Loki laid back on the pallet within her dark cell, the long chains affixed to her arms and legs rattled as she moved. Her groin ached and throbbed even as she attempted to heal herself. The guards were much more amenable when she willingly gave them a chance at her elegant body. And, oh, was she a beautiful woman…! She changed her position, bringing another wave of pain over her pelvis.
Although she knew they would have forced her, at least when they knew she would be cooperative they were more conducive to allowing her little favors here and there in exchange for sex. Loki chuckled humorlessly, if you can call that brutality "sex…" They had taken turns this time. She sneered in disgust, remembering hours upon hours of ceaseless use. Worse than her physical injuries, her pride recoiled at her debasement, however, if that was the cost of a chance at freedom, she would gladly pay it.
She knew that one day that particular talent might very well allow her escape. Loki consoled herself with the knowledge that she would not pass up the opportunity to kill her violators on the way out.
Three months later, she sat massaging her temple, nursing a persistent migraine. The jailers had just begun distributing daily rations when the smell of food wafted into her cell. A moment later saw her frantically diving for the chamber pot.
The scent had brought on an immediate and overwhelming bout of nausea. Before she could stop herself, she was violently expelling the contents of her stomach. She continued choking on her own bile until there was nothing left.
Loki awoke flat on her back, staring up at the ceiling of her cell. A moment before she had been on her knees vomiting when she had been overwhelmed by a wave of dizziness. Well, she thought bitterly, time to add another symptom to the list. Five months had passed and her symptoms had not improved, if anything, they had worsened. It was not as though the guards cared, they simply marched by impassively as she dry-heaved.
Her apparent illness had put her wardens off to her which meant she could no longer leverage larger meals or better blankets with her feminine form. Though she cursed the lost bargaining chip, she supposed she would have been too ill to take advantage of it.
Loki's eyes widened as she palpated her abdomen. Both wonder and horror washed over her. A child…She realized, suddenly struggling to breathe. How could there be a child? A sinking feeling grew in the pit of her stomach as she remembered her arrangement with her jailers. she thought she was going to be sick again but this time it would not be from her condition.
Lost in in thought, her hand subconsciously moved to cradle the tight swell of her stomach. A child…She thought, as awe swept through her. My child…my own, true blood… In spite of the circumstances of its creation, it was still her offspring. Loki realized then that she did not care how risky it was: she would at least try bear the child, consequences be damned. She was already half mad so what did it matter if the idea itself was insane?
By her calculations, the child was seven months along but, due to her own Jotun physiology, she was unsure whether it was developing at the normal rate. She briefly considered confiding in the guards and throwing herself on their mercy but decided against it, fearing what the responsible parties might do to cover up their indiscretion. Worst of all, she feared the Allmother's reaction if word of the child's conception escaped the dungeons.
Unlike the guards, Odin would not rip the tender babe from her body, instead, Loki feared a fate she considered far worse. Though she bristled at the retribution she would inevitably receive for seducing her wardens, she was enraged to think that the old tyrant would allow her son or daughter to be born only to use them as a pawn…just as Odin had used her.
All she could do was wait and think…hopefully, if she could bide her time long enough and figure out a way to quietly bring the babe into the world, she would have a better chance of saving it from her own fate. Fortunately, the secret would now be far easier to keep since the patrolling guards had begun avoiding her cell for fear of catching her mysterious illness. Loki laughed hollowly, this affliction was certainly not catching.
Days passed, then weeks, and months. Loki did what she could to keep down food and water to nourish the child's development, however, she still struggled not to retch.
She guessed that it had already been twelve and a half months or so, as she had suspected, the whole process was taking longer due to her damnable biology. Everything was beginning to ache. Her back and pelvis protested no matter how she positioned herself and she was finding it difficult to breathe. She sucked in a breath as her midsection went taut with a false contraction.
How have so many women managed this…?
Although her torso already ached from accommodating the growing baby, two months prior, the child had further added to the physical discomfort by beginning to kick her, hard.
