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november-rayne · 9 months

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Chapter Twenty-Seven: Sigyn's Virtue

Summary: Sigyn's faith is tested. Could this be the end of Loki's happily ever after?

Word Count: 2500

Rating: Mature

*This story is for mature audiences only.* 18+

*Minors DNI*

Tags: unplanned pregnancy, mentions of termination of pregnancy

Chapter Index

Fidelity

/fə deləde̅/

noun

Definition: faithfulness to a person, cause, or belief, demonstrated by continuing loyalty and support

Loki raised his gaze from Sera’s belly back to her eyes. They were pleading, desperate. He stood up straighter and steeled himself; he looked directly at the King, “Again, what is this about?”

Odin gave him an exasperated sigh, “I will give you one more opportunity to send Sigyn away so we may settle this matter privately.”

Loki’s grip tightened on her hand. He looked at her; his face was apologetic.

Sigyn touched his neck and pulled him down to kiss his forehead. She rested her head against his and whispered, “It is ok. You can send me away if you want to. Or I can stay if you need me to. I love you, Loki Odinson. Nothing is going to change that. Whatever happens in this room today will not change that. Do you understand me?”

He took a slow breath, “I do not deserve you.” He whispered back, his eyes closed.

“Tell that to the Norns. You believe yourself wiser than the Nornir who saw fit to bring us together? Or my heart that swells to bursting when I think of you?”

“Sigyn, I…” he raised his head to look at her. He could not finish his sentence. What he saw took his breath away.

Sigyn was surrounded, head to toe, in a sky-blue glow. Heatless azure flames licked her skin. Light danced around her, pushing away from her. It was emanating from her, originating from deep within her. He had seen flashes of it in her eyes before, but now it was surrounding her.

Fidelity.

Loki pried his eyes from her to look at his father; he was leaning forward on the throne. Sights set intently on Sigyn.

“Send for the Queen,” Odin ordered without taking his eyes off her.

“Right away, sire.” Henrik motioned to the messenger.

Confusion set in on Sigyn’s face as Loki picked up her hand, turning it to and fro, admiring the patterns the light made on her skin.

“Do you not see it?” he whispered.

She held her hands out in front of herself. “What am I looking for? Loki, what are you on about?”

He shook his head in response, “We can talk about that later.” He kissed her palm and placed it on his cheek. “I have no right to ask you this but, will you stay by my side? Will you stay here with me? For me?”

“Of course, my love.” She ran her thumb across his cheekbone.

Loki turned back to the King, “Sigyn is staying.”

“Very well,” Odin nodded curtly. Sitting back on his throne. “This woman claims that you are the father of her unborn child.”

“That is simply not possible,” Loki replied matter-of-factly. He heard Sera scoff beside him.

Odin eyed him carefully, “Are you telling me you never brought this woman into your bed?”

“I am telling you,” he took a deep breath, “that I took precautions.”

“Magic?”

“Yes.”

Odin was thoughtful for a moment, “Has your seiðr ever failed you before?”

“Yes,” Loki answered truthfully, “but never in those instances. I would never take such a gamble.”

Odin drummed his fingers on the arms of his throne. He turned his attention to Sera, “Young lady, is it possible that another man could have fathered this child?”

Loki focused intently on her face as she answered, “No, Your Majesty.”

“She is lying!”

“Your Highness, no, please.” Sera shook her head, “I have taken no lovers since you. My Prince, please. No one after you. No one could ever-”

“Finally, an honest statement. But that does not mean that is my child.”

“It cannot be anyone else. It just can’t be.” Tears started streaming down her face.

“Another lie! Just because you wish something to be true does not make it so! Father, her timing could not be more suspect.”

Odin nodded, “Are you familiar with the laws of succession, girl?”

“Only what I remember from school, Your Majesty.”

The Queen walked quickly through the side entrance. “What is so urgent?” She stopped in her tracks when she saw Sigyn. “Norns…”

Sigyn’s aura had retreated somewhat, but she still had a sky-blue halo of light circling her head.

Frigga pulled Sigyn into a hug before she had a chance to curtsey. “Oh, you precious girl. This is wonderful!” The Queen released her and clasped their hands together in front of her heart.

Sigyn’s confused expression and the woman's sobs to Loki’s other side jolted Frigga back into the moment, “What is going on?” She asked the King, “Is this not why you called me here?”

