Father and Daughter
Title:Father and Daughter
Rating: PG
Warnings: Bullying
Summary: Being a parent is more difficult than Loki originally thought it would be. Thankfully, he does have people he can ask for help. The only one with helpful advice about Natasha's sleeping problem, however, is Volstagg. He also forgot one other thing; most residents of Asgard don't think of Midgardians with any sort of respect. Even adopted princesses. Littlest Valkyrie Verse
When he first brought Natasha back to Asgard, Loki hadn't really thought much about the details. He'd only been thinking of getting her out of the nightmare she was in. Well, perhaps he'd thought a little about what all he would have to do in caring for the girl, he just didn't expect there to be so much. His mother had taken care of getting the nursery ready, as well as finding clothing for her granddaughter. But in retrospect, these were just the tip of the proverbial iceberg. There was a nanny to hire, schooling to arrange, questions to answer, most of them more than twice, and still do all of his regular court duties - and spend time each day with his daughter.
The biggest problem seemed to be the psychological effects caused by the bastards at the Red Room, when it came to Natasha's well-being. She was afraid of the dark, of being alone, small enclosed spaces (which was discovered when she accidentally shut herself into a wardrobe) and loud voices. That was just the things Loki knew about. He had a feeling there were plenty more, waiting to make themselves known. Thankfully, she wasn't afraid of there being a monster under her bed. Then again, there was another problem; Loki couldn't get Natasha to sleep in her own bed in the nursery. She kept sneaking into his.
His mother had told him, quite plainly, that he couldn't let her continue to sleep there. If he kept giving in, then Natasha couldn't start to overcome many of her fears. Loki doubted his mother ever had to deal with him or Thor climbing into their parents' bed, although he could recall the two of them sharing one of the beds in the nursery on occasion, during particularly bad storms before Thor could control his powers or if one of them had a nightmare and didn't want Father to know they were scared.
Books weren't much help either, which was almost as frustrating. Having the vast library of Asgard fail to provide a solution to a problem was unthinkable. The methods suggested by the books he found were downright deplorable; making the child sleep on the floor, tie them into their own bed, everything was cruel. Cruel was one of the things Natasha definitely didn't need. So Loki went to the one person who might have had to deal with similar problem; Volstagg.
*
The bearded warrior felt that Loki must have been expecting something other than the look of pity he gave him. Volstagg sighed, decided that he would figure the reason for that later. “Every night?”
“Every night.” Loki rubbed his temple. “If it was once a week, I most likely wouldn't mind, but Natasha has her own room, and...”
“I understand.” Volstagg took a drink from his mug of mead. “You haven't woken up with her foot in your face, have you?” He managed a weak chuckle.
“No.” Loki bit back a laugh. “Although Natasha has managed to steal all the covers a few times.”
The man grinned. “Just be glad it's not winter.”
“Yes.” He ran a hand through his hair and took a drink from his own mug. “I suppose that helps some.”
Volstagg tapped his fingers against the mug, thinking. “Do you put her to bed every night?”
“Most nights.” Loki let out a breath. “There's only been a handful of times I haven't. I've told her she needs to stay where she is, but...”
“She's somehow managed to absorb her uncle's stubborn personality in the time she's been here.” He shook his head. “Tough love will not work in this situation, not with the sort of early years Natasha's had. It is similar to warriors who come from abusive homes. Full of piss and vinegar, ready to slay anything in their path, skill and caution be damned.”
Loki nodded in agreement, remembering some of the men who had joined Asgard's army, who seemed ready to fight at the tiniest provocation, taking no care for themselves - or their fellow warriors. “Aja, her nanny, leaves the lamps lit in the nursery well into the night, so it isn't the dark that's bothering her. Norns, I know Natasha's woken in my room in near pitch darkness, gone to the privy, and come back without a single problem.”
“That is most likely due to the fact that she knows you're there, Loki.” Volstagg sighed. “She believes that whatever is in the dark that scares her, if you're there, she feels safe.”
“I will not let any harm come to her. She knows that.” He frowned. “Perhaps she fears I will not be able to hear her if she has a nightmare, or...”
“Natasha is not like other children,” he held up a hand before the prince could interject. “Not many parents start off with a five year old, they start off with a newborn. A baby who sleeps in a crib until they are big enough for a bed will not have the same issues as one who spent years in a nightmare.” He took a long drink from his mug. “My children only seem to find their way into the bed with my wife and I if they've had a bad dream, or if they don't feel well.” He grimaced. “Be grateful you haven't woken up to find a vomiting child in your bed.” He was certain he went green from expression the prince gave him. “I think Natasha is more likely to soil a guard's boots than your bed, Loki. I have noticed she tends to shy away from them.”
“Given her past...” He sat back in his chair. “I have a feeling I should stop using that excuse. I cannot help her move forward if I keep using it as reason for the way she acts.”
Volstagg drained the last of his mug,repressing the urge to burp, a thought had suddenly come to him. “Does Natasha have any sort of plush animal?”
“I believe... yes, there are several my mother purchased, a bear, a dragon - and a unicorn. Why?” He frowned. “What are you thinking?”
