Title: Cuckoldry
Character(s): Loki/Zisa
Pantheon(s): Norse
Rating: PG
Summary: The wife of Tyr pays Loki a late night visit.


A faint rapping at the door to his hall drew Loki from his comfortable seat by the fire toward it's source. It was night, early enough that visitors were not wholly uncommon, but late enough where few would do so without prior invitation. None of who would do so carried a knock so delicate. He was given not a chance to speak before a hushed voice quickly questioned, “Where's Sigyn?” The figure was shrouded in a heavy cloak, face only becoming distinguishable as it stepped into the light pouring out from the doorway.

He blinked a few times, eyes adjusting to the dark beyond his door, before answering. “She retired near to an hour ago and I intend to leave her that way. Unless it is of some urgency, Zisa, I suggest you return in the morning. I will not wake her.” He motioned to shut the door, indicating that there was nothing he would consider urgent enough to warrant waking his wife.

The goddess' foot took root in the door frame, not allowing him to shut her out. “Good, I wish to speak with you anyway. Alone.” Her eyes darted back and forth a few times, looking around herself to see if she was being watched. “Out here even the trees have ears, may I come in?” Curiosity got the better of Loki, as it often did, and he stepped aside allowing Zisa entrance to his hall. Once the door was closed she dropped her hood and moved near the fire to warm herself. The nights were growing colder, winter fast approaching. “She's not handling it well, then?” She asked while rubbing her hands together.

“As well as can be expected. If fatigue and moodiness become her only side-effects, Sig will be lucky.” Loki lifted a pitcher toward Zisa in offering of beverage. She declined with a nod and began pacing nervously. “But somehow I do not think you are here to discuss the early stages of my wife's pregnancy.” He poured himself a liberal helping, having the suspicion he was going to need it.

The dark-haired goddess sat herself in the nearest chair and tucked her hands into her lap. “Sweet Sigyn. No more honorable, faithful or loyal goddess exists within our walls.”

“You discredit yourself?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. “What have you done to warrant that, Zisa?”

“It's not what I've done, it's what I am going to do.” Her voice dropped considerably in volume, head tipping forward in shame. She paused for the longest time before bringing her eyes up to meet Loki's. “I want a child.”

The Trickster blinked, shock not showing on his face. Why bring such a conversation before him? “I believe you have a husband with which to discuss such matters. Carry on this conversation with him.”

Zisa sighed, her gaze turning back to the hands that were fiercely knitting themselves together on her lap. “Tyr and I have discussed it. That is not the issue. But Loki, long years have passed and still my belly does not swell. My husband has resigned himself to the notion that I am barren. I know that it cannot be true.” Her hands clutched her stomach, as if by words alone she could assure the falsity of Tyr's assumption.

“Whether your fields lay barren or his seed not strong enough to take root is no concern of mine. What does this have to do with me?”

“My husband takes leave tomorrow into Jotunheim with Thor and Odin. While I have intentions to lay with him both this eve and upon his return, I ask...” Zisa's voice wavered a bit, both nervous and ashamed of what she was about to ask of him. “I ask that you come to me in his absence in hopes that I may conceive.”

“You have no idea what you ask of me.” He snarled and slammed his mug down, standing from his chair. “I do not sire bastards. I never have and I never will. I am not some hound pressed to mate simply because the bitch is in heat. Find another stud to service you.” Loki moved around the room, stopping in front of her and gesturing that it was best if she took her leave.

“Believe me,” The goddess stood but instead of leaving pressed forward, hands clasped together as she pleaded with him. “Were there anyone else I could trust with this, I would not have brought it before you.”

Trust was a funny thing. It was doled out sparingly by Loki himself and placed at his feet with even less frequency. His eyes narrowed as she begged before him “Why? The consequences alone are reason for me to deny you. Your marriage, mine, reputations... all this could be destroyed in an instant. Why do you ask this of me like a desperate fool?”

“You would not be suspect. There is no reason for anyone to challenge my child's parentage. You have no bastard children roaming the world at large as the others do. I have never strayed from my bed and you've made no attempts to change that.”

“Things can change, my intentions can change.” The look burning in his eyes was filled with doubt, anger and above all... mild offense.

“They won't.” She assured. “All of your lovers have held some level of attraction in your eyes. This I know, women talk. You have never even looked at me as a woman, let alone a potential mate.” Zisa sighed again and turned away. “I am not a fool. I know I am not fair. I have not the body you prefer. The skalds will never sing of my beauty.” Returning to face him, her eyes sad and desperate. “Please, Loki. I have no where else to go. Tyr will be this child's father in every respect except biological. You will have no commitment to it.”

