorously. Sigyn pinched herself. It hurt enough to rule out the possibility that she was dreaming. The mare snorted. "So you're no mortal horse." The mare shook her head vigorously. "So what..?" Sigyn began to ask. The mare picked up her right forehoof and traced a line in the dirt, then another joining it. Sigyn moved to stand beside the mare, to see as she saw the ground. "L." That was the shape the mare had drawn in the ground, but she hadn't stopped. She hopped to the right to keep writing, tracing more letters, pausing once, blowing with pain. "L-O-K-I" Sigyn spelled aloud as the 'mare' wrote, agonisingly slowly. "Did Loki turn you in to a horse?" The mare hesitated, then nodded slowly. Sigyn sighed. "I will have his skin for that." The mare shook her head vigorously. Sigyn tilted her head at her. "I won't or you don't want me to?" The mare snorted. "The answer has to be yes or no, doesn't it?" The mare nodded once. "Very well, do you want me to do something to Loki as vengeance for this?" The mare snorted and shook her head. "So why not? What are you really, that's the question. Are you human?" The mare shook her head. "Aesir?" The mare nodded. "Knowing that, Frigg or Freja might be able to turn you back, come on." Sigyn turned, but the mare whinneyed. She turned back. The mare shook her head. "Frigg and Freja couldn't help you?" The mare continued to shake her head. "Could Loki change you back?" The mare shook her head, ears pinned back, eyes widening. "Did Loki tell you that?" No answer. Sigyn paused, thinking. Whoever this was, she couldn't tell her enough for Sigyn to know what to do. If Loki had done this, he would know what could be done. "Where is Loki, do you know?" The mare turned her head back, almost to her own flank, head pointing off in to the forest. Sigyn strode off to where the mare had pointed. "Loki!" The mare neighed, probably her attempt to call to Loki.
Sigyn hadn't gone four paces before she felt a warm weight on her shoulder. The mare had laid her head there. "Not you. We need to find Loki. If he did this to you he can undo it." The mare shook her head. "He must be able to." She set off at a trot again. "Loki!" Again, the mare came and laid her head on Sigyn's shoulder. Sigyn closed her eyes for a moment, thinking. "I don't understand." Sigyn said. "Why do you come to me when I call for my husband?" The mare trotted back the way she'd come, to where she'd traced Loki's name in the dirt. There was a thread of mucus at her back end. She would foal before the night was out. She needed help quickly. The mare reached her nose down to the letters and stamped. Sigyn walked closer. "Loki turned you from an Aesir to a horse, you don't seek vengeance against him for it, you come to me when I shout for him and you're coal black all over." The mare looked up at her and whickered softly, as though urging her on. "Loki, is that you?" The mare nodded once and walked over to Sigyn, laying her head in to Sigyn's body. "Loki, what… happened to you? You turned yourself in to a mare and you can't change back?" The mare – Loki – nodded. "Loki, you're about to foal." He nodded. "How did-?"
Then Sigyn remembered, remembered what had happened in the last days of the building of the walls, remembered Odin's promise that if the work was done in three seasons and with the aid of no man, only his stallion, the builder would receive the sun, the moon and Freja as a wife, remembered Loki being sent to stop the work being completed on time, remembered his story of becoming a mare to lure the stallion off. Sigyn's face cracked in to laughter. Loki snorted and nudged her, but the laughter didn't stop. It grew stronger. Loki nudged her again, harder. Sigyn, fearing a kick, scrambled ten feet in to the nearest tree, still laughing, and sat there, Loki stamping and thrashing his tail beneath her. She leant in to the trunk of the tree, safely out of his reach, and let the laughter run its course.
"You stood for the stallion, didn't you?" She hiccupped past the echoes of her laughter. No clear answer. "You are never going to live this down, Loki. You're foaling. You're actually foaling." She broke down laughing again. "Oh, you stupid man; to stand in blazing heat for a stallion and assume nothing would come of it…" Loki froze again and blew hard. He was in pain. Sigyn's laughter began to subside. Loki resumed his stamping and tail-thrashing. "Loki, you came to me for help. I can't help you if I'm up a tree. Will you promise not to harm me if I come down to you?" Loki nodded begrudgingly. "Good." Sigyn swung down and stood facing her husband again.