She had decided that once her body began to labor, she would simply have to hope that the child was correctly positioned and go from there. If she died giving birth, so be it, at least it would be a quick death rather than the slow, soul-sucking rot of Asgard's prison. Loki knew bearing children was no quiet affair but she counted on doing all that she could to remain silent and ignored. Whatever happened, she would have to face it alone, otherwise, the babe would be at the mercy of either her jailers or Odin herself.
Assuming things went smoothly, Loki decided, that her only option was to attempt to have the child smuggled away after it was born. Hopefully, she could summon a healer and count on their discerning medical conscience. Though she was not entirely sure who the father was, she knew they were Asgardian. Hopefully, the child would take on its sire's appearance instead of her natural, Jotun skin and would be able to blend into the kingdom of Aesir.
After a few more weeks, her hands and ankles swelled so that the cuffs bit into her skin. Little by little, her appetite had returned and Loki's once loose tunic now struggled to stretch over her torso. Although her great height hid the child's unusually diminutive silhouette rather well, she knew it would soon be too obtrusive to miss. She wondered if the guards would peer through the small window in her cell long enough to notice.
Though she could have cast an illusion to hide her distorted body, it would have taken energy away from the growing babe. Furthermore, she really did not have the energy to spare. She was constantly exhausted as it was and, to top it off, the unyielding pain in her body rendered her unable to sleep.
Loki had lost track of how much time had passed, it had begun to run together. She was still unable to rest, in fact, she had not done so for days. She was tired and her mind felt dull and slow. Even without the fog of anxiety and sapped strength, it was difficult to develop a sense of night and day, shut away in the lowest chambers of Asgard's prisons where seconds, minutes, hours, days and weeks bled into one continuous stream.
With great effort, she rose from her pallet to stretch her throbbing back. Though she had been trying to maintain some physical activity, the sudden wave of dizziness reminded her of why that had been so difficult. She threw a hand out to steady herself against the wall and swallowed back the bile that had risen to her throat. Ah, yes, she was reminded, that too…
Although the queasiness had subsided for a period of time, she found that it had suddenly come back with a vengeance. She knew she should probably sit back down before she passed out but her pride would not allow it. The child kicked in protest as its parent staggered. she remained standing, waiting for the moment to pass.
When will this misery end?
As the lightheadedness became manageable, she cringed at a sharp feeling of pressure against her pubic bone; the child's increasing weight had shifted to strain low and heavy between her hips.
Soon then…very soon.
She might have days or hours but one thing was certain, she needed to rest and conserve her strength. Although her overall discomfort made such an endeavor quite difficult, eventually, she fell asleep.
She groaned as she awoke to an intense feeling of pressure under her pelvis, fluid trickling across her thighs. She knew this was long overdue and she had been allowed far more time to prepare herself for the moment than most but Hel if it did not hurt! Crawling to her knees, Loki attempted to remove her breeches but found to her frustration that her limited reach prevented her from undoing the fastenings well enough to work the trousers off her swollen legs. This set back was unanticipated.
She bit back another groan as the tension below her hips grew more insistent. For now, she would have to leave them on and hope there would be no complications.
With pained effort, she dragged herself off of the berth and rose on shaky legs in order to make use of gravity. Leaning against the wall for support, Loki gagged in disgust as amniotic fluid rushed from her body. Her muscles contracted and she breathed through her nose to avoid crying out in surprise at the strange sensation.
For a while, that was all she did: inhale sharply, exhale sharply, inhale sharply, exhale sharply... Though the shackles limited her motion, during the early hours of her quickening, she paced laboriously in an effort to keep things moving along; when struck with particularly powerful spasms, she rode them out on her hands and knees or on her haunches.
The contractions would come and then subside for a time. In between, Loki allowed herself to relax as sweat began beading on her face.
Unfortunately for Loki, each reprieve became marginally smaller than the last, even as her contractions got more powerful. Eventually, after going to her hands and knees during a particularly bad one, she found it too agonizing to attempt to stand back up, instead, she sat back on the floor and panted, wrapping her arms around herself as a sharper contraction washed over her. Loki ground her teeth together and collapsed into a fetal position. Her body arched against the stone ground as her muscles shuddered. She sank her teeth into the material of her sleeve and moaned gutturally into the fabric.