“This may sound a little odd, but when I go away on quests, my wife puts the two plush animals into my wardrobe during the day; at night, she gives them to our children to help them sleep.” He held up a hand. “The animals absorb my scent during the day - they know I am gone, but somehow, the smell makes them feel safe. I cannot explain it, only that my wife assures me it works.”
Loki rubbed his chin, frowning. “But Natasha will know I am across the hall.”
“Why do you not at least try it? Go, put one of the plush animals in your room, in a place where it can soak up your scent - or failing that, put one of your pillows in her bed. That might work as well.” Volstagg offered him a weary smile. “Just make certain that Natasha knows that she needs to stay in her room, and in her bed.”
“I've told her that, she doesn't listen.” His hand fell. “I do not want to have to threaten her with punishment should she misbehave.”
“I am afraid it might come to that, if you are unable to break her of the habit.” Volstagg frowned into his empty mug. “These sorts of things are never easy, Loki.”
“I think it is not so much her sleeping where she is that bothers me.” He sighed. “It is the fact that she, a mere child, knows of horrors that no one should ever know.”
*
Natasha wanted to do as Papochka asked. Which was why she was hugging her plush dragon, staring up at the dancing shadows on the ceiling and walls of the nursery. Stars chased each other in lazy patterns, some disappearing behind the headboard, others skirted along the curtains and in the other room, she could hear Aja snoring very lightly. Through the open window, she could hear the scuffle of one of the guard's boots as they walked the length of the balcony that went from her room to the curve where it met the one in front of her grandparent's room, and then they returned. She was torn.
Every fiber of her being was telling her to do as she was bid, stay in her own bed, and go to sleep. But another part of her wanted to jump up, race out of the room and go to her father, knowing that she'd be safer there then here.
The bad people could not get her here. Papochka promised her that. Grandmother, Grandfather and Uncle Thor promised her that. There were more guards in her new home, dogs bigger and fiercer than any of the bad people had; she should feel safe.
Then why didn't she feel that way?
She sat up in bed, still holding onto her animal.
She was not going to leave the nursery.
She was going to stay in her room.
If she could just figure out what was scaring her, maybe then she could fall asleep.
Natasha held out her hands and some of the star-lights swept over them, changing colors and then went on their journey anew. “Am I scared?” She hugged her dragon a little tighter and took in the bed chamber again. The bed itself wasn't a problem - it was soft, warm and so big, wider than she was tall. She had a mountain of pillows and blankets, and honestly, it was practically a nest. So it wasn't the bed.
She listened to the guards click past her windows again, the tiniest sound of creaking leather accompanied their strides.
It wasn't the guards. They moved more quietly than the ones from the bad place - and they were nicer too.
It wasn't Aja. Aja took care of her.
Wardrobe, toys, furniture - all of it was dismissed and she frowned. What was it that made her want to leave this room every night and go to Papochka's? Natasha yawned, fell back against the pillows, and snuggled into the one she used in her father's room. She closed her eyes, skirting the edge of sleep, about ready to let slumber take her - and then the stillness of the night was shattered. It wasn't thunder, rain, or anything she could give name to - whatever it was, it altered the guards and there was the sound of running feet. The sky outside her windows suddenly shone as bright as day, but it wasn't blue, it was red, and she could see great metal demons dropping something on the city, explosions setting the world on fire.
Rather than escape to where she wanted to go, determined to obey, the little girl pulled the covers over her head and huddled underneath them as the sounds grew loud, the palace foundations shaking and then the screaming started. Someone was screaming, so loud and high, it drowned out the sounds of the explosions, of the guards, of the panic...
“NATASHA!” Hands suddenly took hold of her arms and the world went quiet.
She blinked, looking around her room in surprise. The lights were on, the guards were standing in the doorway to the balcony, Grandfather and Grandmother were standing in the doorway with Uncle Thor, Aja was standing near the guards - and Papochka was sitting on the bed, his face ashen. It was... the demons in the sky, the explosions - she'd been dreaming. She swallowed, the terrified feeling giving way to one of shame. “I'm sorry.” She said, barely whispering.
“It's all right.” Papochka gave her a hug, pressing her face against his chest.
She could hear the others leaving, and she sniffled. “I didn't mean to wake everyone up.”
“I was not asleep just yet.” He let go and smoothed down her hair. “Now, little fox, tell me what you were dreaming about.”
*
“They are called airplanes, majesty.” Heimdall's gaze did not flicker from his watch as the queen asked him of the objects that plagued the newest member of the royal family's dreams. “Did the All-Father tell you of Midgard's war?”
“Yes.” Frigga came forward, deeper into the observatory. “But if Loki is correct of that compound's location, it does not make sense that Natasha knows what is going on elsewhere.” She frowned. “Or have Midgardians found a way to share images in a more timely manner?”
“Indeed my queen, they have. Moving pictures, they are called. A recent development, but one that is available in many of Midgard's countries.” Heimdall gave the barest hint of a wince. “It is possible that Natasha has seen these attacks on cities in a moving picture.”
