Apologies for my absence for the past couple of months! Whether the sentiment was reciprocated or not, it hurt to be away from creative writing and Fanfiction in general for so long...
Another kind of AU here, because of that unrealistically large age gap between Thor and his friends in comparison to Loki. Sif's POV. She and the others besides Loki would be in their teens here. Please don't take this story seriously at all! It's just for fun. Although it gave rise to another possiblereason behind why Sif dislikes Loki when they're older, though it isn't really my head canon: if shemanaged to prove others' expectations of her (as a female) wrong, why couldn't he? Why did he have to complain and insist on sticking with his magic and tricks and deceit?
RainbowStarMountain: this is long overdue, but thanks again for this idea of writing something with Sif maybe having to babysit a very young Loki! This is a bit longer than just a snippet though.
It's late at night as I post this. It's night. I'm not nocturnal, nor good at pretending to be. So just apologies in advance in case anything seems off. I began this agggggeeeees ago, then quickly finished it today as a study break, and when I do that it's more likely there'll be errors like maybe something at the start exists or happens and then isn't addressed at the end or something. If you point out any plot line or grammar errors etc., I'll fix it up ASAP. (Not that I'm trying to use this as an excuse for poor writing, but just letting you know).
Apologies also for the potentially plain title. It was still nighttime when I entitled this.
One last thing: absolutely dying to see Ragnarok *tries for deeper breathing*
"Sif!"
She looked up from the cumbersome stack of books she balanced in her arms. Loud, jovial and confident. Thor was instantly recognisable by his tone of voice alone, but all in the chamber turned their heads from their morning doings to stare, regardless. Sif could almost never help but smile as she turned to watch him approach along the corridor.
"If you require assistance with the homework from our latest lesson on Jotunheim history, I am the wrong peer to ask, I am afraid, Thor." The most relevant tome for said task was perched atop the dreaded load in her arms. Its dull blue front cover appeared as boring as its dry pages. She was on her way to the main library chamber to spend the sunlit morning mulling over the chapters they were to next discuss.
"Worry not," he grinned. Thor's smile always reached his blue eyes whenever she saw it. "I am here to request your contribution to a much more endearing task."
Sif raised her eyebrows, intrigued.
"Father has asked me to aid the relocation of that wild drove of bilgesnipe they found in the far eastern regions, along with Fandral, Hogun and Volstagg. It will take most of the day, and seeing as Mother is nearly always busy these days, can you care for Loki until we return?"
Her curiosity and enthusiasm gave way to a ridiculous image of herself sporting an apron and long dress whilst cradling the black-haired toddler, awaiting the boys' return.
"Is there no room for one more on this task?" She could not help but ask before assenting.
She was finally allowed to train in battle alongside the boys, but their friendly mockery – alongside other girls' and older women's half-hidden misgivings – still needled her every time her hands were empty of her training weapons and shield.
Thor's face jumped slightly with surprise at the question. Perhaps she was not smothering the involuntary aggravation as well as she thought.
"The four of us were a rushed addition ourselves. Father said four of the original operatives have to unexpectedly miss this one, but otherwise our team is no longer lacking."
"Does Loki not have the usual nursemaids to attend to him?"
"They will be around, but I simply thought you might like to spend a day with him – " He looked suddenly concerned.
Sif backtracked, slightly regretting her forcefulness. Though she would not if it led to accompanying them. "Then trouble yourself no longer about it, Thor. I'll mind Loki whilst you are gone."
Thor blinked with apparent sudden enlightenment. Flashes of intuition were not wholly uncommon of him, his other friends, or herself, but Sif wished heartily this one had not struck. She knew not how to explain to him why the prospect of babysitting – whilst the boys were away grappling with bilgesnipe – bothered her so. Also, she had never spent any significant length of time alone with the little prince. Or, indeed, any young children. She wondered if she should mentally brace herself for a tedious day.
"If you are adverse to minding my little brother, Sif, I can leave him to a nursemaid." His brow crinkled, though. But, to her relief, not with resentment. Sif shook her head quickly, waves of her gold hair bouncing around her books.
"I have no dislike of Loki, Thor. I simply wondered if I could be of some assistance on the bilgesnipe relocation." She quickly cemented her assent by asking, "Am I to guide him through a particular agenda today?" The question sounded more amiable than what am I supposed to do with him?
