Fic, Vidar Goes Shopping. Vidar, Loki, 12

[fredbassett]

Title : Vidar Goes Shopping
Author : fredbassett
Subject: Norse Mythology
Genre : Humour.
Rating : 12 (Unless you consider god!fic to be inappropriate, in which case, please don’t read at all!!!)
Characters : Loki, Vidar
Summary : After helping the gods out of yet another fix, Loki gave birth whilst in horse form. No, don’t worry, this isn’t full-on m-preg!!!  Just a very brief aftermath fic.
Warning : No sex, nope, none at all, but does contain a brief and entirely canon mention of m-preg
Written for Grondfic.  Does this class as grocery!godfic, do you think?

“Why is there never any food in your halls?”

Vidar sighed. Loki was in a cranky mood. Again.

“Because you eat it all? Because you’re a lazy bugger and never replace anything you do eat?”

“You’re getting at me. Don’t get at me when I’ve got post-natal depression, it’s not fair.”

“You haven’t got post-natal depression. You had that after the Triplets, but right now you’re just hung over and grousy.”

“I‘m hungry, not hung over.”

“I give in.  What do you want?”

The Lord of Mischief brightened visibly. “Venison. Lots of it. Just don’t get pork. I never want to eat pork again.”

“I’ll remind you of that when you’re chasing Saehrimnir around the halls with a knife yelling nice piggy.”

“And no apples.  I hate apples. I never want to see an apple again as long as I live.”

Vidar chuckled.  That was probably a justifiable reaction. Loki had somewhat of a history where apples were concerned. Coupled with that, the inhabitants of Asgard were somewhat uncreative when it came to treats for expectant fathers. 

“All right, no apples.” He headed for the door, commenting over his shoulder, “While I’m out, remember to change and feed the baby. And do try to stop him crapping on the furs for once.”

The door swung shut, and a satisfied grin spread over Loki’s face. Vidar succumbed to his whining every time.  The grin slid into a smile as his eyes fell on Sleipnir. The foal was struggling up onto unsteady feet, grey coat gleaming in the firelight. Loki was fond of all his children, but he had to admit that this one was the prettiest by far at this stage.

If four legs were good, eight were certainly better. And cuter.