Chapter 1
Loki Odinson, second prince of Asgard, god of mischief, chaos and fire, the most powerful seidr dróttinn in all the Nine Realms, was pregnant. Worse than that, he was a woman!
It was his own fault. No, he was not a loose trollop who liked to shape-shift and sleep around and suddenly found himself in "trouble." It was nothing that base. What happened was quite noble. Beautiful, even.
His wife, his only-ever love, Sigyn, had been four and a half months pregnant when she suffered a fall. She had been injured badly, and they feared for her life. In order for her to be saved, Loki had to transform himself into his wife and transfer the unborn twins to his womb. His womb! Merciful Norns.
Being female and pregnant was no great shakes, as Loki was quickly learning. He felt ruddy awful all the time, the yet-to-be-born princes were torturing him, and his wife, whom they had transformed to look like Loki, was being awfully damn smug about the whole situation.
Five months pregnant:
"Your son is completely evil," Loki hissed at his wife. He flung his small, heavily pregnant female body onto the settee in their quarters in a dramatic fashion.
Sigyn, having the raw nerve to stand there looking like Loki, gave him a slightly disapproving stare. Loki had only been pregnant for a couple of weeks. She didn't recall complaining so much when it had been her carrying the twins. But the miserable-looking man had sacrificed much to save her and their unborn twins from death. Sigyn would indulge him in anything until their sons were safely born.
"Which one?" she asked, knowing what he would say.
Loki glared. It was still disconcerting for Sigyn to see her husband looking like her, stomach protruding as he waddled around, complaining about everything under the sun. He pouted, which he was getting very good at, and touched his stomach on the right side.
"This one," he tattled. "The bigger one. He's forever squirming and kicking and curling up under my ribs! Wicked brat!"
Right side baby, of course, Sigyn snickered. He and the baby on the right had a bit of a rivalry going. She walked over and placed her hand on top of his, which was still resting on his stomach.
"My poor Loki," she teased, smiling.
"Do not mock me," Loki warned, narrowing his eyes like Frigga did. "I am not in the mood. I promise that this child will rue the day that he abused me so!"
Now Sigyn laughed. "And what shall you do to my baby, big bad Loki? On his tenth birthday, will you gift him with a pony, wait five minutes and then take it away from him?"
Loki's eyes lit up. "An excellent suggestion, but not immediate enough."
Sigyn scoffed. She stood back, crossing her arms over her chest.
"However, I shall keep it in mind, in case I can think of nothing worse," Loki grumbled.
"You would never harm our child," said Sigyn with confidence.
"Oh no? Well, I happened to think of the most terrible thing I can do to him. It would be the ultimate revenge."
The look on his face was making her nervous. "And what would that be?"
"I could name him 'Thor,'" Loki grumbled, rubbing at the spot on his sore stomach beneath which the troublesome babe was nestled.
Sigyn gave a phony, horrified gasp, then burst out laughing. Loki's mood soured when his wife patted him on top of his curly red head.
"Love you," she said as she sauntered off.
"Don't believe you," Loki called after her.
He glared down at his belly. He was twice as big as normal because it was twins. "I vow I shall never be pregnant again!"
The bad child delivered an irritating, fluttery kick. Loki growled.
Five months and three weeks pregnant:
Loki had just had the most boring day. Being pregnant was dull! He was too big to participate in any of his favorite activities. No camping, no fishing, definitely no horseback riding. Pregnancy was the worst.
That afternoon, Sigyn waltzed into their quarters after having been gone for hours. Her male body---Loki's body, if he really thought about it---had no such restrictions. She could and did do whatever she wanted. She smelled like sunshine and horses, and she looked far too happy to Loki. He instantly became jealous.
"Just where have you been, Sigyn Freyjadottir?" Loki couldn't help but snap.
Sigyn raised her (husband's) left eyebrow and went over to the wardrobe. She opened it and began to dig through Loki's clothes, looking for a fresh tunic. The one she was wearing was sweaty. She was going to wash up before supper, too.
"I went out riding with Thor and Sif," she answered. "Why are you upset? I needed to be outside."
"Sif," Loki scoffed. "You know you're destroying my reputation by being nice to Sif and the Morons Three. They would become suspicious if they shared more than half a brain between the four of them."
Sigyn laughed brightly. She selected a light green tunic and went through to the washroom. Loki followed.
"My love," she said, standing in front of the wash basin, "you've become quite interesting since you've been pregnant."
Loki sneered. "I don't feel interesting. I feel like rubbish. I'm exhausted! Women definitely get the worst of this reproduction...thing."
"Thank you for acknowledging that, my love," said Sigyn. She took his hand and squeezed it.
"It's not fun," Loki sighed, "but I had to do it. I couldn't let you all die."
"You saved all of our lives, my husband," Sigyn said gratefully, "and I will never forget it. I would kiss you right now, but..."
She crinkled her nose and Loki laughed.
"Yes, it would be too strange being kissed by you when you look like me, even though I have to admit I do look good," Loki said smugly.
"Conceited thing," Sigyn teased. They laughed together, then she said, "I love you terribly, Loki Odinson. You know that, don't you?"
Loki smiled softly. "I do."
Six months pregnant:
"What can I do?" Sigyn called through the closed washroom door.
Her husband didn't answer. Sigyn only heard more retching sounds. She waited until it abated somewhat.
"Morning sickness is unusual this late in a pregnancy," she told her suffering spouse.
More retching. Poor Loki!
"Though it's not unheard of."
A miserable groan reached her ears. Something occured to her.
"You are aware that there are several things you can't eat, are you not? I told Frigga---"
"Dear Norns, cannot you not go away?" Loki whined.
"You ate shellfish or chocolate!" Sigyn accused, highly offended.
A beat, then, "No, I didn't!"
"Little liar! Or did you drink wine?"
Silence.
"Loki! Tell me you didn't!"
"Shut up! I did not drink wine! Why is it that you don't trust me after a hundred and fifty-seven years together?"
Sigyn had no chance to answer, because Loki moaned and started throwing up again. When he stopped, she said, "Do you want to go to the healing room for a little while? It could help."
She heard water splashing. He didn't answer.
"Loki?"
"What?"
He sounded miserable.
"Sweetie, let's go see Eir," Sigyn suggested. "Surely she can do something."
"All right," Loki answered. Then he opened the door and came out. Sigyn was alarmed at the green tint of his complexion.
She put her arm around her husband's shoulders (would she ever get used to being taller than him?) and they began to walk out of the room.
She asked, "It was shellfish, wasn't it?"
Loki sighed. "Yes."
"Oh, Loki..."