Hours passed as her contractions worsened. All the while, she tugged at the accursed trousers but, in spite of her best efforts, they stubbornly remained. Every inch of her body trembled with exertion and was slick with perspiration. she panted in desperate need of water. The child was not even crowning. Even after hours of effort, the sensation of intense, unwavering pressure told her it was impossible for the child to crown.
It was then that she noticed a river of blood beginning to flow between her legs.
No! No! No! No!
Loki had long before given up on hiding her cries of pain, instead she had cast a muffling charm over the room; it was one of the few uses of her magic that the enchanted prison would allow. Although it had cost her energy, she had found it liberating to be able to cry out her agony.
She cursed herself for that decision, at this point, her voice was hoarse and raw, even if she tried to yell for help, she had not the power to be heard. She blindly clutched at her nether regions, trying in vain to stop the hemorrhaging. Blood smeared over her pale hands.
So much blood…
Loki felt panic rising as the room spun around her. Her heartbeat felt sickeningly erratic. She bowed her head in submission to agony. Were it not for her ragged breathing, her crumpled form would have looked for all the world like a gore-painted corpse.
If she had not been borderline delirious, she would have heard the heavy clank of her cell door quickly opening and closing. Suddenly, through the haze of pain she heard someone speak her name. Her eyes flew open to see a blurry figured crouching over her.
Thor?
She stared for a moment, believing herself to be hallucinating. As seconds ticked by, she realized the image before her was all too real and felt anger rise within her. "Don't tell me you finally decided to visit!" Loki bit out, humiliated by her sister's presence. In all the time she had been locked away, never once had she seen any member of her adopted family.
Why did that have to change now, of all times?
Loki hated herself and her shameful state, the last thing she wanted was the mockery of the family that had cast her aside. "Shall I be expecting Odin next" she hissed. "Or did she just send you down here so you could tell her when I was dead?" she finished the sentence with a punctuating gasp of pain as her sinews clenched. Her hands continued to grasp uselessly at her groin as blood spilled through her fingers.
Thor's gaze took on a piercing quality, "No, Loki, I came without her knowledge." Her voice had a hard edge that Loki had rarely heard outside of battle. "Heimdall saw you. It was she who awoke me and alerted me to your…predicament."
Heimdall. Of course. I should have known. Loki thought dryly, she broke off the thought as her torso cramped with another contraction.
"You need help." Thor stated. "Surely, you realize you cannot do this on your own." As much as Loki hated to admit it, Thor was right. She would have laughed at the thought of agreeing with the stupid oaf if it had not hurt so much.
Thor placed an urgent but firm hand on the younger woman's shoulder, an anchor in a sea of pain, "Will you cooperate if I assist you" The goddess of mischief hesitated only to feel her heart shiver with exertion. If she died, perhaps, with Thor here, the child could still be saved. "Yes." Loki grunted.
In a show of energy, she twisted to grab Thor's wrist; though the thunder goddess did not react, she automatically tensed to defend herself, eyes flashing in warning. "But first," Loki snarled, ferally baring her teeth, "swear to me that you shall never tell Odin. "Thor was silent. She gave Loki an icy stare as their eyes locked. For a moment, Loki felt a flash of dread that she had pushed too far, that Thor was going turn and leave her alone and bleeding in the dark.
Loki's grip on Thor tightened and her jaw clenched as an unusually sharp pang sliced through her belly. Her free hand involuntarily moved to clutch her midsection in an effort to stop the pain but she never broke eye contact. Thor's stare flickered to the odd sight of Loki's heavily rounded stomach; her eyes softened imperceptibly, taking pity on the soon-to-be-born child whose presence it betrayed. In order to protect the child, Thor knew she needed to aid its languishing parent.
