Chapter 3
By the 7th month the fetus sucked so much of his magic, it became impossible to hide his mountain sized gut anymore, all his energy reserved for keeping up his asgardian appearance and the ocasional walk around the cell, hoping against all hope the movement might do him good when the time came to give birth.
The walks, no matter if it was even just to get across the room to get his plate, has became an extreme challange. Getting up alone has become more difficult and time consuming that he would have ever thought it could be, turning from a quick movement to an entire process that could take up to 10 minutes in which he would need to turn and push himself up with all he had, often multiple times before eventually getting to his feet, often just to fall right back on the bed and have to do it all over again. It was such moments that made him wish death would hurry up a bit and just claim him already.
He was worried at first that maybe someone would see his condition and alert Frigga, or worse, Odin. That he would order Loki's execution then and there before yet another Jotun stain could appear on their family tree. Despite how willing he was to just get out of this absolutely hellish situation, he wanted to die on his own terms. Thankfully, none of the guards ever bothered to look at him while passing his daily meals and if they did see anything, they kept it to themselves at least.
Once on his feet, he'd walk slower than a elder just about to knock on death's door, his massive belly making it very difficult to jeep his balance, especially since he couldn't use them to aid his balance. As he walked, both his hands were occupied holding his stomach, one of them under to try to elevate some of the burden his poor back was stuck with for 9 months the other protectively placed on the roundest spot of his belly, in order to try to keep it from bursting open each time the fetus decided to kick, which by this point was happening multiple times a day, leaving him with a constant dull ache in his abdomen that certainly didn't help with the nausea he's developed recently.
"Dinner"
Loki sighed, screwing his eyes shut as he heard the banging of the plate as it fell on the floor. Food side up, by the sounds of it.
He contemplated not getting up. He was tired, in pain and he was almost positive he wouldn't be able to keep that gruel down anyway. He would rather not lie in bed next to a puddle of his own vomit, if he could help it.But the logical part of his brain told him that he needed to keep up his strengths otherwise soon enough he will be stuck with blue skin and blood red eyes as he gave his final breath.
With a frustrated groan he started the process of slooowly lifting himself up, barely succeeding in his 6th try and started wobbling to the plate, using both his hands to lift up his belly as he walked. He was positive the skin would break and all his intestines would spill out otherwise. His belly was hanging lower and felt heavier than ever before, to the point where just moving in bed caused painful spams in his back. But as his brain so wisely suggested, he still needed to eat. As he reached his destination he began slowly sitting down on the floor, when an excruciating pain hit his stomach, causing his legs to give and he fell on his side with a gasp.
"You cursed creature, what was that for?!" he screamed at his pregnancy
That was it, he'd had enough. He looked to his left, to the mirror his mother gifted him on her last visit. As quickly as he could he crawled to it, and slammed it on the ground, watching in delight as the shards spread all over the floor, a particularly large chunk landing right next to him. It was as if the Gods themselves were giving their blessing for what he was about to do.
He clutched the shard in his hand, paying no mind to the blood seeping through his fingers as he bashed in the sadistic pleasure he was feeling. He will free himself today, curse whatever happened next. Just as he was about to shove the shard into his gut, he felt something wet trickle down his leg. He looked down to see a red stain spread all over his thigh.
"Fuck, he mumbled to himself"
Couldn't the creature wait one more second before deciding to make it's way into the world?
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He clenched his teeth, trying his hardest not to scream as the contraction reached it's peak. What must have been only seconds felt to him like an eternity. Slowly but surely, the pain began to subside. He let out a sigh of relief as it finally went away, staring at his own reflection in the broken shards that littered the floor.
The great prince of Asgard, and look at you now, fat, dirty and about to burst open like an overripe watermelon. his consciousness taunted him
He tried his best to ignore the words (especially the ones near the end), as he shoved a shard of mirror between his legs, to check the width.
To him, it didn't look that much different from the last time he checked, minutes ago, but what did he know?
He wasn't supposed to give birth, he's been so careful to avoid that at all costs especially because he knew how painful it will be, how dangerous, he didn't even have a vagina most of the times!
But why would you think it matters what you think? No one ever stopped to ask what you want, or what you would like to do with your life.