Thor beamed. Resignedly, Sif mentally transferred her plans of spear-fighting practice – and, more happily, the Jotunheim history readings – aside for the next day.
"None of that I am aware. I oft take him to explore the city and palace, or see other warriors spar. Sometimes he wants to play games in his nursery, or create artworks for Mother," Thor said. As an afterthought, he added, "Mother also tells me to coax him into practising writing numbers and letters."
At least she could pass the training grounds, if not participate herself. Perhaps a few of her sparring partners would be there to talk to briefly. Letting him practise writing sounded easy enough, too. She was not so sure about playing nursery games.
"We depart in an hour, but I must leave now to discuss our strategies with the others," Thor sounded almost apologetic, but too enthusiastic for it to sound wholehearted. Sif smiled over her twinge of envy.
"I will find Loki now, then. Where is he?"
"He should be with another maiden now, in his nursery." Thor adjusted the sheathed ornate paring knife at his belt, already preparing to turn and rush back through the corridor.
Trying not to sound miffed, she bade, "Farewell. Ensure the others do not do anything rash."
"The same, for my brother. Fare you well, Sif." He affectionately clapped her shoulder in goodbye before hurrying away.
She let herself feel her shoulders starting to strain under the mass of books, which she knew were embossing red lines into her arms with their hardcover edges. Rolling her eyes, she strode off.
Sif dropped her pile of books onto her desk, making a satisfying whump. At least her babysitting duties still gave her an excuse to again abandon the droll readings for the day.
After the guards at the nursery door announced her presence, there exited a prim-looking young woman with long red hair and a long red dress. Wrapping his hand around the tips of her fingers was Loki.
"Our eldest prince tells me Loki is to be with you for today." The woman's face softened considerably when she smiled. Sif could not gauge if she was relieved about her day off or not.
Loki said nothing. He just blinked up at Sif from under flops and tufts of dark hair. He was swathed in an oversized velvet blue child's cloak, which hid him save for his small brown shoes and short forearms. The hood was like an empty sack hanging at the nape of his neck.
Loki had always looked slightly odd to Sif. Around the palace, she occasionally saw young children – of the servants, guards, cooks and other palace staff – with dark hair, but only as far as brunet or dark red, never jet-black. Whenever Queen Frigga sat him on her lap at a banquet, his head was always a conspicuous black smudge wriggling around at the head of the table.
In the space of a few minutes, Sif found herself in the other woman's place, standing in the hallway with her fingers clutched in a soft grip. She wished fiercely the guards would stop staring at them; she guided Loki around the next corner.
Despite never having spent any great span of time with Loki alone, she could not have missed the adoring gazes and smiles he projected onto his older brother whenever Thor had him. When they walked a corridor or crossed a chamber, the angles of their necks were set – Thor looked ahead; Loki looked up and to the side, at Thor's face.
She was not particularly surprised that his first word to her, almost imploringly, was:
"…Tor?"
"You're with me today, Loki." She realised she had little idea how to modulate her tone. She thought Thor would not particularly care for her to speak to Loki with the same patronising cooing oft heard for other young children. Just treat him like an equal Thor had shrugged once. But it felt odd speaking to him as if he were just another of their peers.
She watched his little brow crumple slightly, so like his older brother's way. She prayed to whatever higher beings existed that he would not cry. But apparently he was merely thinking deeply.
"Tor's away?"
"Yes, Thor is." She added, "I'm sorry. It is only for today."
"Where?"
"To a faraway town with other warriors. They're guiding some wild beasts away so people are safer."
Loki nodded thoughtfully. A little guilt prodded her insides at his disappointment.
"Tor's a hero," he decided. The edge of Sif's mouth tweaked upward.
"Yes, he is. Sometimes. Now, what shall we do today?"
Loki tilted his head, facing further down the hall. "Tor e'sploring…"
He then nodded at her. "Go 'sploring?"
Sif had undertaken lengthy treks in the wilder regions of Asgard before, feeling nothing but energy and the burn in her warm muscles.
Yet it somehow drained her to guide a toddler around the palace gardens and courtyards. Loki never seemed to walk straight, constantly veering from an adult route to peer around corners, try see over window ledges, reach doorknobs, and poke his way through shrubbery. Sif decided after a half hour it was considerably easier to just saunter a few paces behind him as he meandered. She only stepped in when he hid for too long in the undergrowth or headed for a steep staircase.