The queen shook her head. “Children should not be shown such things. It is horrible enough that many must suffer through it.”
“I fear this war will only grow worse, even now one empire is preparing to attack another, which currently remains neutral.” His eyes narrowed. “A sleeping giant, one of the generals of this army calls it.”
“Are they giants?” Frigga frowned. “What an odd metaphor.”
“The neutral empire has plentiful resources, once this attack comes, all of Midgard shall be engulfed.”
“Perhaps this shall be their last war.” She folded her hands. “Then again, how many times has that hope been dashed?”
“Midgard will learn, my queen.” Heimdall shifted the observatory walls and now, the stars showed the distant reaches of space, and a faint twinkling of blue caught her eye.
Jotunheim.
“Thank you, Heimdall.” She turned and walked away from the guardian, pausing at the start of the rainbow bridge. “What year is it now on Midgard, has the new one begun?”
“Indeed it has, my queen. It is now nineteen forty-one, as they measure things.” Heimdall replied.
“Yes.” She headed back for the palace.
*
“Lady Sif, I think you have a second shadow.” Fandral declared at the end of a particularly grueling training session.
“I beg your pardon?” The warrior frowned at her friend and then slowly turned, just in time to see a tiny red-haired figure dart behind a pillar.
“See, I told you.” Fandral gestured with his foil. “Natasha has been watching you for the past hour and you never noticed.”
“She was watching all of us, I knew she was there.” Sif replied indignantly, before taking a step towards the pillar. “Don't tell me you can see through stone, Natasha. Or if you can, you must tell us how you managed such a feat.”
The girl's face slowly appeared, a stubborn look on her face. “Are you teasing me?”
“Not in the presence of your uncle.” Fandral stated, a laugh in his voice, turning around. “Speaking of, where is...”
A loud boom echoed across the training ground, shaking the ground, and it was followed by a boisterous laugh.
“When is he going to stop showing off?” Sif snorted and turned back towards Natasha, only to find that she was behind the pillar again. “I think we should sic Thor's niece on him. Maybe she can get him to act like an adult.” She shook her head and went over to where the girl was staying hidden. “You know this is just practice, right? No one is going to get hurt.”
Natasha looked up at her, nodding slowly. “It sounds real.”
“And how would you...” Sif frowned and crouched down to the girl's level. “I suppose you're right. It does sound very real. But no one is going to get seriously hurt. And your uncle Thor tends to act like he's your age.”
That brought a giggle. “He's silly.”
“Who's silly?” Fandral had come over to the two of them. “Certainly not I.”
Sif rolled her eyes. “You're the silliest one of the lot, Fandral.” She stood up.
“Nonsense. I only seem that way to you, Lady Sif, because you and Hogun are far to serious.” The man chuckled. “Which leaves Volstagg to be the voice of reason.”
“I would not say...”
“What is that doing here?” A sharp voice rang out across the training ground, loud enough to bring all conversation to a close.
Sif felt her back stiffen. She knew that voice and she slowly turned towards it. Just as she suspected, it was Celsck, a warrior who was the same size as Hogun, and was as tactless as the Vanir warrior was silent. “You're going to have to more specific...”
He cut her off and pointed directly at Natasha. “That. What is that stupid Midgardian bitch doing here?”
Silence continued to reign on the grounds and a quick glance told Sif that neither of the princes were within earshot; that and the fact that Celsck was still breathing.
“I am not stupid.” Natasha's voice quivered slightly as she spoke. “You're mean!”
“All Midgardians are stupid. Even bloodthirsty frost giants know that!”
“Enough.” Sif growled, stepping between Natasha and the warrior. “Leave her alone.”
“Let the little brat fight her own battles, Lady Sif.” Celsck spat.
She felt the girl come around to stand next to her, and she glanced down to see that Natasha was doing her best not to look scared. “You must be mad to think anyone would let you do this.”
“The little bitch should run back off to play with dolls. The same place you should have stayed.” He spat.
Fandral quietly drew in a breath. “Is he trying to get himself killed?” His voice was just low enough that only Sif could hear it.
“She's just a...” Sif started as Natasha stepped out of her grasp and up to Celsck - it was like looking at a mouse meeting a tiger.
“Well, the little brat comes for a beating.” He laughed. “I'd have thought the new pet would be kept in a cage, not wandering about freely.”
“What do you think you're doing?” Volstagg finally broke the silence and started forward from the other side of the training ground.
“Teaching this thing her place.” Celsck raised one hand and started to bring it down.
The next sound that echoed through the grounds wasn't the slap of palm on cheek.
It was Celsck screaming in pain as Natasha latched her mouth onto the ball of his thumb and hung onto his arm as she bit into his hand, hard.
“You little shit!” He swung his arm, trying to dislodge her. “You disgusting...” He flung her to one side, not looking to see who was there, and the girl flew off, tumbled head over heels; and landed at her father and uncle's feet.
Loki looked murderous and Thor looked more than willing to help hide the body.
Celsck's hand was dripping with blood; the girl had broken skin. “You...”
