#gingerwritess

It's not that you didn't enjoy eating fancy meals when you and Loki were by yourselves. Or quick homemade meals most days with Elliot and Frigg. But you missed your mom's food.

That's why when she called you to say that she had left something for you and the kiddos on the doorstep you drove as fast as the law would allow you to pick up Frigg from kindergarten and Elliot from his afterschool club to get home. Quick.

When you saw the beaten up deep pot, clearly used past it's intended years, your eyes got glossy. You remembered that old pot.

Frigg and Elliot swarmed you with questions about what was in it.

"It's smells really good!" Elliot said trying to get a peek.

"Does that mean we're not eating spaghetti again?" Frigg's eyes widened in excitement.

"Hey! You love my pasta." You pouted placing the pot on the counter before leaning down and kissing her neck as she laughed and squirmed out of your grip.

"But what is it?" Elliot asked trying to get on top of the counter to look inside the pot.

You catched him before he could climb up. "Eh! No climbing the counter. You know that!" You admonished him half-seriously.

"But I want to know!" He pouted. Oh yeah. He totally took that from you.

"Then let me open it and let's see!"

When you opened the lid a heavenly aroma rose from the pot. A soup with an array of different vegetables and some type of meat was on the pot. A little bit of the oil from the guiso still floating at the top, but not enough to make it look greasy.

Your jaw dropped when you recognized the meat. "Oh my god es lagarto..." 

"LAGARTO!?" Elliot shrieked horrified.

"What?" Frigh asked confused.

You mentally slapped yourself. You shouldn't have said it like that. While trying to make an effort for your kiddos to know a bit of your mother tongue you had completely forgotten that colloquial language was also a thing, and not every overly simplified card game with animal names in spanish could explain everything to a nine-year-old.

"No, Elliot, that's not what it means."

"Then what does it mean?" He asked, obviously concerned at the prospect of potentially eating a lizard.

"It's a way of calling this type of meat. It's part of the cow, just like any other steak. It's just a way of speaking." You smiled as his concern slowly drained from his face. "On the other hand this is one of the softest parts to eat! You guys are really going to like it!" 

Placing it back onto the stove and turning the heat on, you ask your kids to go change and come back to help you set the table for the night.

As you finished getting everything ready your mind flew back to your culture. You had to admit that there had been a certain disconnect with it ever since you had moved to New York, and it only grew as your shenanigans with Loki augmented.  But it was something that was yours and you wanted your children to also appreciate.

A smile came to your face as you thought of an idea. But you couldn't do it today. You would have to wait a bit.

Loki was delighted when he saw the gift from his mother-in-law. He was the first to admit that the relationship with your parents was... bumpy at best. But marrying a reformed super villian isn't exactly every parents' dream, is it? But they respected your decision and were supportive where they could, even if they lived a bit far away.

The meal that day was great, and there was some leftovers that you put on a Tupperware to take to work tomorrow. Nothing in the house went to waste, and that was a law.

Loki noticed whispers among you and the children for the next few weeks, and even heard a couple of times scrambling and shushing as he came home from meeting and such.

He was starting to get suspicious, especially one night, when after finally getting Frigg to sleep, he came into the room to find you pushing something far into the closet.

He wanted to ask you about it, but he trusted you. And he honestly couldn't resist when you kissed him so lovingly. It just melted his troubles away whenever you were next to him.

Almost a month later he found what all the secrecy had been about. He came in the small apartment waiting the usual scene of you and the kids getting ready for dinner, but he found something even better.

You were sitting on the floor with Frigg on your lap beaming up at him. Both of you were wearing traditional clothes from your country. Flowers decorating your hairstyle, which consisted of tying it up on a bun.

Elliot stood by your side on a male style of the traditional costume. His mop of hair covered by a traditional sewn hat.

