#loki dad

"Please, Princess! Make it stop!" the buxom nanny screeched as she scrambled around a tree with a small, greenish figure hot on her tail.

Neither the nanny nor the child seemed to notice their King and Queen standing there.

Zophi's giggles ratcheted up to outright cackling, the tone of which could only be described as maniacal. The creature caught up with her nanny and proceeded to tangle its small, clawed hands in the poor woman's skirts. The thing--all big slanted eyes and grinning, toothy mouth--looked like some kind of gremlin. Or perhaps a very ugly wood sprite? It was so diminutive, it couldn't possibly be dangerous, though Borghild certainly seemed to believe otherwise.

The two of them--nanny and creature--stumbled into the clearing near the princess and collapsed onto the grass, one trying desperately to keep the other from getting under her petticoats.

The creature made a reedy sound of mirth not totally dissimilar from the princess' laugh. It's thin, pointed tail lashed left and right as it burrowed into folds of fine blue muslin.

Borghild screamed.

"Shouldn't you do something?" Eira asked mildly. "We'll lose another nanny."

"I suppose," he replied. "Though I doubt she's likely to stay on even if I do rescue her. She doesn't seem to have the temperament for it."

Eira rolled her eyes and Loki bent playfully to kiss her cheek before he strode up behind his daughter.

Zophi's little shoulders stiffened as he came to a stop behind her. The top of her curly black head didn't even reach his hip.

The high-pitched laughter faded.

Slowly, slowly, her head tilted back, until Loki found himself gazing into wide green eyes, upside-down.

"Hi, Papa."

"Hello, darling. What are you up to?" he asked conversationally. Nearby, Borghild continued to scream and thrash on the grass. The creature was now entirely lost under her skirts.

"Just playing with Borghild," she replied.

My daughter, he thought. The picture of innocence.

"Borghild doesn't appear to be enjoying your game, does she?" he asked, glancing at the distressed woman.

Zophi turned around to look up at him right-ways, rosy face pinching into a frown. "She said I was being naughty."

"I see. So you decided to prove her right?"

The little girl shrugged. "Ulfy said if she was to bully me I should stand up for myself."

It was at this moment that Borghild saw Loki standing there.

"Your Majesty!!" she screeched, both hands on the thrashing lump in her skirts. "Help me!"

Loki flicked a hand in the nanny's direction. The thrashing immediately stopped and Borghild made a sound of triumph as she kicked the little gremlin out onto the grass.

"We've talked about this before, my dear," he said to his daughter. "You're to do as your nanny tells you. She's not bullying."

Zophi sighed, pale cheeks puffing slightly as she frowned. "She called me a brat, though."

"My King," the nanny squeaked, on her feet now, sandy braids in fine disarray.

Loki held up a hand toward the nanny, attention still on his daughter. "You are a brat, darling."

Zophi dimpled as she fought not to smile. "I am not, Papa."

"You're rotten to the core, I'm afraid," he announced, glancing at the nanny with a smiling look of apology. "Were you harmed at all, love?"

The woman flushed prettily. "No, Your Majesty, only a few scratches." She glanced nervously at the still-frozen creature lying paralyzed in the grass a few feet away.

"Don't worry about him, now. Take yourself off for a rest, my dear. I'll handle this," he told her. "And you'll be compensated handsomely for your trials today, I promise." He gave her his most charming smile--Eira had told him once that it could raise a lovelorn lady from the dead--and again, Borghild flushed, ducking her head in acquiescence. When she'd scurried off, Loki turned back to his daughter.

"Mum doesn't like it when you flirt with the servants, Papa," the little girl said sternly.

Loki squashed a smile and replied, "I wasn't flirting, pet. That was damage control. And you can't go around summoning beasties to torment everyone who crosses you, my sweet. It just isn't practical."

"It's only a minor demon, Papa."

A minor demon?! Loki was careful to keep his face blank. "And where did you learn to summon demons, I wonder?"

Zophi's face shut down immediately.

"Not going to tell me, hm?" He smiled. "Think you can keep secrets from the God of Mischief?"

Zophi bit her lower lip, the shape of which was identical to Eira's. "I promised not to tell, Papa."

"Very well," he replied. "But you get twice the punishment. Yours, plus the punishment that should be visited upon your conspirator."

Zophi's little shoulders straightened, spine going stiff with determination. Her black curls bounced as she nodded once bravely. "I understand."

"Good girl. Go apologize to your mother for burning the grass and terrorizing your nanny, and then to your rooms until supper."