Natasha, apparently emboldened by her actions, got to her feet, shaking. “Just you wait until I get my big girl teeth! I'll bite your hand off!”
Sif and Volstagg were the first ones to start laughing.
*
“I think we should tell Loki the truth.” Frigga knew it wasn't the best way to start dinner with her husband, but she had been silent on the matter for the past hundred and fifty years. “It is high time he knew.”
Odin sighed. “I thought we agreed this matter was closed, Frigga.”
“You agreed. I did not. Loki should be told.” She sliced her roast boar into smaller pieces. “Things are changing throughout the Nine Realms, the plans you had for him on Jotunhiem will no longer work.”
“I know that.” Odin took a drink from his goblet. “But I do not know what else there is for him; he knows that either he or Thor will ascend to the throne, but in telling him the truth, he will know that the throne is his brother's.”
“Thor will need his brother. Norns, he needs his brother now, I do not believe he knows the current status of any of the realms other than Asgard.” She stabbed at her meat. “Things cannot continue as they are.”
The Allfather set down his cutlery. “Frigga...”
“You know I am right.” She tightened her grip on her fork. “His is our son, Odin. He needs to know before it is too late. Before something happens and he finds out accidentally.”
“And how could that occur?” Odin remarked. “Jotunheim is not ready to open negotiations for trade with Asgard, there is still ill will between the two. I know that they trade with Alfheim and Nidavellir, I have reports from some of the...”
“Asgard may not be prepared, but it will not be long.” Frigga set her fork down. “We need to do this. We must.” She shook her head. “I am still in shock that he has not asked us why we did not protest him adopting Natasha.”
Odin rubbed at his temple. “You do have a point, Frigga. I take it you do not intend for us to tell him tonight.”
“There has been enough excitement for one day, I believe.” She picked her fork back up. “Before the month is out. We need not tell Thor just yet, but Loki needs to know. The sooner, the better.”
*
Loki finished tucking his daughter into bed, trying to keep his face stern. “What you did today was extremely foolish, Natasha. Celsck could have killed you.” He sat down and brushed her hair out of her face with his hand. “Promise me that you will never do something like that again.” He paused. “At least, not until you are the same size as Lady Sif.” Not that he wanted to think of the girl fighting at all.
She blinked sleepily at him. “I promise.” She grimaced. “His hand tasted terrible.”
“I can only imagine, as I have never bit someone.” He shrugged. “That I can remember.”
Natasha half yawned, half giggled. “I am not stupid.”
“No, you are not stupid.” He kissed her forehead. “You are a clever girl.” He fussed with the hem of the blanket as she snuggled under the covers, tucking it around her shoulders and the top of the plush dragon. “A little bit of a risk taker...” He gave her the barest hint of a smile. “Exactly like myself.”
She grinned and closed her eyes. “Good night, Papochka.”
“Good night, Sasha.” He kissed her forehead again. “Sweet dreams.” Loki tapped the lamp by the bed, casting the shadows into the shapes of horses, slowly prancing around the walls. He stood and left the bedchamber, shutting the door quietly behind him. When he came into the main room of the nursery, he found Aja standing there, looking rather contrite.
“Again, your grace, I want to...” She started to say, but he cut her off by raising his hand.
“It was not your fault, Aja.” He sighed. “I am afraid Natasha is going to have to deal with people insulting her for her Midgardian heritage for a very long time.”
“Perhaps she will help change the opinion of that realm.” She offered with a small smile.
“Yes.” He let out a breath. “I believe she will.” Loki walked out of the nursery and headed for his own rooms. Once safely ensconced there, he fell back on his bed, chuckling darkly. It had taken a great deal of self control not to kill Celsck, but the image of him hissing in pain from the wound Natasha had given him and Sif asking why he was wailing over a little nip to the hand (much to Loki's delight, he was certain the man would have a scar for at least a few decades) made not doing anything other than giving the warrior a cold look had been worth remaining silent.
Tomorrow, he would start looking in earnest for a tutor for his little girl; Midgardian she may be, but the child had all the instincts of an Æsir. He sighed and sat, still chuckling to himself as he made his way to his study. There were reports to read, from both here and throughout the Nine Realms. It really would help if Thor would do his reading too; having to give him an overview of the papers before the two of them had dinner with the Allfather so that Odin thought they were both reading... then again, since when had Father asked Thor any question other than 'When are you going to formally start courting Lady Sif' and 'What have you been doing on the training grounds'?
*
Laufey arched an eyebrow at the missive, before giving the Jotun ambassador to Nidavellir, Pella Scrayson, a surprised look. “This information is correct?”
“It was confirmed by the ambassador from Vanaheim.” He frowned. “Although he could not confirm whether the girl was his or if he merely found her.”
“It is of no concern, either way. A child is a child.” He balled the parchment in his fist and tossed it into the cold-burning fire. “This is a matter for another day. Do not speak of this with anyone, understood?”
“Yes, your majesty.” Pella bowed slightly.
“Good.” He settled back into his chair. “Tell me of what the rebels were seeking among the dwarves.”