Not telling Odin meant she could not summon healers and would have to try to assist the delivery by herself. Although she feared causing harm to the infant, doing nothing was not an option she was willing to entertain. If silence was what it took to bargain for Loki's cooperation then she supposed it was worth the risk.
"You have my word."
Loki relaxed, releasing her grasp
"How long has it been?" Thor asked. Loki cringed at another contraction, "Too long," the past few hours had been little more than a haze of pain, she had no way of knowing exactly how much time had gone by. "Ten, eleven, twelve hours" Loki rasped, "…maybe…I am not sure. Everything is moving at a slower pace." Thor looked at her uneasily. "You are bleeding far too much." Loki ground her teeth in pain, "I hadn't noticed," she sneered sarcastically.
Thor brushed the comment aside. "Can you stand?" If possible, she preferred to minimize the risk of exposing the vulnerable babe to infection from the filth and grime of the old prison floor. Loki's breathing was shallow and she involuntarily curled into herself with pain. "I doubt such…a thing…is possible at…this juncture."
Thor hesitated a moment, "Then I will help you. Hold out your shackles," the manacles needed to come off before she could do anything else. Loki's limbs quivered as she extended her extremities. Although Thor hesitated to remove the bindings, she doubted Loki would have the strength or energy to make a run for it.
With a clank, the iron chains were cast aside. Thor took Loki's wrist and hauled it over her shoulder, slipping her free hand around the other woman's hip. As Thor rose, the younger sister stumbled to her feet, slumping against the other goddess' solid frame as her muscles seized once more. With great effort, Thor swiftly carried her limp form to the empty berth.
From somewhere on her person, Thor produced a healing stone and sat it on the pallet. Thor moved with purposeful urgency as she addressed the prisoner, "We must undress you for this to work." Her patient nodded faintly, blood was still flowing freely from Loki's body and the edges of her vision were tinged with blackness.
Her head lolled as she allowed the thunder goddess to pull off her tunic. Recognizing her weakness, Thor quickly moved her hands under Loki's shoulders, helping her sister to lie back. "Loki, you fool," she admonished, turning to remove her sister's breeches, "why did you not at least alert the guards to your distress?"
Even through a fog of weakness, Loki felt indignance surge through her: "Whom, exactly, do you think did this to me?" she managed to hiss before once again being seized by the pangs of labor. Thor fell silent as she removed the breeches. Although it did not show, her stomach churned at the thought, disturbed by its implications.
In spite of her disgust, as soon as she finished removing the trousers, Thor did not spare a moment in taking the healing stone and crushing it above Loki's waist and pelvis; fine bits of dust fell upon her pale flesh, glowing gold as they dissolved into her rippling muscles. The effect was instantaneous. Warmth surged through Loki's body as the bleeding ceased. Her chest heaved as a modicum of strength seeped back into her limbs. Thor watched her intently.
"Is the child alright?"
Loki glanced down before laying a trembling hand on her rounded navel. She felt the babe writhing inside of her, responding to the magic of the healing stone. She nodded and took several shuddering breaths before coughing on the dryness of her throat.
Thor visibly relaxed and silently lifted a canteen to her sister's lips.
Loki trembled and shook as she attempted to raise her head, prompting Thor to place a hand on the sweat-soaked nape of her neck to steady her sister. After slaking her thirst, Thor helped her to lay down on her side, placing something soft beneath her head. Thor then rolled up the discarded breeches and tucked them between the other woman's knees. A choked groan escaped Loki's lips as her muscles rippled once more. Her fingers clenched around the edges of the stone shelf upon which she lay, eyes wide with pain.
Thor knew she needed the younger goddess to remain calm.
In an effort to soothe the stricken woman, she sat down at Loki's head and laid a hand on her back, massaging the spasming muscles. Thor was surprised when she felt the trembling flesh lean into her touch. Without thinking, Thor found words of encouragement calmly flowing from her lips, "You are doing well, Loki, just breathe…" Loki would have lashed out with a venomous remark at the patronizing tone, ashamed to receive the heir-apparent's comfort, but found she simply did not have the will. Although she did not want to acknowledge it, she could feel her heartbeat stabilizing and her body relaxing under Thor's ministrations.