He gave a grave shake of his head, “We have another matter to discuss first.”

“What could be more important than-”

“Later, Frigga.” He motioned for her to join him.

“I see. Very well, someone, please fill me in.”

Frigga settled into her seat beside the King and nodded for him to continue as she straightened her skirts.

“This woman came to the palace today to claim that Prince Loki is the father of her unborn child. He admits to knowing her and taking her to bed but refutes that the child could not be his because he used seiðr to prevent such an event from occurring. The woman denies taking any other lovers. Loki sensed falsehood in her statement. Then you arrived.”

Frigga nodded slowly, her thoughts tumbling like pebbles in the surf. “I have questions.”

“By all means,” Odin motioned to Sera.

“What is your name, dear?”

“My name is Sera Nilsen, Your Majesty.” She curtsied shakily.

“And how do you know my son?”

“I… Prince Loki employed me as his chambermaid.”

Frigga narrowed her eyes. “Loki, is this the same woman who snuck into your chambers on the day of your betrothal?”

“Yes, Mother. But nothing happened.”

Sera huffed quietly.

“Nothing happened that would result in pregnancy.” Loki amended as he threw his hand up in defense. “She tried to seduce me, but I sent her away, heeding your warning, Mother.”

“But you do not deny sharing a bed with this girl before that day?”

“I do not deny it.”

“More than once?”

"Yes.” He hung his head, anticipating the line of questioning to come.

“How many times?”

Loki swallowed hard, not meeting his mother’s eyes, “It is impossible to say. It was almost every day while I employed her. Multiple times per day...” Sigyn’s hand clenched around his arm, and he felt her go rigid at his side.

“And you are certain your contraceptive charm could keep up with that much activity?”

Loki ran his hand down his face, “I renew it as often as needed. I never proceed until I feel it take effect. After all these centuries, it almost feels wrong when I do not use it.”

“There are occasions when you do not use it?” Frigga tilted her head in concern.

Loki sighed, “Not all lovers can conceive children, Mother.”

“Yes, right.” Her hands busied themselves on the arms of the throne while she tried to remember her next set of questions. “When did the affair start?”

“I object to you calling it an affair.”

Frigga took a deep breath and counted to five in her head to regain her patience, “When did her employment start?”

Loki looked to the ceiling, “Roughly five months ago? Give or take a week. The employment records would have the exact date.”

“Is that an accurate estimate, Sera?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“And how far along into your pregnancy are you now?”

“I…I am unsure, Your Majesty.”

“A lie,” Loki protested. “Mother, she is willfully withholding information.”

“Sera, you must realize that it is futile to lie or lie by omission. You are leveling a very serious allegation here; we must have all the facts.”

“I am uncertain because I have yet to visit a midwife, Your Majesty.”

“Why would you put off seeing a midwife?”

Fresh tears spilled down her pretty face. “I am afraid to say.”

“Go on, child. You must continue.”

She took a few deep breaths, “I did not wish to see a midwife. I went to see a witch instead.”

“A witch?” Odin asked, “Why would a pregnant woman visit a witch instead of a midwife?”

“Because not all pregnant women wish to become mothers,” Frigga replied.

“Please,” she wiped her snotty nose with her hand, “Please have mercy on me. I drank the secret tea, and I prayed to the Norns to take the child back from me. But it did not work. And now,” she motioned to her tiny bump, “it will come regardless. I have no husband; I have no parents. I did not want this. I only wanted to be of service to the Prince. I have nowhere else to go. The Prince has always been so kind to me…” She sobbed uncontrollably.

Sigyn released Loki and went to the weeping woman’s side. “Hey,” She gently put her hand on her shoulder. Sera looked up in surprise, “You did the right thing by coming here.” Sigyn gave her a reassuring smile. “You should not have to endure this alone.” She rubbed one hand on Sera’s back and held the other out to Loki, “Handkerchief,” she demanded without looking at him.

He gaped at her momentarily before conjuring a handkerchief and placing it in her open palm.

“Now dry your tears. We are going to get this all sorted out.”

“Thank you, My Lady.”

Sigyn took the time to look her over. Her shoes were worn thin. She could feel her bones through the thin material of her dress as she rubbed her back. “Did you walk the entire way here?”

Sera nodded.

“Your feet must be sore. Do you want to take a break?”

“She needs to finish answering our questions.” The King interjected.