Rating: PG
Warnings: Bullying
Summary: Being a parent is more difficult than Loki originally thought it would be. Thankfully, he does have people he can ask for help. The only one with helpful advice about Natasha's sleeping problem, however, is Volstagg. He also forgot one other thing; most residents of Asgard don't think of Midgardians with any sort of respect. Even adopted princesses. Littlest Valkyrie Verse
When he first brought Natasha back to Asgard, Loki hadn't really thought much about the details. He'd only been thinking of getting her out of the nightmare she was in. Well, perhaps he'd thought a little about what all he would have to do in caring for the girl, he just didn't expect there to be so much. His mother had taken care of getting the nursery ready, as well as finding clothing for her granddaughter. But in retrospect, these were just the tip of the proverbial iceberg. There was a nanny to hire, schooling to arrange, questions to answer, most of them more than twice, and still do all of his regular court duties - and spend time each day with his daughter.
The biggest problem seemed to be the psychological effects caused by the bastards at the Red Room, when it came to Natasha's well-being. She was afraid of the dark, of being alone, small enclosed spaces (which was discovered when she accidentally shut herself into a wardrobe) and loud voices. That was just the things Loki knew about. He had a feeling there were plenty more, waiting to make themselves known. Thankfully, she wasn't afraid of there being a monster under her bed. Then again, there was another problem; Loki couldn't get Natasha to sleep in her own bed in the nursery. She kept sneaking into his.
His mother had told him, quite plainly, that he couldn't let her continue to sleep there. If he kept giving in, then Natasha couldn't start to overcome many of her fears. Loki doubted his mother ever had to deal with him or Thor climbing into their parents' bed, although he could recall the two of them sharing one of the beds in the nursery on occasion, during particularly bad storms before Thor could control his powers or if one of them had a nightmare and didn't want Father to know they were scared.
Books weren't much help either, which was almost as frustrating. Having the vast library of Asgard fail to provide a solution to a problem was unthinkable. The methods suggested by the books he found were downright deplorable; making the child sleep on the floor, tie them into their own bed, everything was cruel. Cruel was one of the things Natasha definitely didn't need. So Loki went to the one person who might have had to deal with similar problem; Volstagg.
*
The bearded warrior felt that Loki must have been expecting something other than the look of pity he gave him. Volstagg sighed, decided that he would figure the reason for that later. “Every night?”
“Every night.” Loki rubbed his temple. “If it was once a week, I most likely wouldn't mind, but Natasha has her own room, and...”
“I understand.” Volstagg took a drink from his mug of mead. “You haven't woken up with her foot in your face, have you?” He managed a weak chuckle.
“No.” Loki bit back a laugh. “Although Natasha has managed to steal all the covers a few times.”
The man grinned. “Just be glad it's not winter.”
“Yes.” He ran a hand through his hair and took a drink from his own mug. “I suppose that helps some.”
Volstagg tapped his fingers against the mug, thinking. “Do you put her to bed every night?”
“Most nights.” Loki let out a breath. “There's only been a handful of times I haven't. I've told her she needs to stay where she is, but...”
“She's somehow managed to absorb her uncle's stubborn personality in the time she's been here.” He shook his head. “Tough love will not work in this situation, not with the sort of early years Natasha's had. It is similar to warriors who come from abusive homes. Full of piss and vinegar, ready to slay anything in their path, skill and caution be damned.”
Loki nodded in agreement, remembering some of the men who had joined Asgard's army, who seemed ready to fight at the tiniest provocation, taking no care for themselves - or their fellow warriors. “Aja, her nanny, leaves the lamps lit in the nursery well into the night, so it isn't the dark that's bothering her. Norns, I know Natasha's woken in my room in near pitch darkness, gone to the privy, and come back without a single problem.”
“That is most likely due to the fact that she knows you're there, Loki.” Volstagg sighed. “She believes that whatever is in the dark that scares her, if you're there, she feels safe.”
“I will not let any harm come to her. She knows that.” He frowned. “Perhaps she fears I will not be able to hear her if she has a nightmare, or...”
“Natasha is not like other children,” he held up a hand before the prince could interject. “Not many parents start off with a five year old, they start off with a newborn. A baby who sleeps in a crib until they are big enough for a bed will not have the same issues as one who spent years in a nightmare.” He took a long drink from his mug. “My children only seem to find their way into the bed with my wife and I if they've had a bad dream, or if they don't feel well.” He grimaced. “Be grateful you haven't woken up to find a vomiting child in your bed.” He was certain he went green from expression the prince gave him. “I think Natasha is more likely to soil a guard's boots than your bed, Loki. I have noticed she tends to shy away from them.”
“Given her past...” He sat back in his chair. “I have a feeling I should stop using that excuse. I cannot help her move forward if I keep using it as reason for the way she acts.”
Volstagg drained the last of his mug,repressing the urge to burp, a thought had suddenly come to him. “Does Natasha have any sort of plush animal?”
“I believe... yes, there are several my mother purchased, a bear, a dragon - and a unicorn. Why?” He frowned. “What are you thinking?”