Zophi took a deep breath and turned towards Eira, then marched over to her mother. Loki watched his wife look down on their only daughter with a look of mild annoyance.

"I'm sorry Mummy," Zophi mumbled.

"Do better, brat," Loki called.

Zophi shot him a glare and then looked up at Eira again. This time her apology rung loudly across the gardens.

"I'm sorry I summoned a demon and ruined the grass and terrorized Borghild and made you cross!"

There was a pause while Eira considered this rather aggressive announcement. Then she bent a little and smoothed Zophi's mess of curls.

"I'll teach you how to heal the grass," was all she said.

“Thank you, my little darling”.

You sat on your desk and got to work through some papers and getting ready for the next mission. For a while, the only sounds from the room were your and Loki’s steady breathing, the turning of the pages and your laptop’s keyboard.

“Are you going to the next one?”, he asked as you closed the tabs and sat back on the chair, exhausted. “Stark told me about it”.

“I think he might want to use the whole Dark Team again”, you sighed. It’s been a year since he created the team, and, apart from getting your lover back, it did nothing good for you. It was exhausting, mission after mission with barely any rest, and to the worse and most dangerous ones so far. “But well, I think we’ll have our fair spare of rest once… you know”, you said with an undeletable smile on your face, walking slowly towards him and laying by his side. He pulled the book away and closed it. You rested your head on his lap, looking up at him. “What are you reading?”.

“Actually…”, he sighed and covered his frustration with another little smile, pressed lips in a thin line. Oh, God, those soft eyes he’d always give you. “A genetics book”.

You raised your eyebrows and reached to read it. You had to make an extra effort, but it was there; in old norse. Once you were conscious you were reading in old norse, it would take you a little more work than usual, but if Loki casually started speaking in old norse and you weren’t paying any mind to it, it’d come completely casual to you. The hows and whys of your knowledge of such an antique language was beyond your imagination, and you had agreed Loki wouldn’t actually give you those many years back he deleted from your brain because it could disturb the years you’ve been without those memories.

“I assume it’s on Jötun’s genetics?”.

“I haven’t seen anything so far. It’s such a specific thing… I doubt we’ll ever get the answer. Seriously, don’t you think it best we just stop this and…?”.

“No, Loki, let’s not give up. We’re gonna find it out. If there’s a chance our kid might be endangered from the mix of genetics then of course not, but…”, you sighed, and he started playing with your hair.

“I know. My apologies, I wouldn’t wish to give up so soon. It’s just that you look tired”.

“Mh-mh, tired from work. With you, I get younger every day”, you smiled, and he chuckled. “Listen, it’s not like it’d make any real difference if they’s biological or adopted. I just… I don’t know, I guess I want to have the expectative from before the baby is born, you know?”.

“Oh, yes, darling. Of course”, he kissed your forehead. “And, maybe we’re unlucky and the baby is like me. But if we’re very, very lucky, they might be just like you”.

The thought “this is a terrible idea” had crossed your mind many times, and always for very different reasons, but this one was the biggest yet.

Just like you maybe meant that he’d look at the kid and remember you once you’re dead; because you will be, very soon (for him). And, maybe if the kid looks just like you it would also mean mortal, and it would also mean Loki would have to go through not one but two funerals in a very short span of time.

Although, if the kid was Jötun like Loki it’d mean they’d lose one parent being still a little kid, and you’d never see them grow old. Not even to a teenager. The thought of that made your eyes water. You blinked the tears away, not wanting to worry Loki even more.

But Loki didn’t seem to care about mortality yet. His only worries were whether the kid could survive and be healthy given the mixture of Jötun genes and Midgardian genes.

“It’s just… I know I’m not like Odin and my mother at all, but… I feel like, if the kid may be adopted, they might not feel like our real child”, he said barely in a whisper, and your heart almost broke.

“Love, no”, you got up and cupped his face, “you’ll be a great father. The best. You had your big share of bad experiences, but it doesn’t mean you’ll replicate your parent’s gaslight, not at all”.

He sighed, and sank his face on your collarbones. You smelled him. He smelled just like he always did; a trace of mint, that midgardian men’s deodorant you liked so much, and coconut shampoo.

“It feels so weird”, he admitted in a whisper.

“What does?”, you replicated his tone.

“You’ll be a great father”, he recalled, and you smiled widely. “The word father in me wears so… big. I’m the bad example kind of uncle”.

“Ah, don’t worry about it. For bad examples we have many others. Including me”.

“Oh, damn”.