"So you cannot change back." Loki shook his head. "Then it seems we have no choice but to get the foal out of you as swiftly as may be." Loki looked round at his flanks. "Do you have any other ideas?" He shook his head. "Very well then. We are agreed. Here is no good, the ground is too well trodden, too dusty. We should seek clean pasture." She leant on Loki's withers, judging the jump to mount. Loki started sideways, shaking his head. She looked at him. "It'll still be swifter this way. Stand. You stood for the stallion." That earned her a nip. She slapped him on the nose. "Just stand, will you?" This time, albeit with his ears pinned to his skull, he did.
Dusk had fallen when they halted at a patch of grass half the size of a long house, in one of the inexplicable clearings in the trees, far enough that they were unlikely to be discovered. Sigyn sat down on the grass. There would be nothing she could do for a while yet. Loki was restless; standing up, lying down, pacing endless circles, sweating and quivering when the pains were upon him, looking over and whinnying at her as though asking for help. There was nothing she could do for him until she could reach the foal.
"Be still, Loki. Let me see what I can feel." Sigyn called as soon as the bag of pale yellow water appeared. "It might give me early warning if there is a problem." She undid her apron and slipped out of her dress to the waist. Her torso was exposed, but it didn't matter much. It was fairly dark now and only Loki was there to see, and there was nothing to see he hadn't seen before. Even so, she felt Loki looking at her as he stood with his tail to one side. Sigyn hadn't attended many foalings. She knew what she should feel, knew how to correct most problems in goats, but a horse… This was strange to her, not least because the dam was her husband. She stood behind Loki, laid her left hand on his quarters, tucked her right thumb in to her palm to streamline her hand and slid it in to the warm darkness of the mare's – Loki's – body. She closed her eyes as she reached; she could feel nothing and she was in to the elbow. All she could be sure of at the moment was that Loki would have to open much further before he could get the foal out. She slid in another inch or so. Loki strained, pressing her arm against the bone of his pelvis. She grimaced. "That doesn't' help, Loki." She pressed on. Hooves. Two hooves foremost, just at the limit of her reach. She withdrew, fearing another wave of pressure. "That seems as it should be. Just keep going. It'll come eventually."
Sigyn pulled up a handful of grass to wipe her arm down. Loki arched his back and strained, panting. Sigyn smiled and shook her head. If you'd told her this morning that come nightfall she'd… She laughed quietly, slipping back in to her dress. Loki snapped his teeth at her, ears pinned back.
"Oh come on, it's funny." He shook his head. "Really? The god of mischief standing for a stallion and getting in foal for it, the fool in his own game. Were this anyone else, you'd be on the floor laughing." The mare shook her – his - head, then stamped, turning to look at his flank. "Oh you would, husband. You'd laugh until you had no breath left." Loki blew and paced another aimless circle, stopping only to strain again, fluid gouting from him. The foal was truly pressing him now, she could see that. He lay down, strained twice more, then got up and resumed his pacing, looking over at her plaintively. Sigyn shook her head. "You have to get it within my reach, Loki." He tilted his head at her. "And it won't be yet. Birthing isn't swift, husband. Were you a woman, you'd know that." He snapped his teeth at her, then lay down again. "I speak truth, snap at me all you want, it will change nothing."
Sigyn allowed him to strain five times more, then called,
"Be still. I may be able to reach now." Loki, who was half way to his feet, continued to get up, then stood, holding his tail aside again. Sigyn slipped back out of her dress, brought her thumb under her palm and reached in for the foal. It was far nearer now, she was only in a hand's width past her wrist and-
"One hoof, other hoof, where's the head? Ouch. Stop pushing while I'm in here." The hooves she could feel were pressed against one side of the passage, she passed her hand over them to reach for the foal's head, then froze. "Loki, stop. Stop pushing and lie down, on your right." She withdrew her hand. He looked back over his shoulder at her fearfully. "Four hooves together. Its back legs are up too. I need to get those back or it'll never come." Loki obeyed her, she knelt behind him and reached in again. The foal's head was there too at least. She had to sort back legs from front. She'd have to reach in as far as she could and feel knees from hocks. They would be a long way back. The first leg she felt had a knee, so front leg, so did the second, and the third. Sigyn cursed.