“This may sound a little odd, but when I go away on quests, my wife puts the two plush animals into my wardrobe during the day; at night, she gives them to our children to help them sleep.” He held up a hand. “The animals absorb my scent during the day - they know I am gone, but somehow, the smell makes them feel safe. I cannot explain it, only that my wife assures me it works.”
Loki rubbed his chin, frowning. “But Natasha will know I am across the hall.”
“Why do you not at least try it? Go, put one of the plush animals in your room, in a place where it can soak up your scent - or failing that, put one of your pillows in her bed. That might work as well.” Volstagg offered him a weary smile. “Just make certain that Natasha knows that she needs to stay in her room, and in her bed.”
“I've told her that, she doesn't listen.” His hand fell. “I do not want to have to threaten her with punishment should she misbehave.”
“I am afraid it might come to that, if you are unable to break her of the habit.” Volstagg frowned into his empty mug. “These sorts of things are never easy, Loki.”
“I think it is not so much her sleeping where she is that bothers me.” He sighed. “It is the fact that she, a mere child, knows of horrors that no one should ever know.”
*
Natasha wanted to do as Papochka asked. Which was why she was hugging her plush dragon, staring up at the dancing shadows on the ceiling and walls of the nursery. Stars chased each other in lazy patterns, some disappearing behind the headboard, others skirted along the curtains and in the other room, she could hear Aja snoring very lightly. Through the open window, she could hear the scuffle of one of the guard's boots as they walked the length of the balcony that went from her room to the curve where it met the one in front of her grandparent's room, and then they returned. She was torn.
Every fiber of her being was telling her to do as she was bid, stay in her own bed, and go to sleep. But another part of her wanted to jump up, race out of the room and go to her father, knowing that she'd be safer there then here.
The bad people could not get her here. Papochka promised her that. Grandmother, Grandfather and Uncle Thor promised her that. There were more guards in her new home, dogs bigger and fiercer than any of the bad people had; she should feel safe.
Then why didn't she feel that way?
She sat up in bed, still holding onto her animal.
She was not going to leave the nursery.
She was going to stay in her room.
If she could just figure out what was scaring her, maybe then she could fall asleep.
Natasha held out her hands and some of the star-lights swept over them, changing colors and then went on their journey anew. “Am I scared?” She hugged her dragon a little tighter and took in the bed chamber again. The bed itself wasn't a problem - it was soft, warm and so big, wider than she was tall. She had a mountain of pillows and blankets, and honestly, it was practically a nest. So it wasn't the bed.
She listened to the guards click past her windows again, the tiniest sound of creaking leather accompanied their strides.
It wasn't the guards. They moved more quietly than the ones from the bad place - and they were nicer too.
It wasn't Aja. Aja took care of her.
Wardrobe, toys, furniture - all of it was dismissed and she frowned. What was it that made her want to leave this room every night and go to Papochka's? Natasha yawned, fell back against the pillows, and snuggled into the one she used in her father's room. She closed her eyes, skirting the edge of sleep, about ready to let slumber take her - and then the stillness of the night was shattered. It wasn't thunder, rain, or anything she could give name to - whatever it was, it altered the guards and there was the sound of running feet. The sky outside her windows suddenly shone as bright as day, but it wasn't blue, it was red, and she could see great metal demons dropping something on the city, explosions setting the world on fire.
Rather than escape to where she wanted to go, determined to obey, the little girl pulled the covers over her head and huddled underneath them as the sounds grew loud, the palace foundations shaking and then the screaming started. Someone was screaming, so loud and high, it drowned out the sounds of the explosions, of the guards, of the panic...
“NATASHA!” Hands suddenly took hold of her arms and the world went quiet.
She blinked, looking around her room in surprise. The lights were on, the guards were standing in the doorway to the balcony, Grandfather and Grandmother were standing in the doorway with Uncle Thor, Aja was standing near the guards - and Papochka was sitting on the bed, his face ashen. It was... the demons in the sky, the explosions - she'd been dreaming. She swallowed, the terrified feeling giving way to one of shame. “I'm sorry.” She said, barely whispering.
“It's all right.” Papochka gave her a hug, pressing her face against his chest.
She could hear the others leaving, and she sniffled. “I didn't mean to wake everyone up.”
“I was not asleep just yet.” He let go and smoothed down her hair. “Now, little fox, tell me what you were dreaming about.”
*
“They are called airplanes, majesty.” Heimdall's gaze did not flicker from his watch as the queen asked him of the objects that plagued the newest member of the royal family's dreams. “Did the All-Father tell you of Midgard's war?”
“Yes.” Frigga came forward, deeper into the observatory. “But if Loki is correct of that compound's location, it does not make sense that Natasha knows what is going on elsewhere.” She frowned. “Or have Midgardians found a way to share images in a more timely manner?”
“Indeed my queen, they have. Moving pictures, they are called. A recent development, but one that is available in many of Midgard's countries.” Heimdall gave the barest hint of a wince. “It is possible that Natasha has seen these attacks on cities in a moving picture.”