You two laughed on each other’s shoulders. You felt his chest reverberate with his laughter and his messy hair fall all over your face.

A knock on the window startled you, and you pulled out of the hug. Glancing over there, a sticky kid was signaling you two to open the window and let him in.

“Spider, what are you doing here?”, asked Loki as he reached for the window knob and let him in. Peter was wet from head to toes, covered in half melted snow, and his blue lips trembled along with his pulse.

“Hi Mr. Loki, hi Older. I’m less sticky with this snow, and I forgot you moved to a room that’s literally across the whole tower so I just climbed all around the building until I found you”, he said rapidly as you handed him a towel. “I just really needed to talk to you guys. Am I interrupting something?”.

“No, not at all. Sit here”.

Peter didn’t sit. Instead, he pulled out two cellular biology books and a notebook filled with sticky notes and started flipping around. Loki frowned, and you looked attentively.

“Pete, are those…?”.

“Yes. I figured it out, guys. It’s… it’s done. I did it”, he said, and you couldn’t stop looking at him with a bewildered look on your face. Peter clarified, “I’m sorry, Tony told me and he said you didn’t want to consult Banner, so I went ahead and started doing some research. I’m Banner’s chem intern, and he’s been teaching me a lot of things, including some DNA trials he did on Thor. Now, I know Thor isn’t a Frost Giant, but… I did the math. This could work, guys”.

After his explanation, both you and Loki were speechless. A fifteen year old had just gone through everything he could to help you and, very likely, did manage to solve it. He was the smartest boy you knew, science related, and if he said it might work, you just needed to check it with Bruce and Tony.

You walked to Peter and he flinched out of surprise, but that didn’t stop you from jumping to squeeze him in the tightest hug you could. Loki joined too, and you both stayed in that hug until Peter’s lungs would need a little air.

“You have no idea how much this helps. Thank you so, so much, little spider”, Loki whispered and Peter smiled as wide as he could.

“You’re an angel, boy”, you added, and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Let’s go through this”.

Peter explained that he knew it wasn’t impossible to cross entirely different species, such as alien and human, since his powers were the product of a cross with a spider.

“But… I’m not the son of a spider and a human. So, that’s gotta be a little messier”, he sighed, scratching off one of the formulas he thought might be of any use. “But Jötuns and humans are more alike than it sounds. Same body composition, almost the same size… it’s like… if a human would get extremely big out of nowhere, but it would still be a human”.

“And shoot ice out of his ass, too”, you added, and Loki punched lightly your shoulder. “Sorry”.

“I’d say we go to Banner”, proposed Loki.

“Really?”.

“I guess… I’m being irrational”, he admitted, and both Peter and you opened your eyes widely, staring at him in awe, not daring to say anything yet. “What?”.

“Did you just admit you were wrong?”, whispered Peter.

“Spider!”, you reproached him.

“Sorry”.

“Well. Let’s not dwell on that and get the Hel on with this, shall we?”.

He found them on a side path in the central gardens, not far from the council room entrance.

Eira had gotten there first. She stood back from the commotion, arms crossed, expression martyred, deep green dress shimmering slightly in the sunlight. Her hair was mostly loose today; it hung in rich waves around her hips. The braids at her temples were threaded with green threads.

Even after 300 hundred years, he still felt the flush of fever every time he saw her.

Not that he had much time to enjoy it, at the moment.

Their daughter's nanny was crashing through the bushes that lined the clearing crying, “Princess, please! Call him off, call him off!” Meanwhile, their youngest stood in the center of the clearing with her back to them, watching and giggling uncontrollably.

The grass beneath her olive green skirts was etched with scorched runes. They were still smoking.

“What's she done now?” Loki asked in a low voice as he reached his wife.

Eira slid him an accusatory look. “Your daughter has summoned some kind of creature. And not a very nice one, it seems. He appears to be Hel-bent on molesting poor Borghild.”

“Please, Princess! Make it stop!” the buxom nanny screeched as she scrambled around a tree with a small, greenish figure hot on her tail.

Neither the nanny nor the child seemed to notice their King and Queen standing there.

Zophi’s giggles ratcheted up to outright cackling, the tone of which could only be described as maniacal. The creature caught up with her nanny and proceeded to tangle its small, clawed hands in the poor woman's skirts. The thing--all big slanted eyes and grinning, toothy mouth--looked like some kind of gremlin. Or perhaps a very ugly wood sprite? It was so diminutive, it couldn't possibly be dangerous, though Borghild certainly seemed to believe otherwise.