"Three front legs, no four, all together. You've got twins here, you never could make anything easy, could you?" Loki offered no response. He was just lying there, panting. Sigyn felt him closing tight around her arm, the foremost head and all four legs. She yelped in pain. That would bruise, badly. "I said stop." She had to work out which legs belonged to which foal, push the second foal back, then pull the first. She drew a deep breath and lowered herself further. "Don't kick me, whatever you do." She reached in further, feeling back along the tangle of legs, reaching for the head again. She ran her hand along the side of that foal's face, then its neck. Her fingers brushed its shoulder. She reached in further, pressing her shoulder against Loki's flesh. The shoulder ran down to the uppermost leg on that side, so she had to get hold of the other and push it back. She grabbed at it. It slipped away. She grabbed again and held it. Loki closed on her again, she growled in pain. "You can't help it, can you?" She should probably just check that the leg she was holding wasn't attached to the foal she wanted. She ran her hand down it. It met a chest, the same chest, it was the other leg, the foal's left, but – "What the..?" She started. "It feels like I've got two front legs on the same side of the same foal. That can't…" She pulled the joint forwards, the other leg on that side moved with it. This couldn't be. There could not be two right forelegs on one foal. She ran her hand between the two legs. Surely they weren't joined up. "Niffelheim. Loki, this isn't twins. This foal's got two right fores." Left fores. She hadn't checked that. "And two left fores. Four front legs, Odin's beard!"
She withdrew her arm and shook it off. "I don't know what to do, Loki. It's got four front legs, Hugin sees what it's like in the back, the Jotun-born thing is a monster." Loki strained again, back legs tensed as hard as his flanks, shaking with exertion and pain. When it had passed, he lay gasping for a moment, then looked back at her, still panting. "Do you think you could die bearing it?" Loki made no response, just rolled half way on to his chest. "You don't know?" He shook his head. "And you still can't change back." He shook his head. Sigyn sighed. "Then there is nothing to do but try until we can try no more."
She knelt down behind Loki again. He rolled back on to his side and strained at once. Sigyn shivered. She'd been half-dressed for a while now, her arm was wet to the shoulder and the night was cooling rapidly. Loki relaxed, panting heavily. He was drenched in sweat, he looked like he'd been out in a downpour. She'd have expected a mortal horse in this predicament to die. Loki? This not being his true form might save him. What happened to a shape-shifter if they died in a borrowed form? She didn't know and she had no way to find out, Loki couldn't tell her now. She reached back in to her husband and grasped one of the foal's left legs, the ones nearer to the ground, braced her other arm against Loki's quarters and pulled.
Sigyn had no idea how long it went on, pulling at the foal's legs one at a time, the four in turn, hissing with effort, Loki pushing for all he was worth, he knew he'd die if he didn't, but still he groaned and gasped with pain with every effort. If he ever sired a child off her, he wouldn't tend to her, she knew that. But she had to help him. When the foal was far enough out, the breadth of its monstrous shoulders almost pressed against the rim of the mare's pelvis, Sigyn took both hands to its legs and braced her feet instead, pulling with the full force of her back and hips. It would come dead, deformed foals almost always did. It would be strange indeed for the offspring of a half-jotun and a horse to survive.
At the rim of Loki's pelvis, the foal's shoulders stuck fast. Sigyn had feared that. If she pulled and Loki pushed hard enough to free it, they'd probably tear his insides to pieces. A mortal mare would turn septic or bleed to death. If she left the foal as it was, Loki would die of exhaustion. If he could abandon the mare's form once the foal was free of him, the bleeding might not harm him. Either way, it would be unspeakably cruel to leave him like this. Sigyn looked at the dark form before her. Maybe he deserved such a fate, she knew a lot of what he'd done, no doubt not all of it, and bits of it sickened her. Sigyn closed her eyes for a moment. No. She couldn't just let him die like that. If in trying to save him she killed him, so be it, but she could not leave him to die in agony.