Loki knew Thor had long ceased to care for her traitorous adopted sister; Thor only tended her out of concern for the innocent life carried within her swollen belly. Nonetheless, the sorceress was calmed knowing she was not alone, trusting that the woman beside her would help and not hurt her.
It was far more than she had hoped for.
She knew her life had been close to giving out when Thor's foolish compassion had brought her down to Loki's prison. If she had died, her child would have died with her, and though she, herself, was resigned to death, she had no desire to see the young life for whom she had suffered be snuffed out because of its parent's weakness. Even with all that had transpired between them, Loki could not help but feel a shred of gratitude toward the woman she had once called "sister".
For the next several hours Loki writhed and groaned with pain. Thor gave her water and wiped the sweat from her brow, murmuring words of encouragement and soothing Loki's throbbing muscles as things progressed.
At some point, Loki's mind went blank with agony and she found herself instinctively clutching for Thor's hand as the white-hot intensity of it told her she was close to the end. With Thor's help, she found herself kneeling on the pallet in a customary Asgardian position for childbirth.
Thor stood facing Loki, holding her as her whole body convulsed. The two were chest to chest as Loki folded her arms onto Thor's broad shoulders, clutching Thor as though her life depended on it. She rested her head on her sister's neck, her black hair falling into her face and spilling over Thor's shoulder. Sweat and tears stung her eyes with each push,
I cannot do this…I cannot do this…It hurts too much…! Loki's mind protested in panic.
Thor's voice rumbled in her ear, calm and reassuring: "Yes, you can. Hang on just a little longer. Breathe in and out..."Loki had not realized she had been murmuring aloud. Her conscious mind was all but stripped away. She obeyed without even realizing it.
In and out. In and out. In and-
On blind instinct, she cried out and gave a primal, violent push. She felt like she was being split in half. Just when she thought her body could take no more, Loki felt something give deep within her. Blood gushed down her thighs and Thor caught the child that had just come into the world.
Loki fell back against the wall, exhausted and shuddering with lingering contractions. Thor immediately severed the child's umbilical cord, declaring it to be a small, but healthy, female. The baby girl gave a cry as Thor wiped her clean. Loki sighed in relief when she saw that the child looked for all the world like an Aesir.
"Thor…" she asked as her sister swaddled the infant, Thor glanced up and Loki regarded her with weary eyes, "I know you hate me, but the child is innocent. Get her away from here and do not tell her of her parentage, do not tell her of me…I…I want her safe." Thor eyed her with an unreadable expression, "Very well, I shall do as you ask." Loki released a breath she had not realized she had been holding, "Good," she replied, closing her eyes.
"And what of you?" Thor asked interrogatively, "What of those who did this?"
Loki smirked faintly, opening her eyes to regard Thor with a sly look, "Oh, don't bother to feign concern, I shall not give them the same kind of "fun" again." Thor's eyes narrowed as she cradled the child closer. Loki ignored her look as she waved her hand and muttered an incantation.
Thor glanced impassively around the room as the blood and gore vanished from the cell. Loki pulled on her discarded tunic and lay back with exhaustion. All she wanted was to sleep. Thor stepped toward her, still cradling the newborn. Loki caught a glimpse of her daughter's head poking out from where the child lay swaddled in Thor's cloak.
She wearily held out her hands and feet in anticipation; Thor was strangely silent as she replaced the shackles. As Thor moved to leave, Loki impulsively mumbled her name, causing the thunder goddess to pause.
"Thank you, sister."
As her eyes fluttered closed, Loki heard Thor open the door of the cell, stealing away in the wee hours of the morning to carry the child to safety. For once, she was glad of Thor's damn, noble nature. In a different situation, she would have taken the opportunity to escape or fight her way out, however, she was simply too exhausted and would have been easily overwhelmed. Everything hurt, she was so tired….and yet…so proud to have brought her child into the world.
Even if I never even held her…
And then she drifted off to sleep.