The two of them--nanny and creature--stumbled into the clearing near the princess and collapsed onto the grass, one trying desperately to keep the other from getting under her petticoats.

The creature made a reedy sound of mirth not totally dissimilar from the princess’ laugh. It's thin, pointed tail lashed left and right as it burrowed into folds of fine blue muslin.

Borghild screamed.

“Shouldn't you do something?” Eira asked mildly. “We'll lose another nanny.”

“I suppose,” he replied. “Though I doubt she's likely to stay on even if I do rescue her. She doesn't seem to have the temperament for it.”

Eira rolled her eyes and Loki bent playfully to kiss her cheek before he strode up behind his daughter.

Zophi’s little shoulders stiffened as he came to a stop behind her. The top of her curly black head didn't even reach his hip.

The high-pitched laughter faded.

Slowly, slowly, her head tilted back, until Loki found himself gazing into wide green eyes, upside-down.

“Hi, Papa.”

“Hello, darling. What are you up to?” he asked conversationally. Nearby, Borghild continued to scream and thrash on the grass. The creature was now entirely lost under her skirts.

“Just playing with Borghild,” she replied.

My daughter, he thought. The picture of innocence.

“Borghild doesn't appear to be enjoying your game, does she?” he asked, glancing at the distressed woman.

Zophi turned around to look up at him right-ways, rosy face pinching into a frown. “She said I was being naughty.”

“I see. So you decided to prove her right?”

The little girl shrugged. “Ulfy said if she was to bully me I should stand up for myself.”

It was at this moment that Borghild saw Loki standing there.

“Your Majesty!!” she screeched, both hands on the thrashing lump in her skirts. “Help me!”

Loki flicked a hand in the nanny's direction. The thrashing immediately stopped and Borghild made a sound of triumph as she kicked the little gremlin out onto the grass.

“We've talked about this before, my dear,” he said to his daughter. “You're to do as your nanny tells you. She’s not bullying.”

Zophi sighed, pale cheeks puffing slightly as she frowned. “She called me a brat, though.”

“My King,” the nanny squeaked, on her feet now, sandy braids in fine disarray.

Loki held up a hand toward the nanny, attention still on his daughter. “You are a brat, darling.”

Zophi dimpled as she fought not to smile. “I am not, Papa.”

“You're rotten to the core, I'm afraid,” he announced, glancing at the nanny with a smiling look of apology. “Were you harmed at all, love?”

The woman flushed prettily. “No, Your Majesty, only a few scratches.” She glanced nervously at the still-frozen creature lying paralyzed in the grass a few feet away.

“Don't worry about him, now. Take yourself off for a rest, my dear. I'll handle this,” he told her. “And you'll be compensated handsomely for your trials today, I promise.” He gave her his most charming smile--Eira had told him once that it could raise a lovelorn lady from the dead--and again, Borghild flushed, ducking her head in acquiescence. When she'd scurried off, Loki turned back to his daughter.

“Mum doesn't like it when you flirt with the servants, Papa,” the little girl said sternly.

Loki squashed a smile and replied, “I wasn't flirting, pet. That was damage control. And you can't go around summoning beasties to torment everyone who crosses you, my sweet. It just isn't practical.”

“It’s only a minor demon, Papa.”

A minor demon?! Loki was careful to keep his face blank. “And where did you learn to summon demons, I wonder?”

Zophi’s face shut down immediately.

“Not going to tell me, hm?” He smiled. “Think you can keep secrets from the God of Mischief?”

Zophi bit her lower lip, the shape of which was identical to Eira's. “I promised not to tell, Papa.”

“Very well,” he replied. “But you get twice the punishment. Yours, plus the punishment that should be visited upon your conspirator.”

Zophi's little shoulders straightened, spine going stiff with determination. Her black curls bounced as she nodded once bravely. “I understand.”

“Good girl. Go apologize to your mother for burning the grass and terrorizing your nanny, and then to your rooms until supper.”

Zophi took a deep breath and turned towards Eira, then marched over to her mother. Loki watched his wife look down on their only daughter with a look of mild annoyance.

“I'm sorry Mummy,” Zophi mumbled.

“Do better, brat,” Loki called.

Zophi shot him a glare and then looked up at Eira again. This time her apology rung loudly across the gardens.

“I'm sorry I summoned a demon and ruined the grass and terrorized Borghild and made you cross!”

There was a pause while Eira considered this rather aggressive announcement. Then she bent a little and smoothed Zophi's mess of curls.

“I'll teach you how to heal the grass,” was all she said.