He strained. Sigyn tightened her grip on the foal's legs and pulled, hissing with effort under Loki's groans. Time fell away again, the strength of husband and wife was failing, until, inch by agonizing inch, the foal began to come. Loki's straining was weaker now, Sigyn's hands burned with the effort as they slipped over the foal's joints. It was out to the nose now, its thick, monster's shoulders wedged tight in Loki's pelvis. All for a bet against a dead man. Sigyn shouted in mixed rage, pain and frustration.
The foal came. In a rush of bloody water, it slithered forth in to the world. Sigyn fell backwards, letting go of it. The foal shook its head. It was alive. For all its deformity, it was alive. She scrambled back to her feet and crouched by it, clearing its head of the wet skin it had been born in. It gasped. Sigyn looked over the rest of its body. It had four back legs too, the legs of two horses, the body of one. It gasped again. It was hard to tell in this light, but it seemed to be very pale in colour, it looked grey, but foals were almost never born grey, it was more likely to be very pale brown. Sigyn smiled to herself. Foals were also almost never born with eight legs. Its back legs were still in Loki from the hocks down. She pulled it clear. Colt foal. It was breathing normally now, trying to roll on to his chest to get up.
"Loki." She called. He didn't respond. He was still lying on his side, panting. He was bleeding quite hard, some bleeding was unavoidable, but she'd have wagered he was torn inside. She got up and walked round to his head. "Loki, it's over." His eyes were closed She laid a hand on his neck. His eyes flickered open. "It's born, it has got eight legs, but it's born. You did it." He closed his eyes again. "Don't hurry to get up. Better to stay lying down than fall down trying to stand." She couldn't hover over Loki like this. She could help him when he needed help, but she couldn't… tend to him, like she did sick horses or Aesir, or Sif when she'd birthed Ullr, some months before she'd married Thor. Something in Loki forbade such treatment. She could not pity him, even now. Sigyn rose and returned to the foal.
He was still breathing, and trying to work out what to do with his abundance of legs. Loki was in no state to lick him dry, so it fell to her, else he'd chill and die. Sigyn pulled a handful of grass to wipe her arms, put her dress back on properly, the cold was starting to bother her, and set about it. The cord joining the foal to Loki was broken soon after by a wayward kick of the foal's. It wasn't long after that that Sigyn saw the mare disappear. Loki lay in her place.
"Are you alright?" It was all she could summon to say to him. It took him a long moment to respond.
"I think I will be."
"Good." The foal was nearly dry by the time Loki rolled over and got to his feet. He came and crouched at its shoulder, took it by the jaw in his left hand, pulled its head up and back and drew his knife.
"No!" Sigyn shouted, shoving Loki away. He was badly balanced, so fell backwards. She stepped over the foal and stood between it and its dam.
"Get out of the way, woman." Loki snarled.
"You fought for hours to bring this foal, you can't kill it."
"I fought to get it out of me, not to give it life." He got back to his feet.
"You would kill a creature you bore?"
"I did not ask to bear it. It was an unintended consequence of something that had to be done."
"Had to be done? You could have lain down when the stallion caught you. You could have changed your shape again, but you didn't. You let him mount you, just because you wanted to know what it felt like."
"Do not speak to me of shape-shifting Sigyn, you know nothing of-" Loki broke off, grimacing. He looked back up at her, storm-faced, and spat on the ground. "You know nothing of the laws that bind us when we forsake the shapes we were born to."
"So you would kill your own offspring like a rat at the bread. You are base-natured with the worst. Nothing slays what it also creates, no creature in the Nine Realms is twisted enough. What are you?" Loki didn't reply at once. His head was stretched forward and down, face contorted with pain. He straightened convulsively and grabbed Sigyn to him. She tensed, but knew better than to struggle. He was stronger, and he had a knife. He wouldn't kill her, but he would hurt her badly if she gave him cause.
"I am no one, Sigyn." He breathed against her skin. "I am no one and nothing and whatever I please." He released her, pushing her back, she almost fell over the foal. "And for that, I am free." He smiled, raising his arms, the ghost of a laugh crossing his face, then he doubled forwards, face twisted in pain again, gasping, would have fallen but instead became the mare again. For a moment, he stood frozen. Sigyn shifted so she was still between him and the foal; he could still trample it. The mare looked back over its own body, the snorted angrily and cantered away, bucking. Sigyn sighed. She'd guessed that Loki would not be a good mother, but to kill the colt in cold blood… She should have seen it was possible, there was no benefit to Loki in keeping the foal alive, so he wouldn't necessarily do it.
