Author's Note- I own nothing from Marvel.
Thank you to Tashio for the suggestion!
Ch. 1
Volstagg
When Volstagg first awoke on the first day of April, he was pleasantly surprised to smell sausage cooking and fresh bread baking. He smiled as he rolled over and saw that the rest of the bed was empty, that his dear wife had already gotten up and was busily making him breakfast. He knew it was his morning to cook, so it made the gesture that much sweeter. He was about to sit up in bed when he heard a chorus of "Papa, Papa". Before he knew it, he felt the soft thud of the first child to launch himself into his waiting arms. The youngest one, Birgir, was not yet three and he was so proud he had won the race to his father's embrace.
He managed to hold three of them, squirming in his arms as they breathlessly informed him of the various misdeeds of their siblings. The fourth one, AldÃs, was eleven and she just stood at the side of the bed, arms crossed, rolling her eyes at the complaints of her younger brothers and sister. One had stolen a doll from another, another wouldn't share a ball and the third had knocked over a tower of wooden blocks that had been built. Volstagg tried to listen seriously to their concerns instead of just grinning at their adorable, earnest faces.
After meting out justice to all the offenders and trying to settle all their disputes as fairly as possible, he gently disentangled himself and sent the lot of them off to wash up for breakfast as he got changed himself. His stomach growled as the smell of his wife's cooking intensified and he couldn't wait to eat.
As he entered the kitchen, he saw his wife, Dalla, standing over the stove. He came up behind her and encircled her waist, planting a rough kiss on her soft cheek. "And how is the fairest wife in all the Nine Realms doing this fine morning?" he murmured sweetly into her ear.
"Good, my love. Just a bit tired," she replied as she stirred the porridge.
"There are ways to perk you up," he countered saucily as his hands began to wander a bit.
"Oh, no," she giggled as she swatted his hands away. "That's how we ended up with four children."
"Five," he reminded her as he patted her rounded belly before stepping back a bit. "How can I help you?"
She turned and kissed him soundly, running her fingers impishly through his beard. "That is the best question any man can ask his wife. Can you have the children set the table?"
"As you command, my dear," he said heartily as he rounded up his brood and set them to their various tasks. The youngest helped with placing napkins at each place settings, while the others prepared the rest of the place settings. Soon, breakfast was ready as they quickly helped their mother bring the food to the table.
Volstagg's mouth watered as the children passed the food around. There were sausages, freshly baked bread and butter as well as porridge sweetened with berries and cream. He recalled all the mornings that he was away from home, fighting on various worlds to preserve the peace for Asgard, eating hardened stale biscuits and dried meats and missing his home so much that he ached. It wasn't just the food he missed; it was the sense of family and love. He and his wife had waited centuries to start a family, relishing their time together as a couple. Now, though, that they had started a family, he couldn't believe that they had waited so long to fill their home with such joyful noise. He couldn't help but grin as the little ones dug into their breakfasts and were strangely quiet.
As he lifted the first forkful, he gave his wife a wink. He took a bite and reared back his head. There was something wrong. Something tasted off. He grabbed a cup of water and washed the bite down, certain he had just bitten into a burnt piece of the sausage. He lifted another forkful of meat to his mouth and cautiously sniffed it, and once again, the heavenly aroma filled his nostrils. But, as he bit down once again, the repellent taste filled his mouth, reminiscent of ash and soot.
He looked around the table and saw the rest of his family happily chewing on their food. He glanced at his wife who shot him a confused look. He smiled wanly and decided to eat some bread. It was possible that his sausage was bad and he didn't want to mention it to his wife, especially after all the hard work she had gone to prepare his meal. Unfortunately the bread tasted the same as the sausage and his attempts at eating the porridge were similarly thwarted.
Every single bite tasted the same.
Ash.
Soot.
Volstagg began to panic as he now knew it was he who had the problem and not the food. The rest of the family was cheerfully munching away. He ran through the possibilities quickly in his mind. He could go to the healers to see what ailed him.
But then, he looked around at his family.
Since today was a day of rest, he had promised his wife that he would take all four children to a lovely garden at the far side of town for the day. They had all packed lunches for it and were excited to play amid the flowers and meadows. His wife was looking forward to having lunch with a friend of hers and to enjoying a rare day without the children. He couldn't bear to disappoint her. He'd put off seeing the healers until tomorrow. He was sure he'd feel better tomorrow morning.
He stood to clear his plate. His wife's look of concern deepened to shock. "Volstagg, are you quite alright?"
"Oh, yes, my dear," he lied quickly. "I just ate so much at dinner that I've not got much of an appetite this morning. I'll get the dishes started and when I've done, the children and I will be on our way."
"Thank you. You are the best husband ever."
"That's what I tell everyone else. No one believes me," he said jovially as he began to clear the plates.
As he packaged up the leftovers, he let out a small whimper. He was so disappointed that he had missed out on one of Dalla's beautiful breakfasts.
He didn't notice a cackle of glee from a darkened corner.
Author's Note- Next up, the rest of the Warriors Three!