The queen shook her head. “Children should not be shown such things. It is horrible enough that many must suffer through it.”
“I fear this war will only grow worse, even now one empire is preparing to attack another, which currently remains neutral.” His eyes narrowed. “A sleeping giant, one of the generals of this army calls it.”
“Are they giants?” Frigga frowned. “What an odd metaphor.”
“The neutral empire has plentiful resources, once this attack comes, all of Midgard shall be engulfed.”
“Perhaps this shall be their last war.” She folded her hands. “Then again, how many times has that hope been dashed?”
“Midgard will learn, my queen.” Heimdall shifted the observatory walls and now, the stars showed the distant reaches of space, and a faint twinkling of blue caught her eye.
Jotunheim.
“Thank you, Heimdall.” She turned and walked away from the guardian, pausing at the start of the rainbow bridge. “What year is it now on Midgard, has the new one begun?”
“Indeed it has, my queen. It is now nineteen forty-one, as they measure things.” Heimdall replied.
“Yes.” She headed back for the palace.
*
“Lady Sif, I think you have a second shadow.” Fandral declared at the end of a particularly grueling training session.
“I beg your pardon?” The warrior frowned at her friend and then slowly turned, just in time to see a tiny red-haired figure dart behind a pillar.
“See, I told you.” Fandral gestured with his foil. “Natasha has been watching you for the past hour and you never noticed.”
“She was watching all of us, I knew she was there.” Sif replied indignantly, before taking a step towards the pillar. “Don't tell me you can see through stone, Natasha. Or if you can, you must tell us how you managed such a feat.”
The girl's face slowly appeared, a stubborn look on her face. “Are you teasing me?”
“Not in the presence of your uncle.” Fandral stated, a laugh in his voice, turning around. “Speaking of, where is...”
A loud boom echoed across the training ground, shaking the ground, and it was followed by a boisterous laugh.
“When is he going to stop showing off?” Sif snorted and turned back towards Natasha, only to find that she was behind the pillar again. “I think we should sic Thor's niece on him. Maybe she can get him to act like an adult.” She shook her head and went over to where the girl was staying hidden. “You know this is just practice, right? No one is going to get hurt.”
Natasha looked up at her, nodding slowly. “It sounds real.”
“And how would you...” Sif frowned and crouched down to the girl's level. “I suppose you're right. It does sound very real. But no one is going to get seriously hurt. And your uncle Thor tends to act like he's your age.”
That brought a giggle. “He's silly.”
“Who's silly?” Fandral had come over to the two of them. “Certainly not I.”
Sif rolled her eyes. “You're the silliest one of the lot, Fandral.” She stood up.
“Nonsense. I only seem that way to you, Lady Sif, because you and Hogun are far to serious.” The man chuckled. “Which leaves Volstagg to be the voice of reason.”
“I would not say...”
“What is that doing here?” A sharp voice rang out across the training ground, loud enough to bring all conversation to a close.
Sif felt her back stiffen. She knew that voice and she slowly turned towards it. Just as she suspected, it was Celsck, a warrior who was the same size as Hogun, and was as tactless as the Vanir warrior was silent. “You're going to have to more specific...”
He cut her off and pointed directly at Natasha. “That. What is that stupid Midgardian bitch doing here?”
Silence continued to reign on the grounds and a quick glance told Sif that neither of the princes were within earshot; that and the fact that Celsck was still breathing.
“I am not stupid.” Natasha's voice quivered slightly as she spoke. “You're mean!”
“All Midgardians are stupid. Even bloodthirsty frost giants know that!”
“Enough.” Sif growled, stepping between Natasha and the warrior. “Leave her alone.”
“Let the little brat fight her own battles, Lady Sif.” Celsck spat.
She felt the girl come around to stand next to her, and she glanced down to see that Natasha was doing her best not to look scared. “You must be mad to think anyone would let you do this.”
“The little bitch should run back off to play with dolls. The same place you should have stayed.” He spat.
Fandral quietly drew in a breath. “Is he trying to get himself killed?” His voice was just low enough that only Sif could hear it.
“She's just a...” Sif started as Natasha stepped out of her grasp and up to Celsck - it was like looking at a mouse meeting a tiger.
“Well, the little brat comes for a beating.” He laughed. “I'd have thought the new pet would be kept in a cage, not wandering about freely.”
“What do you think you're doing?” Volstagg finally broke the silence and started forward from the other side of the training ground.
“Teaching this thing her place.” Celsck raised one hand and started to bring it down.
The next sound that echoed through the grounds wasn't the slap of palm on cheek.
It was Celsck screaming in pain as Natasha latched her mouth onto the ball of his thumb and hung onto his arm as she bit into his hand, hard.
“You little shit!” He swung his arm, trying to dislodge her. “You disgusting...” He flung her to one side, not looking to see who was there, and the girl flew off, tumbled head over heels; and landed at her father and uncle's feet.
Loki looked murderous and Thor looked more than willing to help hide the body.
Celsck's hand was dripping with blood; the girl had broken skin. “You...”
