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The recent missions had left Loki pushed to his limits, he could not remember being so challenged as he had been as he was as an avenger. Tonight he lay in bed unable to move after a long luxurious bath, it was like other nights or, so he had assumed.
As he went to run a hand through his hair wondering if perhaps it was finally becoming too long he noticed the skin on his hand and forearm shifting from alabaster to a deep blue. For a moment all he could do was stare transfixed as though he were watching it happen to someone else and not himself.
Then reality came crashing down around him, it wasn’t happening to another person it was happening to him now. He tried commanding his own body to obey him, to have his skin shift back, he had mastered shapeshifting at the age of sixteen he could do this. Yet he could not. His own body betrayed him. More skin shifted from the familiar Aesir to the stranger Jötunn, he panicked.
What would happen when Sigyn saw him like this? Adrenaline surged through his body giving him the strength to kick off his blankets and stumble towards the vanity. He searched the surface of the dark wood furniture, various Midgardian creams and lotions that he and Sigyn were testing lay scattered.
The cosmetics hid in the second draw down, he pulled it open with the ridiculous idea that he could somehow hide his sudden inability to master his own body by caking himself in powders and creams. It might’ve worked if people ignored the crimson eyes ( Sunglasses! He reminded himself) and the raised lines that ran throughout his body.
Oh, and now he had horns? They had not been there before, he was certain that the last time he had been forced to take this form he lacked horns. Suddenly there was a pressure around his head, one he had never noticed before as the horns seemingly sprouted not from his forehead where he first thought they had but from the sides of his head, just above or behind the ears which were now pointed. The horns were a shade of blue so dark and deep they almost looked black.
Panic filled him as his form became less and less Aesir with each passing second, his nails were a dark blue just like his horns, his entire body seemed more sensitive to the heat surrounding him, to the luxurious fabrics he wore.
He could hear Sigyn approach, his hearing had vastly improved, all his senses were heightened he realized stumbling back to the bed and ducking beneath the covers completely covering himself while attempting to force his body to submit to him. Why could he not control his own body?
The door opened, he could smell Sigyn from the lemon based perfumes she favoured to her own natural musk, he could smell Stark’s aftershave and oil, metal and something artificial clinging to her.
She marched on over to the shower slightly more heavy footed than was necessary, it took time, twenty-three minutes, during that time he tried once again to force his body to submit to him. A glimmer of hope came when his fingertips turned paler, but that hope was smothered within a few seconds.
Sigyn was out of the shower, “You were right,” She said in that overly resigned but amused and affectionate way she had whenever having to admit that she was wrong, the goddess of fidelity and victory did not take loosing well. “Stark is good company, I almost want to adopt him.”
Some part of Loki could imagine the scene and Stark accepting, then Sigyn would proudly show off their Midgardian son to all of Asgard and Odin would be forced to endure a Yuletide with Stark… this was starting to sound like a good idea.
A finger prodded at his head, “Did you fall asleep in your armour again?” she asked he pulled the covers tighter around himself desperate for her not to see him like this . “Darling?” Sigyn asked sitting herself down on the bed beside him, his back against her thigh.
She sifted, he felt the blankets being pulled, “DON’T!” he warned her. She listened to his protests releasing the blankets instantly.
A momentary beat passed before she asked him, “What is wrong my love?” her fingers running along the length of his arm.
He shivered unable to respond, how was she going to react? He could not get this form under his control, she had never seen this side of him, it was something he had made sure of.
Sigyn did not abandon him, instead she draped herself over him a comforting weight atop him separated by the warmth of the blanket that used to be sinfully soft against his skin but now seemed rough, harsh. She was no fool, she quickly realized what might be happening and soothed him as best she could with a gentle humming while gently rubbing circles into his back through the blanket.
He could feel the smile gracing his own lips as she somehow managed to squeeze him with her upper body as she remained half draped over him. It seemed so foolish on his part to worry about Sigyn’s reaction, her very nature was loyalty, she was a woman who was understanding, she had stood by him through the best times and the worst.
But this, this was different, this had been forced upon the pair of them, a lie that even the god of lies had not been able to detect. It was not part of their lives until Odin forced it upon them, by then it had been the start of a great downward spiral.
They had found their place side by side once more, but the issue of what he truly was had never been spoken of or addressed. Where once before Thor’s first coronation, before the truth was revealed, they had indulged in the idea of starting a family.
Loki had always teased her that she would make a great mother, and she would, though she often dreaded the idea of carrying on her families habit of having twins. She had been a twin, her mother, grandmother, grandfather and great-grandmother all had been twins.
But the more they had spoken about it the more they had liked the idea, a pair of twins born together, raised together on equal footing. They would never need fear inheriting a throne or whether one parent thought them a mistake. They would be loved and adored, treasured until the end of days. It had been such a nice dream.