Mother, mother always cared
He tried to focus on breathing, to brace for the peak as well as he could, but nothing, could have prepared him for this. Unable to control himself he let out a shriek of agony, his fingers dug deep into his enormous belly. he couldn't do this. It was too painful, too miserable, he couldn't, he didn't, how was he supposed to deal with this?
He knew he was going to die, that wasn't the problem anymore, if anything he began to wish he'd die sooner, that the little monster would literally rip him open and crawl out into the light to be stepped on like a bug, to be killed like the disgusting abomination it was.
He felt tears forming in his eyes, and for the first time in his long life, he did not force them away. What was the point?
He would end up a mewling pathetic mess soon enough anyway. Pathetic, dizgracious, abomination, the labor didn't even fully start yet, he wasn't even the least bit dilated, and he already could barely stiffle his screams.
You think you know pain? You would beg, for something as sweet as pain.
Is this what The Other meant by that?
As the minutes and hours passed he could barely imagine anything worse, each contraction feeling like someone was stabbing him in the back, stomach and pelvis all at the same time. Now that the birth was happening, the creature seemed to suddenly be in no rush to exit him, making it's way down the birth canal painstakingly slow.
His body seemed in no rush to relieve Loki of his suffering either. It's been hours, or so it felt to him, and his vagina was barely dilated an inch.
He laid there, wriggling like a warm in pain, clenching his teeth until they broke trying not to scream, but it was too much, too much pain and fear and frustration at this thing inside of him that would not even crawl out already. So he laid there, wriggling on the floor, tears and sweat pouring down his face, whimpering every time he felt a contraction coming, screaming from the top of his lungs as it slowly subsided and the was gone, only to return minutes later. At times, he wasn't even sure where he was or what was happening, the pain occupied all space in his mind. Where was Thor?
What of mother? Couldn't she hear him scream? Couldn't she tell how much pain was he in?
It was only when he would roll on his back, and could feel something huge, like the dozen boulders, like a full calf ready for the slaughter, crushing his ribs, his lungs, stealing his breath until he rolled on his side, that he remembered the cause of his suffering. That he remembered why Thor and mother weren't here to ease his pain.
"Mother," he panted as he made his way out of another wave of pain
"Mother please, please help me. I don't.... I don't want to die alone..."
He screamed as another contraction hit, accompanied by an unmistakable, almost euphoric need to push.
That was it, his nightmare was soon to be over. But he knew, the worst of his torment was yet to come. There was no way he could deliver something this humongous.
He felt himself tear from the effort, blood trickling between his legs in narrow streams, but nothing else happened. The creature's head was pushing against his pelvis, sending shooting pain in his spine and down his legs.
"Please, please," he whimpered
He hasn't prayed since he was a child, since his mother would make him and Thor kneel on each side of hers, hands clasped together and she would beg the gods for health, for their future and whatever else was necessary. He never prayed alone, not even once, he wasn't even sure the gods would listen to a giant's prayer, a giant, a traitor, and a coward, who betrayed everything for a chance to escape Hel. Yet still, he begged, begged for his torment to at least be over soon, before he went into nothingness, where all the other monsters like him went.
As if to answer his prayers, something soft and delicate breached through the fog of pain, settling on his forehead, brushing away the hair from his sweaty brow.
He opened his eyes to see Frigga, kneeled down next to him, her majestic hand cooling off his feverish brow.
"Mother," he breathed, incredulously
She looked down at him, her ocean blue eyes as soft and forgiving as ever, causing tears to form in his eyes.
"Mother I....I am so sorry-"
She took a finger to her lips, sushing him instantly
"It is alright. I know you didn't mean it."
"I am dying."
She opened her mouth, as if to reject the notion, but then just nodded her head.
"It will be over soon," she promised, kissing his temple
She placed a gentle hand on his bulge and in an instant Loki felt himself relaxing, most of the pain completly. He could feel her tense up
"What is it?"
"The fetus, it is too big for you to birth"
Like it wasn't obvious from the size of his belly
"As expected," he sighed, his eyes still closed, "The father is awfully big too."
"I could put you to sleep and cut it out. It could be...painless."
Loki shook his head "I want to try. I want to feel it. Please do not do anything more."