Three hours later, she was well into a glassy-eyed reverie as she tailed the little prince. It took her a minute to realise the midday hour had arrived.
"Loki?"
His pale face looked up from the silvery pink fish swirling in the courtyard fountain they stood at. The cream-coloured stone barrier of the fountain pool was high enough that Sif had to lift him to stand upon it.
"Are you not yet hungry?" She crossed her fingers surreptitiously, then releasing them in relief as he nodded thoughtfully. She thanked the heavens for being allowed to pass him onto a nursemaid to feed him lunch. And all bathroom-related things. Thor would not begrudge her disfavour to either of those.
Too soon did the servant find her in the hallway outside the banquet chambers, the tiny other figure holding the woman's hand and looking at Sif.
When Sif thanked her – Eira – she was given what she thought an overly approving smile. She gritted her teeth. How she wished she could have accompanied the boys. Loki's soft palm in hers felt as far as it possibly could from the firm handle of her blade.
"Now what shall we do?" She asked Loki with a little more tension in her jaw than necessary.
"Keep e'sploring?"
The idea of an entire mind-deadening afternoon following him around the palace grounds almost made her run after Eira to give him back.
"Why don't we watch the soldiers practice combat?" She suggested hopefully.
"Hm," Loki deliberated, forehead creasing as his eyebrows furrowed. Her heart started sinking.
"Is that not something you do with Thor?" She prodded gently.
After a pause, Loki nodded, taking hold of her fingertips again. Sif suppressed her sigh of relief.
The training arenas were situated far from the resting quarters and healing rooms of the palace; the noise it exuded always gave it a much wider radius than its solid boundaries, especially in the day. The thuds and clashes were strangely comforting to her ears, interspersed as they were with raillery and praise between training partners. As she and Loki rounded the corner, they were greeted by the familiar sight of darting figures brandishing weapons. She eyed the various matches: one-on-one, two against two, teams pitted against each other, and groups attacking a single fighter.
Out of habit, she slowed to a stroll to settle her gaze on one of the fights – a relatively simple one-on-one with a sword against a spear – and began picking out the flaws in their techniques as they scuffled. From this outer perspective, she felt sure she would not make the same mistakes as they did if she were in their positions. But then, she sometimes critiqued Thor similarly when he sparred, and yet he could still defeat her.
Admittedly, she had somewhat lost track of time until the spear-wielder spotted her staring. It looked like he then said something pointedly to his opponent, laughing condescendingly. She rolled her eyes.
"Your footwork needs more work!" She shouted across the field. It was a lie, but his sparring partner guffawed nonetheless before lunging forward again.
"They may be good, but Thor, Hogun, Volstagg and Fandral are better," Sif said in Loki's direction, still eyeing the scuffles. "And they do not let their arrogance precede them. Well, not because their opponent happens to be female, at least. Except for Fandral, and I can best Fandral." Loki nodded in her peripheral vision.
After a few more absorbed minutes, she added, "I hope you won't do that as you grow older, Loki, or you'll have me to answer to." She reached out to touch the top of his head, expecting to feel his plumy dark hair brush her fingers.
Which were met with nothing but air. Sif glanced down. Her tiny companion was not by her side.
Swiveling her head around so sharply her neck cricked, she saw no sign of him, not even small footprints in the dirt.
"Loki?"
Being abruptly devoid of his company, she allowed herself to curse loudly. After urgently checking that he had not somehow crawled into the sparring spaces that suddenly seemed lethal, she sprinted off.
No sign of him in the corridors they had followed earlier.
No sign of him in the corridors past the grounds.
No sign of him in the nearby gardens, nearby chambers, or sunlit outdoor walkways.
As she ran, she begged silently – please do not let him have climbed into a fountain or some such.
Sif did not particularly wish to ask any of the passing palace workers if they knew the whereabouts of the youngest prince. She heard a few murmur discreetly as she blew by them in the halls, but she just hoped they assumed she was hurrying to start those Jotunheim readings.
Passing the main nursery chamber, she inconspicuously checked if any of the staff had him. She cursed again upon seeing they did not.
"Please, please, please, Loki, your brother is going to try slaughter me. And as much as I deny it, he is still the stronger fighter."
"The Gatekeeper requires your presence."