“She needs a warm meal and a fresh change of clothes! She needs somewhere to sit and rest. She came here out of desperation, and you are treating her like she is on trial!”

The King and Queen stared back at Sigyn in stunned silence.

“She is not a criminal! She is scared and needs our help. A piece of Loki could be trying to survive in her, needing sustenance, safety, and security. Bastard, it may be, but that does not change the fact it might be your first grandchild.” The radiance of her virtue flared brightly from her body anew.

Frigga brought her hand to her mouth to cover her gasp.

Sigyn stepped in front of Sera protectively, “She will not answer another question until she is offered a modicum of hospitality.”

Loki could only stare, shifting his focus nervously back and forth between Sigyn and the King, both wearing the same expression of fierce determination. The longer the silence hung in the air, the more anxious he became, unsure if he should say something to dissolve the tension.

Henrik stared straight ahead, eyes fixed on some point on the back wall. He was looking as if he may pass out at any moment.

The Queen folded her hands in her lap and kept her expression neutral.

Sigyn crossed her arms over her chest and doubled down on her rebellion by jutting her chin out slightly as if daring the King to reprimand her.

The chimes in the palace rang, signaling the eight o’clock hour.

Odin never took his eyes off Sigyn as he spoke, “Henrik, send a message to Thor to start the feast. Send our apologies to the guests regarding our absence.”

“Right away, sir.” Henrik looked relieved as he exited the dais to the messenger.

The King looked away first, standing and offering his hand to his wife, “We will all retreat to the small council room. Follow me.”

Sigyn helped Sera climb the steps and cross the dais to the room tucked behind the throne. Loki followed close behind. The King seated himself at the head of the table, Frigga to his right, Loki to his left. The younger women chose seats slightly further down from Loki.

Odin sat back in his seat and nodded to Frigga. Henrik entered, and Odin motioned for him to come closer. Henrik nodded as he listened to the King’s instructions, then took off again.

“There will be tea and platters brought up momentarily,” Frigga announced. “Could you answer a few more questions while we wait?” She addressed Sera with a gentler expression.

“Yes, Your Majesty. Thank you, Your Majesty,” she replied, grateful to finally be off her feet.

Frigga folded her hands on the top of the opulent table. She organized her thoughts before speaking.

“Sera, the Crown sympathizes with your situation. Personally, it breaks my heart to see someone in such distress. We will do everything we can to ensure your health and the health of your unborn child as citizens of Asgard.” She splayed her hands wide on the glossy tabletop, “With that being said, I must explain to you the potential problems this news causes our family and the political ramifications this could bring.”

Sera nodded in understanding.

The Queen motioned to Sigyn, “Sigyn, by law, cannot inherit her father’s lands or title outright. However, her husband may inherit them in her name. The line of succession begins again with the birth of Loki’s first male heir.

“If this child is Loki’s, born after Sigyn becomes his wife, and happens to be a boy, then, by law, the child could claim rights to the title when Loki dies. Ending the Anderson pedigree connected to those lands. Given the new information presented, Lord Anderson would be well within his rights to call off the wedding now to keep the title in his bloodline.”

Sigyn was livid but kept her voice neutral, “Just so I understand this correctly, your Majesties, did I just hear that a common bastard male would have more claim to my familial lands than myself, a high-born legitimate female or any of our legitimate children born after him?”

“The laws of succession state lands and titles go to the first male heir,” Odin replied.

“Apologies, Your Majesty, but that is ignorant and antiquated.”

Odin slammed his fist on the table, “It is the law!”

“The law is fucked!”

Loki stood abruptly and held out his hand. “It has been a long day for everyone. Let us finish this business so we may retreat to our respective chambers and get a good night's sleep in our own beds.” He looked at Sigyn with an expression that told her to drop it for now.

She nodded curtly and leaned back in her chair. “Apologies, My King. I have no excuse for my offensive language. I should not have said that out loud. I am simply beside myself over the mention of canceling the wedding.”

Odin gave her a sardonic smile, picking up the sarcasm in her apology, “You are forgiven. But you will mind your tongue from here on out.”

“Yes, My King.”

“Let me put an end to this discussion right now.” Loki quickly stepped behind Sera and placed his hand on the side of her head as he closed his eyes. Sera gasped briefly before her expression went blank, her jaw went slack, and she slumped in her seat.