Natasha, apparently emboldened by her actions, got to her feet, shaking. “Just you wait until I get my big girl teeth! I'll bite your hand off!”
Sif and Volstagg were the first ones to start laughing.
*
“I think we should tell Loki the truth.” Frigga knew it wasn't the best way to start dinner with her husband, but she had been silent on the matter for the past hundred and fifty years. “It is high time he knew.”
Odin sighed. “I thought we agreed this matter was closed, Frigga.”
“You agreed. I did not. Loki should be told.” She sliced her roast boar into smaller pieces. “Things are changing throughout the Nine Realms, the plans you had for him on Jotunhiem will no longer work.”
“I know that.” Odin took a drink from his goblet. “But I do not know what else there is for him; he knows that either he or Thor will ascend to the throne, but in telling him the truth, he will know that the throne is his brother's.”
“Thor will need his brother. Norns, he needs his brother now, I do not believe he knows the current status of any of the realms other than Asgard.” She stabbed at her meat. “Things cannot continue as they are.”
The Allfather set down his cutlery. “Frigga...”
“You know I am right.” She tightened her grip on her fork. “His is our son, Odin. He needs to know before it is too late. Before something happens and he finds out accidentally.”
“And how could that occur?” Odin remarked. “Jotunheim is not ready to open negotiations for trade with Asgard, there is still ill will between the two. I know that they trade with Alfheim and Nidavellir, I have reports from some of the...”
“Asgard may not be prepared, but it will not be long.” Frigga set her fork down. “We need to do this. We must.” She shook her head. “I am still in shock that he has not asked us why we did not protest him adopting Natasha.”
Odin rubbed at his temple. “You do have a point, Frigga. I take it you do not intend for us to tell him tonight.”
“There has been enough excitement for one day, I believe.” She picked her fork back up. “Before the month is out. We need not tell Thor just yet, but Loki needs to know. The sooner, the better.”
*
Loki finished tucking his daughter into bed, trying to keep his face stern. “What you did today was extremely foolish, Natasha. Celsck could have killed you.” He sat down and brushed her hair out of her face with his hand. “Promise me that you will never do something like that again.” He paused. “At least, not until you are the same size as Lady Sif.” Not that he wanted to think of the girl fighting at all.
She blinked sleepily at him. “I promise.” She grimaced. “His hand tasted terrible.”
“I can only imagine, as I have never bit someone.” He shrugged. “That I can remember.”
Natasha half yawned, half giggled. “I am not stupid.”
“No, you are not stupid.” He kissed her forehead. “You are a clever girl.” He fussed with the hem of the blanket as she snuggled under the covers, tucking it around her shoulders and the top of the plush dragon. “A little bit of a risk taker...” He gave her the barest hint of a smile. “Exactly like myself.”
She grinned and closed her eyes. “Good night, Papochka.”
“Good night, Sasha.” He kissed her forehead again. “Sweet dreams.” Loki tapped the lamp by the bed, casting the shadows into the shapes of horses, slowly prancing around the walls. He stood and left the bedchamber, shutting the door quietly behind him. When he came into the main room of the nursery, he found Aja standing there, looking rather contrite.
“Again, your grace, I want to...” She started to say, but he cut her off by raising his hand.
“It was not your fault, Aja.” He sighed. “I am afraid Natasha is going to have to deal with people insulting her for her Midgardian heritage for a very long time.”
“Perhaps she will help change the opinion of that realm.” She offered with a small smile.
“Yes.” He let out a breath. “I believe she will.” Loki walked out of the nursery and headed for his own rooms. Once safely ensconced there, he fell back on his bed, chuckling darkly. It had taken a great deal of self control not to kill Celsck, but the image of him hissing in pain from the wound Natasha had given him and Sif asking why he was wailing over a little nip to the hand (much to Loki's delight, he was certain the man would have a scar for at least a few decades) made not doing anything other than giving the warrior a cold look had been worth remaining silent.
Tomorrow, he would start looking in earnest for a tutor for his little girl; Midgardian she may be, but the child had all the instincts of an Æsir. He sighed and sat, still chuckling to himself as he made his way to his study. There were reports to read, from both here and throughout the Nine Realms. It really would help if Thor would do his reading too; having to give him an overview of the papers before the two of them had dinner with the Allfather so that Odin thought they were both reading... then again, since when had Father asked Thor any question other than 'When are you going to formally start courting Lady Sif' and 'What have you been doing on the training grounds'?
*
Laufey arched an eyebrow at the missive, before giving the Jotun ambassador to Nidavellir, Pella Scrayson, a surprised look. “This information is correct?”
“It was confirmed by the ambassador from Vanaheim.” He frowned. “Although he could not confirm whether the girl was his or if he merely found her.”
“It is of no concern, either way. A child is a child.” He balled the parchment in his fist and tossed it into the cold-burning fire. “This is a matter for another day. Do not speak of this with anyone, understood?”
“Yes, your majesty.” Pella bowed slightly.
“Good.” He settled back into his chair. “Tell me of what the rebels were seeking among the dwarves.”