Silver Bells

It was Christmas Eve and the temperature had dropped well below zero, as the sun began to set in the pale periwinkle sky. Along the quiet streets and lanes, large icicles hung from every tree and homestead; with countless snow banks happily covering the ground in fluffy white sheets. To most, this would have been reason enough to stay indoors with a piping cup of cocoa and sit beside a blazing fire. But to the God of Mischief it was the perfect inspiration to go out.

For the longest time, the Trickster had watched the cream-shaded horizon from his window, gauging the time and distance he needed to travel, before his mind was made up. With warmed blue-green eyes, he looked down at the small figure sleeping in his arms. Eira, his precious daughter who had just turned one, was a beautiful little girl. And as she gently breathed in a state of slumber, the child was even more enthralling to her father. With each inhale and exhale, her little chest would rise and fall; her chubby-baby cheeks puffing out ever so slightly as her lashes fluttered against her closed eyelids. His little girl would be a breaker of hearts one day- of that much Loki was certain. But he still had some time yet before he was forced to chase the hordes of suitors away. So he would enjoy her youth to the fullest, and prepare himself for the day when someone would try to take her away. (Just let them try . . .)

For a moment more the proud father watched his babe in silence; basking in the feeling of her little heartbeat and light weight. Before he gently leaned down to nuzzle her with his nose; feeling his own heart flip as her little face turned to return the favor.

It was amazing how the child responded to his attentions and affection. Whether she was wide awake or lost to the land of dreams, Eira would always find him and snuggle in closer. It was an almost sixth sense she had; finding her father whenever he was near and holding onto him with all her might.

It was an encouraging thought to Loki; that his little one needed him as much as he needed her.

"It's time, my darling," he crooned softly as he moved away from the window and towards the doorway of the house they shared.

Within a few steps of his long-legged stride, Loki had made it to the entryway- though he paused before reaching out for the handle. At the moment, his attention was only focused on Eira, as he checked the blanket that she was wrapped in. With a deft hand, the Trickster tucked in all the loose ends of the covering; making sure she would stay warm, before he brought her safely into the crook of his neck and entered out into the cold evening air.

The initial blast of winter breeze was quite refreshing to Loki, as he began to trudge through the snow-coated lane. So much so, that he smiled and held his daughter closer, so she could benefit from his body heat. It wouldn't do for her to get sick in time for Christmas and the aftermath of Yuletide. And obediently Eira burrowed deeper into his neck; the Trickster continued on his way.

Usually, when he traveled about the Midgardian town where he had settled, Loki would place Eira in a carrier. But tonight he had opted to hold her. He wanted her at hand. Which a mortal baby-seat would not allow.

For several, uncounted minutes the God traversed the deserted streets. His stride was unburdened by the thick snowfall, as the sun began to slowly disappear beneath the view of the skyline. The light was dimming, but seeing as it was winter, the hue of everlasting white would keep it from becoming truly dark. (Which was something the Trickster was ultimately grateful for.)

As he progressed at a steady pace, Loki let his hand methodically rub the tykes' little back, and drew towards his final destination. Though this action was comforting to the baby, it was also doing him a world of good as he fought to stay balanced.

Then, after what seemed like forever and no time at all, Loki halted and stood in silent contemplation. Before him the world of suburbia had faded into a secluded fielded area- still within the limits of the town, but far from the jumbling crowd of mortals.

Not too far off, Loki could see a single tree rising from the center of the meadow, and he knew he had reached the end of his journey. Though the Mischief Maker remained sedentary for quite some time; staring at the spot with a face full of emotion, before a wiggling bundle brought him back to the present. Looking down, Loki's somewhat misty eyes were met with bright carmel ones.

"Hello, sweet girl," he welcomed peaceably, his mood becoming lighter just by looking at her. "Are you ready?"

At the sound of his voice, the year old's little mouth up-turned into a guileless smile and she cooed contentedly. Eira had yet to speak words- other than occasional 'dada' or extended 'no'- but what she lacked in verbal capacity she more than made up for with sounds and facial expressions. Her little eyebrows pulled up almost comically as she tried to reach out to grab her daddy's face- but her movement was restricted by the folds of the blanket and she was deterred. At her cry of annoyance, Loki leaned down to peck her baby-fat cheeks, before giving her an affectionate Eskimo kiss. And as his nose rubbed against her smaller one and she giggled, the God found himself taking strength from his child's light. He had come for a reason, and both he and Eira deserved to have the moment that awaited them.

