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October 15.
Dear online journal,
I, Loki of Asgard, have the most cunning plan. Today, my father, my brother and I decided we have to stop the vile builder from stealing our sun, our moon and our most beautiful maiden. My plan involves magic of the most obscure and demanding kind. And a certain handsome stallion.
October 29.
I can't believe it! I think I'm pregnant. :-(
November 5. (= Day 12.)
I, Loki of Asgard, am pregnant.
So it would seem that one's ova don't care that one is actually one of the Æsir. Or, in the singular form, an Áss. Not a horse.
Also, condoms don't fit a stallion, even when it says "Trojan" on them.
Day 15.
So scared to tell mom and dad.
Svadilfari said he'll stand by me whatever happens. Well, he neighed in a way that I know means it.
I don't know if I'm ready for this. I'm only about 300 years old.
Day 17.
The Most Important Horse on Earth and in the eyes of all the Gods is the Dam; She is the Holy Creator of all Stallions and Mares. Although She might not claim the honour of slaying ice giants or building Valhalla, she has built something more Magnificent than any castle--a Dwelling for an Immortal Soul.
I'm definitely having my baby! (My foal.) I'm so excited!!
Day 19.
Ahem. I guess I should introduce myself here. I am Loki of Asgard, son of Odin and Frigga, one of the immortals. Also, I am a mare. I have brown fur and a black mane and tail. I like jumping over things with my friends, fresh oats, and conjuring up snakes.
I'm engaged to be married to the most valiant stallion Svadilfari. We're in Love. We've been together for a Truly Magnificent three weeks, eight hours and forty-three minutes!
Day 20.
Tomorrow I shall tell my parents the good news. I'm sure they will be excited! What parents wouldn't like being grandmother and grandfather to and Asgardian Workhorse/Norse God crossbreed?
I can feel the holy radiance of pregnancy flowing through me. My mane is shinier than ever and my hooves are in perfect condition. I was meant to be Mother.
Day 21.
I am in TEARS. Mother would have me abort this foal. Abort; it hurts to even type that word.
Mother
You had me
But I never had you...
She thinks I'm not ready. That I should think about my future. That I've known Svadilfari for such a little time. I'll show her! "Mares like you should have a career first, make something of yourself, not jump in to motherhood too soon."
There are no mares like me.
Father, fortunately, was more understanding. "I'm sure it will make a good strong steed," he said, eyeing my hairy stomach. "Of course we'll want to keep him." ("We"?)
Day 26.
Most terrible morning sickness lately. Have also learned horses don't vomit.
Call from Mother today. She did not apologise but she didn't mention the A word, either. She says she is understanding of this phase, as if I am going through "a phase". She says that if I want to be horse she will support me fully, but that this unexpected.
We might be young, but we are in love. I know I am ready. I am burdened with a glorious purpose.
Day 28.
Typing with hooves is HARD.
Day 29.
My brother, Thor, the mightiest of warriors and lord of storm and lightning, came to visit me. He promised that in the stables of Valhalla, he and father will build me "a stall fit for a prince... ess. Princess. Queen. Prince mare."
I offered that Svadilfari can totally help. As soon as he returns from his current voyage. After all, he has strength such as no man or horse in Asgard possesses. But Thor says no more construction work for my fiancé. Huh.
Day 34.
Today, I moved to my own stable. It is suited for a prince. The walls are from the finest wood in Asgard; the roof is pleated with pure gold; the salt lick is delicious. I may come and go as I please, and the stables open to a sunny field of fresh grass.
I have never before noticed how pleasing it is to roll around in the grass.
Day 37.
My tail looks better than it ever has. I am strong. I am powerful. I'm glowing. Radiating vibrant energy. Growing like the life tree itself. Kneel, bitches.
Day 48.
I hate being pregnant. I can barely stand on my own four feet for the morning sickness. I'm constipated like nobody's business. I have gas. I, Loki of the Aesir, son of Odin Allfather, have haemorrhoids.
Day 57.
Today, Thor came up to my stable early in the morning and said, "You have to stay in shape, brother mare!"
But I'm tired, I said. And sick.
"You are a warrior and a man of Asgard!"
I'm not a warrior, I said. And I'm not a man right now. I'm not even a stallion, I'm a mare. And pregnant. And tired. And I think all the hay is giving me some sort of rash--
"Do you fault your being female? Did that stop Hervor, the fierce woman warrior? Do the Valkyrie not stand proud and valiant in the clamour of battle? Do brave shieldmaidens complain of a little hay fever? Is the lady Sif not our own--"
Hervor stopped fighting when she got married.
"You will not stop. Besides, it will be a joy! I had a bridle made for you, with a--"
A what?
"A bridle! With a silver bit, for the Silvertongue!"
I absolutely will not wear that. I will wear a halter, at most.
"Oh. Well. Let's get the halter on, then!"
Then he put a halter on me. It was all right. We went outside. He had a lead rope.
I went in circles. Many circles.
It was fun!
Day 65.
My brother came again early this morning. Must he always wake me at sunrise?
"Early horses will catch the hay, brother horse!"
The hay is going nowhere.
"It is time to begin your saddle training!"
Oh no. Absolutely no saddle.
"For your brother. For your kingdom!"
Not even for that would I suffer the humiliation--
"I have an apple for you!"
Give it to me, then.
"Seeing as you have no love for me, I might not."