Frigga had a look of surprise
"Why would you want that?"
Before he could answer a stabbing pain hit him, causing the prince to yell out, holding his belly
"It hurts!" he hissed through clenched teeth
"What? It- it shouldn't-"
He could feel mother's hands on him again, the sweet magic seeping into his skin, relieving him of his pain, only for it to return seconds later.
"It's not working." the All Mother gasped, "My magic, it's absorbing it."
"Seems.... about right," Loki rasped as the contraction subsided, "It did the same to my own too."
He felt mother lift his head, the gentle movement making him almost want to cry in relief, after so many months of barely any living interaction, of fear and pain. Mother's lips felt like heaven on his feverish brow. He had to tell her, had to tel her how sorry he was, that she was and will forever be his mother. Had to tell her about what Thanos did. He knew she would never hate him, not really, maybe she would even mourn him, privately, in secret, as the disgrace and filth he was, she wouldn't be allowed to even think of him once the creature inside did him in, but she had to know, he needed to make sure she would understand.
Then his head was placed gently on the floor.
"Mother?!" he called, feeling the panic set in as he heard her move away
"I'm here Loki," she said reassuringly, but he wasn't convinced
He couldn't see past the mountain sitting on his abdomen, but in the corner he could barely see a piece of teal fabric and a smock of her hair
"What are you doing?"
"I need to cut it out, she began, somberly, " It will hurt, there is nothing I can do about the pain, I'm afraid, but once it is out I will be able to close your wound with magic."
Loki shook his head
"No, no please." he begged
"It cannot exit on his own, it will die-"
"Then let it die inside me!" he screamed, groaning as his muscles contracted again
"It will kill you too! Your body will instinctively try to push it out but there's no room. You are already tearing, son, you will bleed out!"
"Let me die then."
He was too exhausted to fight anymore, he didn't know what he will do once he needed to push again, it didn't matter anyway.
"You are in pain, you don't know what you're saying."
He screamed as the knife pierced his skin, a small cut still, something in any other context shouldn't have even deserved acknowledgement. Still, he screamed, bagging her to stop, unable to even wriggle away
Pathetic
Worthless
Disgusting mess
"I want to die." he said
"Be patient, it will be over in a minute."
"Mother, give me your hand."
Nothing.
She could still feel the knife slicing open his stomach, yet somehow it didn't hurt anymore. Hopefully a sign he was soon on his way out. All the more reason he needed to get through to her
"Give me your hand." he called, and was ignored
"I BEG you," he rasped, "Give..me...your hand..."
He lunged as far as he could, and heard his skin rip as he did, he opened his eyes again to see his skin below the belly button handing open like an unzipped purse, that creature inside staring back at him with bloodred eyes.
He threw up
"Done." Frigga said, as she cut the ombilical cord
She looked up at Loki, giving him a reassuring smile
"I will close the would and in a few minutes you will be right as rain."
"I want to die," he groaned
"I know it hurts, but you will feel better soon."
"I want to die," he repeated, the room was spinning, if only he could last long enough to tell her "Please, just...let me..."
"I won't lose you again."
" Your hand....please..." he mumbled
he felt her left hand find his, holding on tight as her right was still working on his injury, and with his last strength he pulled her hand to his forehead, forcing his memories into her brain.
It was torture, having to watch it all happen again, to watch his failures, all over again, to watch Thanos force this curse upon him, watch the pathetic weakling he became unleash hell on people who did not deserve it, then have his own father tell him he shouldn't have been born, all leading up to this moment. How could one be expected to survive after living through so much?
He opened his eyes as 2 droplets fell onto his face, he couldn't see anymore, but he knew she was crying. He was still holding her hand, rubbing gentle circles on her skin with his thumb.
"Why didn't you say anything?"
"He wouldn't have believed me," he whispered
"I would have believed you."
"I know."
"I can still save you."
Please let me save you was what she meant
He shook his head.
"I failed, I succumbed to him...traitor."
He heard something fall, most likely his hand, as he couldn't feel it. but he did feel her lips on his forehead and then her brow on his own
"I love you."
"I.. love you..."
too died on his lips
He heard a gasp escape her lips, then listened to her sob, and then there was nothing