"I will let you out of your confinements soon, dear one," he assured his tyke. "But you must wait for the gratification."

As Eira continued to jabber at him aimlessly, the Mischievous One began to drift towards the solitary tree within his sights. It was a Birch- barren of foliage but still majestic against its surroundings. And it was a tree that Loki had only seen twice before. The first time being when he had met his wife, and the second . . . the second had been exactly a year prior.

As the Trickster finally came to stand beneath the leafless branches, a bittersweet smile rose to cover his lips. It seemed like a lifetime since he had stood here, and for a moment it was almost too much to handle. . . Before a deliberate cooing echoed against his chest, and a small hand smacked against his cheek with a muted thud.

Loki swallowed back the thick lump in his throat, before he raised a dark eyebrow to his daughter.

"My darling, you are rather impatient this eve. . . Though I suppose I cannot blame you for that. . ." He unwrapped the blanket from the little girl with a single movement, before he turned her around to face the tree. "Come now, little one. . . Come and meet your mother."

Eira's eyes grew wide, almost as if she understood, before her little hands clapped together and she grew quiet. Loki watched her intently, before his own eyes traveled to the spot of her focus. On the trunk, imbedded deep within the bark, was a single carving. It was smooth, and seemed to glow in the diminishing light. It was a symbol; a monument that the Trickster would always hold dear.

"She loved you very much, Eira," Loki whispered in the baby's ear, as she continued to stare the mark. "She wanted more than anything to be your mother. . . But her time came sooner than we were able to comprehend. . ."

Loki's voice broke with emotion as flashes of memory invaded his thoughts. Of the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, lying in a colorless hospital room, holding a crying newborn.

It had been a year since his wife had died. A year since he had thought his existence would end; but had been sorely surprised. The pain of her passing had never gone away, and never would . . . But somehow his heart had continued to beat, on behalf of the child he now held firmly to him.

"Christmas was always her favorite time of year," he breathed as several tears slid down to glide across his pale face. "And I believed that in honor of her, we could start a new tradition . . ."

With his free hand, Loki reached out to touch the symbol he had made at his wife's funeral, and remembered the happiness that had been brought into his life because of her. Tenderly, he traced the lines with his forefinger, before it was joined by Eira's chubby digits. Though as they landed to rest upon his, the Trickster's breath caught in his throat. For her skin was no longer its normal shade. . . It was still healthy and intact, but was now a brilliant shade of . . . blue. . .

With emotional blue-green eyes, the God of Mischief looked down at his daughter, before he encased her hand in his own palm; his skin shifting into a deeper blue to match her. She was beautiful . . . just like her mother . . . and him . . . the Jotun that had been lost for so long.

Loki brought Eira's fist up and kissed it with a shaky, little laugh. Then, he raised his free hand up in a deliberate motion over the tree. In mere seconds, a green mist had manifested and covered the ancient birch. But then, just as quickly, the mist faded . . . though the tree had been forever changed.

Upon the branches that had been barren, a thousand silver bells tinkled in song, as new snowflakes fell from the cream and periwinkle sky. They shone and rang out in the still Christmas Eve night, playing a melody that was both joyful and sad in honor of their lost mother and wife.

Loki and Eira watched them together for an unknown amount of time. Encased in the memory they were making- before the father slowly turned away and began the trek homeward. On the way back, his little Jotun baby laughed unceasingly as she planted slobbery kisses to his smiling face. A new twinkle having taken purchase in both their eyes, as they entered back into the warmth of their home.

Though even after they had disappeared into the snowy distance, the bells continued to ring on the breeze. And the symbol of evermore engraved upon the birch tree, sparkled as a beacon of blissful hopes and dreams.

A/N: Hey there guys! ^^ I figured we needed some more Loki fluff/angst this Holiday Season, so here ya go. ;) I honestly love the idea of Loki being a father and Eira was a fun baby to write for. So hopefully I'll be able to write more stories for them in future.

** Also, for the full effect of the story, I highly recommend listening to Ice Dance from the Edward Scissorhands Soundtrack while reading. You won't regret it. ^_~

Hope ya'll liked it! Merry Christmas, my dears!

~Lyn