What could she do with the foal now? It needed First Milk, desperately. Loki killed it by flying as surely as by cutting its throat, but there might be another mare somewhere that had just birthed, that could be compelled to give First Milk. It was a poor chance, but it was a chance at least. It relied on her getting the foal home by daybreak. She couldn't carry it. Thor or Tyr could have done easily, but she was half their size. She would have to get the colt on its feet. Would it be able to walk with its extra legs, or would they trip it? She would not know unless she tried.
"Come on, little one." She breathed. "Up." She rolled the foal on to its chest and freed its legs from under it. Footsteps behind her. She turned, getting up and staring in to the darkness. The feet she could hear were hooves. Something was coming through the trees, a horse, a jet black mare.
"Loki, don't-" Loki headbutted her aside, hard enough that she fell away, and lowered his head to the foal. "Loki!" She screamed. "Stop!" She got back to her feet, expecting at any moment to her the foal cry in pain under Loki's hooves, expecting to see it crushed. But no. The only sound was Loki whickering softly to the foal, like any mortal mare with her newborn. He was licking it dry, finishing her work. Sigyn sighed with relief. "I don't understand, but I'll not complain." Loki ignored her. All he saw now was the foal.
The foal started trying to get up in earnest, getting its legs under it, straightening them and pushing itself back on to its flank. Loki was standing over it, frozen, uncertain. Sigyn had been waiting for too long to be sure of this foal. She did not have it in here to stand here until it figured out what to do with its legs. She walked over, making sure Loki saw her, and hoisted the foal to its feet. She let go. It stayed standing, with an obvious effort. Loki snorted, half reared, turned and cantered away, tossing his head. Sigyn drew breath to shout after him, but it would be a waste. She did not understand this at all; Loki'd lain down to bear the foal, born it, turned back in to himself, tried to kill it, turned back in to a mare and licked it dry, now he'd fled in to the night again.
"What will you do for a mother, little one?" She asked the foal. It tried to take a step towards her and fell back to its knees. Sigyn waited. If it couldn't get up on its own, there was no point in trying to do anything for it. One by one, it got its front legs back under it and pulled itself off the ground. Sigyn smiled. It reached out its neck and nosed her hand. Sigyn stepped away. "Come on." Her hand was just out of its reach. It took another step. This time, it didn't fall. It took hold of her fingers, sucking for milk. "I have nothing, little one. Come on." She stepped back again, moving homewards. She'd be home not much before dawn at this speed, but she couldn't carry the foal, so it would have to walk.
It had taken maybe ten paces, and fallen twice more, when Sigyn heard footsteps again. She looked up, looking around. There were things in Asgard she feared, there were things here that would hurt her, but it needn't be anything more than a deer. Hooves.
"Loki?" She called in to the darkness. The foal caught up with her again and ran its nose up her leg. She stepped back. It followed her. It was learning. She glanced over her shoulder and backed up two more paces. She was at the edge of the clearing now. It was pitch black under the trees. The hooves drew closer again. Somewhere in the darkness to her left, something was moving, something about the right size to be Loki in the mare's form. A horse whickered in the dark. The foal replied. The black mare came back in to view. Sigyn just stood and watched him, afraid of scaring him away again. He came and stood nose to nose with the foal. What was in his mind? He ran to and from the thing like a nesting bird to dry grass. Sigyn didn't dare make a sound. Loki moved his head down the foal's neck, sniffing it all over, poll to tailhead. He turned his flank to the foal. Was he going to let it drink? After what he'd said before it seemed unlikely, but he'd come back, twice. The foal ran its nose up the back of Loki's foreleg. Loki nudged it towards his hindquarters with his nose, ears starting to tilt back. Sigyn bit her lip and stood still. The foal ran its nose up the front of Loki's gaskin.
Loki bucked and twisted away, crashing his back legs in to a young tree and squealing with shock.