“I cannot control it,” he admitted hating how meek he sounded beneath the blankets where he hid. She squeezed him again, “My jötunn form.”
She guessed as much, even at his lowest points Loki had never hid from her like this before. He never spoke of his Jötunn side, this other form, he never wanted to admit it or address it, that was part of the problem. How could they fix something that they never addressed or spoke about?
“In what way can you not control it?” She asked him still rubbing circles in-between his shoulder blades.
If they could not talk about it emotionally than they would boil it down to simple practicality. Not that Sigyn liked this path, she would rather Loki be comfortable and happy in his body regardless of what shape it took. But this was a start.
There were many options, may ways that Loki could explain what was happening yet the best solution was often simplest. He shifted enough that Sigyn pulled herself off of him and then slowly he pulled back the blanket revealing the issue at hand.
Instead of recoiling in horror as most aesir would she inched towards him placing both her palms against each cheek, she greeted him with her usual warmth, that smile made her brighter than he remembered. She leaned into him, her nose brushing up against his the new horns were not dissimilar to the golden horns she was more familiar with.
“I told you,” she taunted before brushing her freckled lips against his deep blue lips. She grinned pleased with herself they both knew she was right. He sat himself against the headboard while she sat by his side facing him, she never stopped smiling. “Rest for the next couple of days and eat plenty, you should regain the strength to reign in your shapeshifting.”
If his brain had not been working against him he might have come to this solution first, instead he forgotten the simplest solution. Rest and recouperation.
He grinned sheepishly, “Does that mean I will be pampered?”
“You know I never miss an opportunity to pamper you my love,” She answered, he could already see her planning how she was going to spoil him. Though stubbornly she would refuse to admit it should anyone ask, I was their private life after all.
They settled into their usual ways with some minor awkwardness, laying his head in her lap she took into account his new features. While she was used to him wearing horns she was used to being able to remove them. Gently at first she tucked hair that had fallen over his face behind his ear careful to avoid the new additions. He still carried tension within his body, anxious that at any moment she would flee. She never would.
They were bound in a way that went beyond marriage, beyond simple love and affection. It was a connection that only fidelity and lies could forge, a relationship built on mischief and victory, they would not be torn apart by this simple blip.
Her fingers traced a ghostly line over the curve of his horn, a violent pleasurable shudder wracked his body, she misunderstood and pulled her hand back afraid that she had hurt or offended him in some way.
Instead, he rolled onto his back, “Do it again,” he urged the black of his pupils blown wide.
“There’s a joke here, something about horns,” Sigyn whispered against the skin of his jaw, Loki had an idea but quickly dropped it when she kissed him again.
In this form everything was new the feel of her was unusually soft and smooth, he had never truly appreciated how soft she felt against him until now. Her fingers traced along the lines running over his ribs and chest, each time she touched him his body shivered in delight.
It was moments like this that awed him, Sigyn loved him , he still could not understand how or why. Theirs was not an easy relationship, neither of them liked easy, but at times Loki knew he pushed Sigyn a little to hard. Most spouses would have left, most would have slammed the door so hard in his face all the realms would feel and hear it.
But here, as Sigyn shifted them, so she could hold him in her arms he forgot his worries just for a moment. The threads of magic that twirled from her fingers like fae dancing on the petals of a flower turned his attentions towards more pleasant things, more delightful memories.
Warm fingers lit by cool blues trailed down his arms, down his spine, she worked her magic soothing each and every physical ache she could. There was a doubt deeply rooted that she would never be able to truly rid Loki of all that plagued him mentally and emotionally.
It strengthened her conviction to remain by his side, to remind him that he deserved love and compassion. That he was worthy of everything she could give him and hoped in return that he found her just as worthy of his love and affections. Somehow she knew he did, they did not need to speak of such things.
Fingers drifted along deep blue skin, like a sapphire caught in the light of the moon his skin shimmered. Freshly fallen snow glittering beneath a pale silver moon came to her mind, the memory of a night spent together in the cold of Midgard where the northern lights overhead gleamed and glittered illuminating the surrounding lands.
They had made love underneath those lights, the cold did not affect Loki as it did her, so he lay in the cold snow enjoying the gasps of pain and pleasure Sigyn rewarded him with when he brushed icy fingers cooled by snow against her nipples.
It was something neither had considered before, the snow and ice was not supposed to illicit pleasure or feelings of warmth and comfort. But Midgard did not believe as Asgard, they welcomed the ice and snow (within reason) choosing instead to celebrate in the warmth but enjoying the cold.
Sigyn preferred Midgard for many reasons, that which was most obvious, here Loki could breathe. Free of expectations from the crowns that knew him, from the realms that would curse and defame him. Here Loki was not completely unburdened, but he walked lighter than he would in other realms.