Sif wheeled around to face the straight-backed messenger. It was no secret to Sif that female palace staff sometimes whispered admiringly of her looks, especially her golden hair. But the other young woman appeared positively pristine in comparison at that moment – Sif was sweating, panting and secretly panicking.
"But I have no time to ride a horse all the way to the Bifrost!" She blurted without thinking. Exactly why Heimdall might be calling for her specifically did not come to mind, though he never had before.
The messenger looked politely surprised. "Why ever not, Lady Sif?"
Sif pursed her lips. It was not like she was any closer to finding Loki anyway. "No, it is perfectly fine. I will see him now." The woman nodded, turning back around the corner with business-like strides.
Sif would never consciously acknowledge it, but the Gatekeeper faintly intimidated her. Heimdall had always struck her as imposing, even without the knowledge that he could see and know things she could not. She could never tell how he thought or felt. The only reason she had never thought to be suspicious of Heimdall was the Allfather's obvious faith in him.
In her present situation, however, she had no capacity to remember any of that upon meeting him. Dismounting from her horse, she slid to a stop before the gold-armoured Watcher, still harried and now windswept from the horse ride.
"You've lost the youngest prince." Heimdall stated by way of greeting. He sounded as calm as the waves of stars he watched. His yellow eyes appeared locked on some distant, invisible galaxy as he spoke.
"Err…" She refused to duck her head meekly, but sounded sheepish nevertheless.
"He is unnerving the guards in the Vault," Heimdall provided, simply. "I will not tell Thor if you so wish."
Sif refused to gape in surprise like a fool. "Thank you, Heimdall!" She dashed back down the lustrous bridge to her horse.
If she had not hurried off so soon, she might have seen Heimdall appear to suppress a smile. As it were, naught saw it except the sky.
Even merely approaching the Vault – let alone entering – always seemed to command a reverent, careful hush, even with the guards pacing alertly both outside and in. It was as though the artifacts inside were waiting for something. Listening, watching.
Sif sighed inwardly. It seemed Loki was determined to force her to confront everything in Asgard that daunted her, a furious Thor included.
To her confusion, one of the sentinels directly outside the Vault immediately pushed his way inside once she had rounded the corner. She made herself continue, slowing to a stop before the other man outside the dark double doors.
"I have no ranking over you, so I shall have to trust you not to tell anyone about this." This far underground, Sif's voice could echo off the stony cold walls whilst still sounding insignificant. The watchman waited respectfully.
"Was the youngest prince here?"
As if to answer her, the Vault entrance itself began to swing open. First to emerge from the treasury's murky belly was the guard that had entered upon seeing her. Two figures followed him out.
"Ah, here you are, Lady Sif."
It was almost worse than encountering Thor while Loki was missing. To Sif's mortification, the Queen was exiting the Vault to greet her, her golden hair elegantly wreathing her head in absence of any crown. But Frigga's smile appeared genuine, understanding. The other half of Sif's brain was suffused with relief as she saw Loki treading behind his mother, staring up at Sif and clutching a wisp of Frigga's forest-green dress like a tether.
Sif hurried forward. "I am… so sorry, Your Majesty, for… losing your son – " It sounded terrible both inside her head and aloud. She wished the guards were not there. She knew they were supposed to be the castle's constant eyes and ears as well as its fists, but at times it was just awkward.
"Thank you, Ingmar." Frigga nodded to the man who had retrieved her. She turned back to Sif after he stepped back to his post.
"Loki can be slippery. But he would not have left the palace grounds, what with all the watchmen and servers, and Heimdall. I've lost count of the number of times a messenger from Heimdall has told me where to find Loki, after Thor had 'misplaced' him. I suppose you were distracted for some minutes before realising he was no longer around?"
Sif nodded, managing only a "yes" under her breath. She vowed to avoid the training fields if anyone should ever trust her with a child again. It put her marginally more at ease learning that Thor himself often lost track of Loki, but she doubted mentioning that to him in her defence would be met with appreciation.
As Frigga spoke, Loki walked up to Sif and touched the edge of her skirt, still watching her. She could not help but feel a little indignant that he left so unexpectedly. Something might have happened to him without a guardian.
Frigga was saying, "He meant you no worry by leaving your care. I mean not to shame you by voicing this, but I suspect he wanders away when he thinks his custodian has lost interest in him."
Despite the reassurance, shame heated Sif's face and clenched her gut. She nodded again. Loki patted her knee.
