The Loki System

Chapter sixteen: Mot (kinda)

Shorter chapter than usual, but it's time for all of you to realize something.

He was Mot Doltishend...

8/26/19

~*~*~*~*~

When he first woke up, it was to the sound of wailing.

He had remembered the darkness, the abyss of nothingness when he had let go of the only thing that could have possibly been his saving grace. He had willingly fell to his death, letting go of Gungnir, watching the horrified expressions on his brother and father's faces.

He had expected to be floating in the void, until he ended up somewhere, anywhere, a place to finally rest. Alas, there was a bright light that had surrounded him, just right before he was about to fall into the clutches of a tall, purple figure who's imposing aura was filled to the brim with darkness.

Had he been reborn?

The sound was terribly annoying- the wailing, he means- like a dying whale who had stubbed its tail with a pinch of a goose being run over simultaneously by a truck - and a herd of emus.

In summary, the wailing was an irritable sound.

"Chérie, elle est belle!" Honey, she is beautiful!

A male voice cried out joyously. It was in a language he knew not of. Was he so weak that his Allspeak had disappeared as well?

The man who held him was a kind-looking youth with sooty blonde hair and eyes that could be described as almost violet. He could have been passed off as Aesir if not for his scholarly built. His arms were thin and he appeared more homely than grand. His appearance was very haggard as he held him in his arms. Sweat covered his face as he spoke breathlessly.

Another voice, this time evidently a woman's, broke through the moment of soft silence.

"Mm, mon Cher, c'est un garçon." Mm, my dear, he is a boy.

The woman cheerfully remarked.

She also looked lovely, her features looking similar to a Vanir, with her jet black hair and pale skin. She bore phoenix eyes, which were equally black, if not blacker than the strands of her hair.

She looked quite lively despite having gone through labor.

He felt the warm blanket that was wrapped around him be torn away, to show him naked as the day he was born.

- Oh. Wait.

The wailing intensified.

The woman snatched the baby back, smiling coldly at the man, placing the blanket around him once more.

"Quit hogging him to yourself."

She spoke in English, now, although she had a British lilt in her tone.

For a woman who just experience childbirth, she looked fantastic.

The sudden switch in language had caught him off guard, although he could now understand her far more than previously. English was the only midgardian language he was most sufficient in.

"W-well-"

The man stammered, unsure.

"I have been through a forty eight hour labor, honey. I wanted my baby in my arms two minutes ago."

Her smile was as chilly as Jotunheim.

"Oui, Ma Chérie." It was good that her husband submitted to her.