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muffinlance · 1 year

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Kidnapped Zuko? Rescued by Gaang who dont know who he is and he has to hide his identity.

Okay, so. There’s already a teenager down in Commander Muttonchop’s brig. This fact is so far past concerning it’s wrapped around to let’s-not-think-too-hard-about-this hilarity, and Sokka finds himself grinning, and offering the guy a good ol’ fashioned Water Tribe wrist shake through the bars. They’re neighbors, after all.

“Hello, Fellow Prisoner. What are you in for?”

“I, uh,” says Fellow Prisoner, who is clearly undersocialized from his time in here. He’s looking a little grimy around the edges of his all-black outfit, and the bruises on him have had time to get newer, fresher bruises on top, which is just. That is all kinds of reassuring. Oh, and the giant fiery facial scar. Also reassuring. Though at least that one’s a few years old. So… inflicted when he was, what, Aang’s age?

So reassured, is feeling Sokka, for the Fire Nation’s upcoming hospitality.

“Uh,” repeats Fellow Prisoner, who is uncoiling a little in the direction of Sokka’s offered hand. As if Sokka was trying to coax him out, and hadn’t just sort of forgotten he was holding it there while his thoughts were doing their downward spiral. But hey, one man’s desperate attempts to keep his cool were another man’s offer of friendship. Fellow Prisoner grasped his wrist and shook it, in both the most technically correct and least experienced Water Tribe wrist clasp Sokka has ever experienced.

“Zhao thinks I was stealing military correspondence,” the guy says.

“Were you stealing military correspondence?” asks Sokka.

“Only his,” scowls Fellow Prisoner, to whom Sokka takes an immediate liking. “...What did you do? To get arrested. But not killed. He doesn’t usually…”

So, so reassured.

“Oh, you know,” Sokka says, continuing to shake wrists, because it is becoming clear that Fellow Prisoner has no idea how long this is supposed to last and Sokka isn't going to be the one to stop him. “The usual. Found the Avatar. Became traveling companions. Got captured doing something definitely heroic that did not in anyway involve excessive screaming of an unmanly pitch.”

“...The Avatar?” says Fellow Prisoner, who clearly knows how to focus on the important points.

“I’m bait,” says Sokka.

“For the Avatar.”

To be fair, Sokka is still a little stuck on that point, too. It’s been a few weeks, but he still wakes up too-hot in the night and wondering why the stars above him aren’t quite right.

“Yep,” he confirms.

Fellow Prisoner’s face does a thing. A sort of processing, processing, processing thing that involves progressively more scowling. “The Avatar left you? I knew the old man must be a coward.”

“So,” Sokka says, “about that.”

Fellow Prisoner drinks up Sokka’s story like a man who’s spent three years in a desert searching for water.

- - -

(It’s been two and half years.)

- - -

Their escape involves a significantly higher swords-to-escapees ratio than Sokka had anticipated, which is distractingly epic.

Also, the last-minute bison save is both the stupidest thing his little sister could have possibly done and very welcome, which means that Sokka is going to catch his breath and let some of his adrenaline fade before channeling his inner Gran-Gran for a lecture.

Fellow Prisoner sheaths both his swords. And kind of stares, rather than sitting down, so Sokka pulls him over before the bison turbulence (read: catapult dodging) can do the job. This does nothing to interrupt the staring.

“Hi,” says Aang, looking back from Appa’s head. “I’m Aang! What’s your name?”

“...Li?”

Under the sunlight, Fellow Prisoner’s eyes glint gold. He is… very Fire Nation-y looking, now that there is enough light to see him. And he is warmer against Sokka’s side than anyone not feverish should be, even in the ridiculous heat these northerners call ‘winter’.

“Are you a firebender?” asks Aang, like that question hasn’t spent decades earning its status as an insult.

“Uh,” says Li.

“Great!” says Aang, who has already figured out Li-speak. “I need a teacher!”

On the deck below them, Zhao has gone from shouting to laughing.

Sokka continues to be reassured.

#Zuko: I will definitely not ruin this for myself #also Zuko: *immediately gets declared a traitor to his nation AND burns bridges with the Gaang*#Sokka: oh my god he's literally a hot idiot #And There Was Only One Braincell #this doesn't have to be Zukka but boy did I want to use that tag #Avatar The Last Airbender #atla #Zuko #Fellow Prisoner Li #ficlet

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