Never doubt that I love you, brother.
"Then let us try the saddle. For ten minutes."
Ten minutes is all I shall agree to.
So we went. It wasn't so bad, in the end. Mmmm apples.
Day 78.
Svaddie is gone. I do not now where, but doubtless his mission is important or he would not have left his pregnant consort in such utter boredom as this.
Nobody is here. I badly need my daily horse massage.
Thor has also gone away on the duties of the kingdom. I ran in no circles today.
Day 83.
Thor back! Many, many, many circles! Clockwise! Then counter-clockwise!
Day 85.
Many, many, many, many, many circles!
Day 89.
Svadilfari, my stallion, my faithful workhorse, is here again. I love him so.
(Some of the deer in the forest are saying awful nasty thinks about him and some wild mares. I shall not believe them. He is mine, and mine only, faithful as any horse. Some deer should just keep their big mouths shut.)
Day 96.
Okay, so some deer are posting these absolutely despicable filthy things about my Svadilfari in their blogs. For those concerned: He is mine. I am his. We are together. If you're that bitter and petty enough and you've never felt True Love, tough luck. Mind your own sad little businesses for once and leave my absolutely loving marriage alone.
Not that I have the time for that, anyway. Let them hate. I am Mother, filled with Love and New Life.
Day 112.
Dear blog,
Today I ran on the field. Then I came back to the stables. After that, I ate my oats. Having done that, I went back out. Where I ate some grass. I am terribly bored.
Now where is Svadilfari again?
Day 130.
I assume that if you're under the age of consent in your realm you'll stop reading now.
I'm ridiculously horny! My poor fiancé almost can't keep up. The royal healers of Asgard assure me it's safe even in my blessed state. Even though, you know, Svadilfari has a total horse-c**k.
Day 135.
At first light, my brother's all-too-loud voice roused me from my sleep again.
"Today, we begin riding!"
Oh brother, no, no--
"Apple?"
Oh, okay. For my kingdom.
Day 148.
The asinine new stable boy had locked the door to my stall at the morning cleaning yesterday. I could not get out before evening. I, Loki, god of mischief and Mother to Horses, son of Odin Allfather, spent the whole day bored, chewing on the wooden door of the stall. I made quite a dent there, too.
Now I have gas.
Day 152.
Bored.
Day 230.
So bored.
Day 252.
Finally fed up with having hooves, I tried today to change into my normal form. Fellow pregnant gods of mischief in temporary horse form: Never try this. The cramps you get from having a forty-pound foal inside your slender, beautiful Aesian form are something terrible. This especially if your regular body has no womb.
And the sharp little hooves.
Never again.
Day 254.
Still bored.
Day 255.
Today, I charmed all of my body except my head to be invisible and climbed to Odin's bed while he was sleeping. You should have heard him scream!
I thin some day I'm going to share this idea with some Midgardian crime lord.
Day 265.
Bored bored bored. But it happens any day now. Svadilfari is, again, gone. It is not in my knowledge where he is, nor when he returns. I would lament if our foal were born and he were not here to see it.
Day 266.
Just read it on Wikipedia that horse pregnancy lasts like eleven months, not nine. 330 days, not just 270. Still over two months left.
Hadn't thought of that. Crap.
Day 267.
Still pregnant.
Crap.
Crap crap crap.
Day 268.
Crap. Double crap. Mega crap. Odin's crap.
Day 269.
Well, at least I am not an elephant. They do this for 22 months.
Day 270.
Oh well.
Day 285.
Have not seen my True Love for a month. Where is he, in fact?
Day 297.
Father came by. Reminded me to rest and not move and stay all quiet and still. "You are carrying something as valuable as any treasure in Asgard!" he said.
More valuable, I said.
"Well, there is Gjallarhorn, and the golden crown of Vanaheim, and of course the hammer, and maybe a few of the major jewels would exceed the value of… Well, in any case, lie down, then!"
Horses do not lie down.
"As you were, then, son! Remember to protect him! And yourself, of course."
Him? What if it's a girl?
But by that point, father was staring wistfully out of the window. "Think of all the uses," he muttered.
Day 323.
Svaddie should be here soon. I haven't heard from him, except for some rumours from blogs that are absolutely beneath me and that I will not read or trust. He will return. He is true to his word, well, neigh, and I am the mother of his child.
Our love was decided by the Fates. We cannot be separated. I will not believe what lying tongues say.
Day 325.
Damn that cheating asshole. He's not coming back. I can cease fooling myself.
What the fuck did I end up getting knocked up by him for?
Day +1.
Had foal.
Birth relatively easy. Eight legs; number seems exceptionally high. Maybe he inherited both our legs? Maybe Svadilfari is actually a spider? I'm ready to believe anything about that dick.
Back in human form. Let some other mare nurse that bastard's son.
Day +4.
Family visit today.
"We will train him!" said my brother upon seeing my son. "And give him the best pastures in Asgard!"
Okay, then. Just let me be rid of that weight.
"He is our grandson," said mother. "And we will love him no matter how many legs he has."
Well, thank you. Whatever. I mean, I love my son, but he's a horse.
"He is mighty!" said dad.
Oh well.
"Do you wish to raise your son yourself to be great and wondrous? Or would you consider having him fostered?" He had that gleam in his eyes again.
Honestly, I don't think I'd be the best--
"Can I have him?"
Whatever, Dad, he's all yours.