She wanted to remind him of this, that he was loved and should not need to fear revealing his true self. But logical compassion was overwhelmed by centuries of abuse, Loki may never love his jötunn self and for that and so many other reasons Sigyn would never forgive either Odin, Frigga or Thor.
Loki should not have to live in fear of himself, for himself, but he did, and she desperately wished she could take that from him.
Drawing fingers along the lines of his body Sigyn could not help but marvel at his beauty, she was lost at the moment unable to keep her hands off him. Though in fairness she was like that with Loki regardless of form, gender or sex.
They had once spent an entire day together where Loki was a massive iridescent serpent, he had wound himself around her while she read her books his massive body had been so great that she had to use him as a chair. He had needed an escape, somewhere to hide and Sigyn welcomed him with open arms.
Though when he slithered his way up beneath her jumper, so he could have some sort of skin contact that wasn’t just her hands had been a little vexing. Especially when she needed to get up for any reason. But there was something adorable about Loki’s shimmering emerald form being so snugly wound against her, his inky black tongue flicking out against her collar bone as he nestled himself between her breasts. He made a surprisingly good chair as a snake.
But she drew the line at horses after Loki had attempted to spend the day with her in that form, having to explain why you were having a bath with your wife who was a mare was as about as awkward as anything in the early stages of their marriage. Along the way Sigyn simply lost the ability to feel awkward about being caught in odd situations with Loki.
If her spouse needed comfort she was going to give them comfort regardless of what form they took!
“Do you think being in your jötunn form may influence the way you shapeshift?” she pondered running her fingers through his hair. He always enjoyed someone playing with his hair.
Loki who had been nestled against her chest took a moment to consider this. It wasn’t odd to think that maybe it would, especially if it were simply a case of shifting between sexes and genders. But more complex shapeshifting, animals and creatures, that may not be affected.
“If you wish to see my blue breasts you need only ask,” Loki teased pressing a kiss against her collar bone, his horns bumping a little against her as he did so. Her fingers meanwhile continued to draw small circles into his scalp, he was caught between arousal and sleepiness wondering which would be the first to give out.
Sigyn thought about this, Loki never offered to show his jötunn form to anyone she suspected it was less that he was wiling to show her his breasts and more a joke. She did not press the issue for tonight, she knew the key to handling Loki when he was in states like this, slow and softly. He was not fragile or delicate by any means but that did not mean he did not deserve softness.
Instead, she offered a counter, “Well if you’re offering, I wouldn’t mind you shapeshifting into a tiger could you do that?” she asked, she had recently discovered the amazing mammals and creatures of Midgard and wondered why they had never visited the realm sooner. Oh, yes… Odin.
Loki had previously transformed into Midgardian cats, mostly a black cat to mess with the other avengers whenever the mischievous fancy took him. It was never anything big, at first he was just there inside the compound, Sam would say “Did you see that black cat?” and everyone would look at him like he had gone mad. Innocent pranking.
She had missed his innocent pranks, the ones made to entertain him and those around him. The days when they were all a lot more innocent and a lot less afraid, as a young teen Loki had always tried to win Sigyn over with his pranks. More often than not they backfired, but he had won her over by being able to laugh or walk it off. Not many (especially the men) in Asgard had the ability to do that.
It was not simply selfishness that drove Sigyn to request Loki shapeshift into a tiger, a form that he never took before which would therefore pose a challenge but because after the distraction of concentration he may be in another form that would free him from the insecurities that his jötunn brought about.
However, Loki shook his head, “Not without studying the creature beforehand,” that, or he was too exhausted and didn’t want to admit it. Sigyn pondered this as she stroked her fingers along the length of his spine.
“Then how about an old favourite?” she suggested. She could feel him vibrate, whether in relief or excitement she didn’t know, all that mattered was he was slowly being pulled away from the less cheerful thoughts and feelings this form inspired.
Well she didn’t need to ask twice, did she? It might not be a tiger but as Loki shifted into a snake he wound himself around her and held her firmly in the coils of his body. She used her magic to toss a blanket over the pair of them, his long neck and body acting as her new warm pillow made of iridescent emerald scales.
She smiled when his adorable snout tucked itself upon her neck, his tongue flicking out against her ear lobe, an affectionate gesture she had come to adore whenever he spent time as a serpent. Sigyn smiled drawing her hands over as much of his huge body as she could, there was too much of him as this particular snake. His entire body so large parts of him hung off the bed. The flicks of his forked inky tongue slowly tapered off until they came to a stop.
A smile spread across her lips as she felt the tightly wound body relax, no longer burdened by reality Loki was safe in his dreams. She would make sure of it, the gentle suggestion of magic from her would always protect him from his nightmares of which there seemed legion.
It wasn’t long before she too found the siren song of sleep within the coils of her spouse, her greatest love. Her last waking thoughts were of tomorrow where she promised to make his favourite food.
That at least should assist in his recouperation.