"You still have my sincere apologies, Your Majesty. I won't let him out of my sight like that again." She sounded stronger, and Frigga smiled again gently.
"I know. Like with any young child, just pay a little extra attention. Now, can I trust you to let him finish admiring the relics here as I attend matters elsewhere?"
"Yes, my Queen," Sif said, still chagrined.
Her chagrin always served as extra tinder for her resolve to not disappoint again. She knew the question was rhetorical – in every encounter with Thor's mother, Frigga seemed to already trust her absolutely. Sif's heart burned to prove she was worthy of that.
"Don't either of you stare for too long at the object that resembles a moving eye," Frigga advised, waving a hand over her shoulder casually.
So horrified had she been at her err, Sif realised only then that she had not even greeted the Queen with so much as a bow of the head. Frigga had not seemed to notice, or mind. Still, Sif made sure to incline her head graciously as Frigga made to leave.
"Oh," the Queen added as if just remembering something, "and when I found him outside the Vault, Loki was asking for you."
Sif felt another flash of guilt that had nothing to do with letting his mother down.
"It's probably because I'm the only maternal-looking one around this area of the palace," Sif half-joked softly.
"Oh no, Lady Sif, he warms to anyone who cares for him." The sight of Frigga was cut off as she swept up the left stairwell.
Inside, the sentries patrolled, unrelentingly rhythmic like the ticking of a clock. Their quiet footfalls were the only noises in the cavernous chamber for a while as she stood there dwelling on her exchange with the Queen. She felt something suddenly touch her hand, and she flinched internally, glancing down. She let Loki curl his small fingers around her index finger as they began walking down the passageway. His footsteps sounded much more irregular than the guards', speeding up and slowing down between each relic.
"Next time, maybe stay by my side instead of wandering off and then looking for me," Sif murmured to him.
"You were there. With soldiers." Loki said back up to her. Sif stared at him before grimacing shamefacedly. Frigga said Loki had asked for her, not asked her whereabouts.
"You need more assertion. Next time, prod me. I'll pay attention."
He released her finger to examine the next item. It was a large gold gauntlet with empty sockets on each knuckle and one on the back of the hand.
Loki was quite methodic – in a childish, wide-eyed way – as he scrutinised the relics; one by one, down the aisle, as Sif strolled beside him and moved out of the guards' way. The last thing Loki stopped at was the famed hammer Mjolnir. Sif admitted privately she eyed this item in particular, slightly envious that Thor would one day receive it. It gleamed regally, like pure power. Still, at least it would be in the hands of someone so goodhearted.
Seeing it always reminded her of the times she, Thor's other friends and Thor himself would slip into the Vault to try lift it, for amusement that none of them admitted overlaid a slight trepidation. Sif itched to try again. But, surrounded by guards and without her friends, she wanted to be more inconspicuous.
As she passed the hammer, she bumped her palm against its smooth handle, hoping to feel it rock on its silver head. But she was not particularly surprised that it remained utterly stationary; not even Thor bore it yet. The sensation of trying to move Mjolnir was always the same to her – it was so heavy that it felt not heavy, but rather simply part of the ground.
"That one you can try play with," she joked to Loki, who was comically still shorter than the upright Mjolnir as he stood beside it. He reached up to poke the end of the handle with a tiny fingertip.
Sif felt her eyes bulge as she stared. She swore she might have seen it rock the tiniest fraction of an inch. But it was too difficult to be certain in the cool dimness.
Disinterested, Loki left it alone after tracing the engravings on its head, returning to hold onto her forefinger again.
"Go now?" He asked.
"Of course…" As they walked back up the aisle to the double doors, she said, "We'll keep that to ourselves, okay, Loki?" She suspected that, if Mjolnir had really shifted, it was because Loki simply had not lived long enough to do anything unworthy. But she did not want to dishearten Thor with the possibility his barely-coherent young brother beat him to it.
Loki just looked up at her quizzically.
They decided to return outside – it was rejuvenating bathing in the afternoon sunlight after the Vault. The warm light glinted in her hair, she knew, too. After a moment, Loki made her kneel next to him by tugging her skirt, before reaching up to touch a thick lock beginning above her ear.
"Like my hair, do you?" She smiled, feeling him lightly tug at it.
"Like Tor's," he said, sounding amazed.