One hand pressed against her back as Loki forced her toward the door. “You come to my home and have the nerve to beg me to grace your bed like a whore desperate for gold while my wife carrying my legitimate child sleeps but a room away. You ask me to risk my marriage and reputation to sire a child on you, a child I cannot claim. A bastard that I am then to forget is mine. You, Zisa, are mad.” Rudely and perhaps with a bit more force than intended, he shoved her into the night. “Go back to your husband, Zisa, and leave me be.”

“Please, Loki.” She begged again. “Consider it, that's all I ask.” The door shut and she was left in the dark.

Inside, with nothing but a wave of his hand, the flames all but extinguished, leaving a hot bed of coals in the main hall. They were white hot, as the coals of a winter hearth fire should be, and would still be burning enough come morning to ignite fresh wood. Not that it was a concern of one who was born of the fire giants as he could just as easily start it back up from nothing.

Moving down to where Sigyn slept peacefully, he tended the coals there, spreading them about so they would burn evenly and not consume their resources too quickly and suffocate. Behind him, from the bed, she sat up carefully and studied her husband by the dim light. “I heard voices. Was someone here?”

“Only Zisa.” He answered quietly, not yet looking at her.

“At this hour? What could she possibly have wanted this late? Why didn't you wake me?” Her voice showed obvious concern. Had something happened?

“She came to see me.” With a resigned sigh, Loki moved to the bed and sat beside her. “There was no need to disturb you. You need your rest.” He brushed her hair from her face lovingly. Anyone who held doubt in the affection he genuinely felt for his wife was a fool.

Sigyn tried to smile, though the news that another woman was seeking out her husband was disturbing. Instinctively, her head nuzzled into his welcome touch. “What did she want?”

Without skipping a beat or forethought, a twisted version of the truth spilled from his lips. “Apparently Tyr is leaving with Odin and Thor tomorrow. She worries for him, the silly woman. She wants me to take his place....”

“Doesn't a woman carry the right to worry for her husband?” She asked, resting her head upon his shoulder and twining her arms around him. “I worry for you when you're gone.”

“And well you should. However, unlike Tyr, I have a propensity for ending up in situations that could cost me more than just my hand.” Loki smoothed her hair a bit before placing a soft kiss on her brow. “He is more than capable of handling himself, even with the handicap.”

~@~@~@~

A large owl soared through the night air, but prey was not on his mind. Many a mouse skittered about on the land below, not unnoticed but ignored. No, he was searching for roost and roost he found on a windowsill. Curiously, the owl pressed past the drapery and into the room beyond. Save a few candles and a small fire in it's proper place, the room was dark and quiet. “I knew you'd come, shapechanger.” Zisa's soft voice came from the corner.

As she stepped out of the dark in a shift so thin it could have been transparent, the owl's form wavered and grew until Loki stood before her. It wasn't until her hands reached as if to undress him that he spoke. “There will be rules regarding this... charade. One, this never happened. I was never here. No one will know if it, we will never speak of it.” Terms laid on any liaison were rare to come from Loki. Usually the terms came from his would-be bedmate.

Slowly, in indication that she understood and accepted everything he would say, Zisa undressed him. It was her idea, therefore her effort. “Two, I will not, under any circumstances, kiss you on the mouth. That implies either lust or affection and occasionally both, none of which I harbor for you. Three, I will make no effort to your pleasure. This is a means to ensure the satisfaction of a desired ends and nothing more.” During all of this, he took no steps in assisting her. “Four, when all is said and done, I leave. I have a wife to attend to. Five, no matter what I might ever say, you are to deny my siring this child. Understand that you have nothing to gain by claiming it's true father and everything to lose.

“And six,” this he delivered with his trademark mischievous smirk as she pulled her shift off, “you will have to rouse me. If you succeed, you get your rut. If not, I go home.”

For nine nights this scene replayed. Each time he came through the window, each time he repeated his rules of engagement, each time she succeeded in rousing him properly and each time they coupled. Immediately following, he always gathered himself and returned home to the wife slumbering peacefully unaware in their marital bed. Months later his legitimate son would be born. Shortly thereafter another child came into the world, one who would never know he had siblings. No one would know. Not unless Loki or Zisa spoke of it.

Until that time, he would be Tyr's son.