“What if my love for you is my punishment?” Loki/Sigyn (I'd love Understanding the Storm bc I am predictable, but as you like!)
To love is to fear loss
Loki/Sigyn, from the future of the “Understanding the Storm” ‘verse
Loki gets some news.
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"I have joyful news," Sigyn said, smiling at him with such light in her eyes he could see nothing else at first. Her hand slipped down the front of her gown to lay over her abdomen. "I'm with child."
There was a roar in his ears, in his mind, and he could only stare at her in helpless confusion. "No," he said, shaking his head in denial. "You can't be."
She gave a little laugh. "You were there. Come, my love, you can sense the life, too." She held out her other hand, to draw him near.
He took a step back, instead of toward her, panic clawing at his throat. "No, no, you can't. It's too dangerous." His blood was... damaged, broken, how could it create anything but a monstrosity? Or death?
He couldn't breathe. She could die. This child could kill her, take her from him, and then the child would die, and he'd have nothing. It was a cruel jest, it had to be, to offer him everything and now pull it away.
He turned away, fists clenched, knowing he was ruining her joy and hating himself for that, too, but wasn't that just proof this was wrong? That the Norns were punishing him for being happy and now they were threatening it all?
Her arms slid around his waist from behind and she leaned her head against his shoulder. "I feel your fear," she murmured. "But let it go. It will be well, beloved. This is a gift, not a curse. Eir has already said the babe and I are healthy."
He turned around to hold her against him, closing his eyes and shaking his head against hers. "How?" his voice was hoarse and he didn't know what he was really asking. "How?"
How do I let go of the terror that this love will destroy me if I lose it?
Her hand was soft on his neck, rubbing gently, and he knew she would touch her child exactly the same way. "We're not going anywhere." After a few moments, his breathing settled and the fear, if not gone, had at least faded. She sensed that and took one hand in hers, and laid it on her stomach. "You can sense our child, too, Loki. This is hope made flesh. Feel it and you'll know."
Her hand held his larger hand against the silk. At first he didn't want to look - didn't want to make that tie, as if pretending it wasn't real meant it wouldn't exist - but then... somehow, without any conscious decision, he felt ... a brightness. A warmth. The strands of seidr were knotted right there, beneath his hand, tiny and golden and perfect.
He sank to his knees before her, both hands now covering the tiny light within, and he leaned his head against it, tears slipping down his cheeks.
Her fingers smoothed his hair. "You see? This isn't a threat of loss; it's a promise of life. We made this miracle."
Old reflex wanted to deny that he could have any part of such a wonder, but he pushed it away by concentrating on what he sensed. And it was a wonder, this miracle child of four Realms, to prove none of them were that different. All things were possible now.
"Hello, little one," he whispered to the fragile flame. "I can't wait to meet you."