"You love anything that's like Thor, don't you? You cannot have my hair though." Impulsively, she brushed strands of his night-coloured hair from his forehead. In the sun, it carried nearly unnoticeable dark shades of blue, grey and brown.
He blinked at her. With no one else around them, it was freeing for the moment to have no grownup societal prompts and borders. Maybe the Queen, between formally liaising with so many other royals, found rest spending time alone with her youngest son. "Do you not become fatigued in the afternoon, Loki? You've been running around all day, and possibly shifted an immovable object. And have made me run around after you."
On cue, a wide yawn squished Loki's eyes and cheeks, and stretched his mouth open.
Again on impulse, Sif stooped down to hoist him into her arms so he sat on her left hip.
"Tired." He leaned his head into the hollow of her neck. His hair tickled her chin lightly.
After some minutes walking, with the goal of finding one of the chambermaids to set him down to sleep, they were soon to pass the corridors leading to the training grounds again. She took a different route, away from the noise, letting his breathing slow down dreamily.
When Sif handed him, a dozing bundle, to the maid, she did not feel the same relief as before.
"Sif!"
It reminded her of the way the day had started. She turned around, seeing Thor approach. This time, the tall figures of Volstagg, Hogun and Fandral accompanied him, while the tiny figure of Loki clung to her finger.
"Tor!"
The grasp around her finger vanished instantly. They watched Loki dart from Sif to his older brother like a nail pulled from a strong magnet to a stronger one. Grinning, Thor let Loki collide into his leg in a hug. Sif smiled.
Unlike Thor, Fandral's toothy smile greeted her before his voice did.
"And how was babysitting duty this fine day, Nursemaid Sif?" he inquired. He twirled his sword garishly as he spoke, teasing. "You've not lived a day without lifting a weapon since you were allowed one."
She snorted. "You speak as if I cannot beat you at least twice of three matches. I doubt you were even allowed to wield that blade of yours against the bilgesnipe."
Fandral grimaced before his jaunty smile sprang up again. "It served as fair warning to the beasts not to try cross me as we wrestled them away from the edge of Hergavatn."
"What was Hergavatn like?" None of them except Thor had visited the town before.
"Quaint, and full of fair maidens," Fandral grinned again. Sif raised eyebrows.
"A little too obscured by the trees for my liking," Hogun responded, checking the soles of his boots for dirt and rocks.
"But they served us excellent cloudberry cakes and wine for our service." Volstagg defended. Thor laughed.
"Only because your stomach growling frightened the bilgesnipe, my friend. The residents were feeling merciful towards them."
"So what was the royal nursery like?" Fandral turned back to her.
"Oh, I did not even enter it," Sif said. "I think Loki covers more of the palace than you three do in a day."
"Did he misbehave?" Thor asked. "He's ever had a tendency to mischief when I've had care of him."
She hesitated. "He managed to slip away from me once this afternoon for a short while." If she kept the fact from Thor that Mjolnir had yielded to another – albeit, the tiniest possible amount, and assuming her sight not been jesting with her – then she would be truthful about temporarily losing Loki.
Thor just chuckled, playfully shaking the leg Loki still hung on to. "He is indeed slippery. I am glad you and he are well."
"Save for my panicking, it was an enjoyable day."
As if listening to their conversation, Loki craned his head around to fix his green eyes on her. He extended a small hand in her direction.
She added, "Your little brother is such a brat. He insisted all day that I grow to like him, and being the little prince he is, he got what he wanted."
Thor beamed.
Sif let her fingertips meet Loki's outreaching ones.
"So would you be willing to babysit him again next time we leave?"
She made a face. "Er. It's Fandral's turn next time."
Fandral snorted. "No offence, Sif, but I am afraid the resulting tradeoff between my weaponship and yours for our next journey would not be helpful."
She raised her eyebrows. Loki looked up at Fandral, confused.
"But Sif best you," he quipped innocently. She, Thor and Volstagg guffawed as Fandral's jaw dropped. Even Hogun smiled faintly.
Loki watched their mirth curiously.
She brushed the top of his head lightly, as she had meant to earlier that day before realising he had vanished. "I think you and I are going to be great friends."
Reading it after writing it reminded me of Manny and that toddler's growing relationship in the first Ice Age film.
Also, I had to use the word "squished" in there somewhere.
Hope you liked it :)