You three beamed at his delighted confusion. And you nodded at Elliot who played some flokloric music on the speaker and, after pulling Loki to sit on the couch, you three began singing and dancing around him as you had practiced during the past weeks. The kids on a choppy, but adorable spanish, and you with the words flowing out of your mouth. Words you had known all of your life but hadn't said in a long time.

Loki was absolutely delighted at his little family and tried to partake by taking you and trying to follow your steps. And although it was very sloppy, you didn't care. It wasn't just the sheer happiness, or the smooth but old sounding man's voice that came from the speaker, it was everything. The smiles on yours and your kids' faces. The aroma of spices that Loki had never smelled before. Maybe once in a lifetime, but too long ago for him to remember it this vividly. The flow of your dress. The way it was clinging to your hips, yet it flowed at your feet, twirling almost magically as you spun around carrying a laughing Frigg on your arms. How your cleavage and shoulders were exposed by the white shirt.  It was everything. Everything that reminded Loki everyday why he loved you and why he was so happy to have chosen you over his own pride.

This was living. This was what it had meant to be alive. To enjoy the colorful moments. The mix of cultures. The beauty of the strong woman you had become. It sent him on a trip of emotions, a spiral of happiness that not even he could explain. Because now that the song had ended, his little daughter, his little miracle, said that she practiced a song and wanted to try and sing it to him. He agreed, euphoric, and you pulled him to sit on the couch and Elliot cuddled next to him to listen to his little sister.

You kneeled next to your daughter as she took a breath and began reciting the song that both of you had been practicing. A song that you had been raised with. That you grew up singing and now your baby girl was singing too. She began to sing in her choppy and wonderful spanish:

"La vaca mah-riposa tuvo un ter-ne'.

Un becerito lindo como un beh-beh!"

You giggled as you joined her to sing along with her.

"Dámelo papaito dicen los niños cuando lo ven nacer,

Y ella lo esconde por los mogotes, que no se

¡La vaca mariposa tuvo un terne'!

Y los pericos van,Y el Gavilán también,

Con frutas criollas hasta el caney para él,

Y mariposa está, que nos sabe que hacer.

Por que ella sabe la suerte de él."

Loki sees you both there. His little girl standing there looking down at her mom kneeling next to her, a loving expression. One that goes beyond words in both of your faces as you share in a song a lifetime an a million more that go from one generation to the next.

A pretty outfit that is almost identical between the both of you, Frigg's being a bit more age appropriate for a 4, almost 5 year old. And yours that accentuated your figure perfectly and made you look like a goddess from a fable from your people. A goddess of laughter, kindness and fertility that Loki was completly enamoured with.

As the song ended he and Elliot clapped as Frigg did a little bow and you followed her lead after she motioned a hand for you to do the same.

Promptly afterwards, Loki was taken hostage by the kiddos to look at the meal that they and their mom had proudly made.

Loki was amazed at the variety of foods that you had made. He saw the arepas, like the ones that you had offered him a long time ago, when hiding in your office seemed like a good idea.

"I remember these." He smirked.

You pushed past him to pick up the trays and take them to the dining table. "Oh, shut up." You smirked back.

The table was filled with many traditional dishes from your home country, surprisingly, many were fried. One had an egg on top of it and ketchup.

"Don't judge me. Judge my ancestors. I still don't get the egg. But I said "eh, I might as well go all out!"" You offered as an explanation as you placed a tray with tequeños next to the traditional drink chicha.

Loki mildly remembered parties, and banquets and feasts back in Asgard. But there was nothing in the world that could make him forget something like this. And of course, he loved to have casual dinners with you and his little family, but this felt special, it felt like when you sit next to the heart at a cozy home. It feels right and safe. And yeah, you are playing a game with Elliot and Frigg to get them to eat their veggies, not just the deliciously fried tequeños. But it was his family, it was his life, it was you and your kids in lovely folkloric outfits and feeling safe.

It was everything that he had ever wished for. And he knew that he had never expected the universe to be this kind to him. That's why he was so thankful.

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