"What are you doing?" Sigyn burst out. The foal seemed unhurt at least. Loki stood twelve feet away, head up, ears back, blowing. "You invite it, then..!" She threw up her hands in frustration. She went back to the foal's head and offered her hand to it. It ignored her. It wouldn't follow her while it could see Loki. What was she supposed to do now? She gave Loki a withering look. He looked rather less terrified now. She stepped away from the foal. He approached it, came nose to nose with it again, then flank to flank. Sigyn came to stand beside Loki's hindleg; he shouldn't be too able to kick her there. He looked round at her. The foal's head was probing the underside of Loki's belly. Sigyn reached for his udder. As soon as she touched it, he kicked out at her, but she was too close for him to do any damage.
"Stop it." She said calmly. She reached back under him. He picked his foot up, threatening. "Come on, you've done this to me often enough." He did kick her for that. She bit down on her curse before she spoke it and reached for his udder again. This time, he stood. She guided the foal to it and let go. Loki didn't flinch. She sighed quietly and stepped away, waiting for the foal to drink its fill. Loki dropped his head and pulled at the thin grass. Anyone would have thought he was a mortal mare, if not for the foal – if indeed you could really call it a foal – beside him.
When the foal had drunk its fill, Loki lifted his head, sniffed it again and began to walk homewards. The foal followed him, steadier on its feet now, but still slow. Sigyn followed the pair mutely. When they got home, Loki stood by the stable door, breathing heavily now, until Sigyn opened it, then led the foal in. He was still bleeding freely. It should have stopped by now. A mortal mare would probably not have lived through tomorrow. Loki? She didn't know. She glanced away, in to the darkness. When she looked back, the foal was lying down in the straw alone, Loki was passing the threshold, in his true form again. He was pale and drawn-looking, even in the moonlight she could see that. He said nothing to her, just opened the door and let her follow him in to the house.
Sigyn woke with a start. Daylight was streaming in to the room. The brightness blinded her for a moment. Someone was sitting at the end of the bed. She blinked. Loki. She sat half way up. He looked at her.
"Keep the colt. It will not need feeding for some hours yet, that should give you time to devise a way. If anyone asks after its dam, you found a mare foaling last night, she died soon after bearing it. That is close enough to the truth that you should be able to keep it, no mortal mare could have survived that." He got to his feet.
"You're going." Sigyn said. It wasn't a question, it wasn't a request, it wasn't a complaint. It was just a statement of fact.
"Yes."
"Where?"
"I don't know. I think I will when I get there. I feel… restless, unsettled."
"When will you come back?" He sighed.
"I don't know. When I feel like myself again." He turned and walked away.
"Loki." Sigyn called after him. He stopped and turned back. "Why did you come back? Last night after you ran away, why did you come back?" Loki didn't answer or look at her for a long moment, as though debating whether or not he wanted to answer at all. He drew a tentative breath.
"When I change my skin, it is not only my skin that changes. All beneath changes, it must. Flesh, bones, viscera… all change like molten metal. As I've grown older I've come to see that it's not only my body I change. My mind, my very soul changes more the longer I hold a form. I came back because my mind had become like that of a foaling mare. I hated the foal, for the indignity and the pain it had given me, but I wanted nothing more than to tend to it. In the end, the mare's will was stronger. That is also why the foal was. I ran from Svadilfari all that night and by the time I could run no more nothing seemed more natural than to stand for him. He had shown his strength for me amply and earned his prize. If I had known the price I would pay for that, I would have acted differently, but I didn't know." Loki turned again and walked away. Sigyn heard the door close behind him. She looked down at her right hand. It was black and blue almost to the elbow. She flexed it, it didn't seem to be damaged. She sighed. He'd be back when he felt like himself again. How long that would take she had no way to guess. That was Loki, always running, every moment of his life, he was running. She'd be fine on her own, she was well used to it. Anyway, she had his foal to mind.
I would like to thank my Grandmother for being an inspiration, my brother for learning with me how to tell stories and, most of all, God, for creating everything and NOT behaving like this, for coming in humility to serve, teach and die for us that we might be with him, even though we are broken and he is unspeakably Holy.