Chapter 3: Valhalla Can Wait

The atmosphere was distorted.

When Eira awoke in the morning, she ate breakfast with Loki in her chambers, rather than the dining hall. Her father usually kept an indifferent composure, but he was anxious. Eira saw his hands, twitching at an inconsistent rate. She noticed and put her small hand on his, smiling as her father lifted his head in confusion, but he too eventually grinned back.

The happiness was temporary.

Grabbing the horns of his helmet, he gave a simple order to his daughter: "Stay in our chambers. Don't leave until I come back. There is a danger at the moment. If you get hungry, there is food in the cabinets. Please, Eira. I cannot let you get hurt."

Eira nodded. One he put his helmet on, he felt a force against his legs. He looked down, seeing his daughter hugging his leg with her mother's grin on her face. Kneeling to her height, Loki rubbed her raven curls and pulled her into a hug.

"I love you," he said before leaving the room.

She was alone for four hours. Reading, drawing, practicing magic, she passed the time with ease. During breakfast, her father mentioned war, so she assumed he was probably fighting. Frigga, her grandmother, had been by the All-Father's side for days, waiting hopelessly for him to wake. Unlike the other times, while Loki was away, there was no one to watch her.

The person to open the doors of her chambers was Loki. Yet when the doors diverted, sunshine slowly entering and erasing the shadows, Sif appeared.

"Oh, thank, Valhalla!" Sif said with relief. She ran to Eira with her arms open, closing them around the princess when she was at a close distance. "We were so worried. Thor demanded I look for you. Oh wait, I was supposed to tell him. Thor! I found Eira!"

Burly footsteps echoed through the halls. They stopped at the doors, replaced with alleviation. After all the bloodshed, family feuds, and abandonment of a lover, Thor was pleased to see his niece alive and well.

"Eira."

Thor removed his niece from the hold of Sif. Lifted into his defiant hold in seconds, Eira floundered to adjust her sights. She should have been beatific that her uncle had returned from his banishment, but she was confused. Her father said he would retrieve her from their chambers once the battle had finished. Where was he?

"Uncle Thor?" Eira asked, lifting her head in Thor's tight hold. "Did Daddy tell you to get me? Where is he?"

No answer came.

Thor and Sif froze their movements. The latter looked at the distance; no destination or object of particular interest, words escaped her mind, scared of the reaction of the three-year-old an arm's length away, but Eira paid no attention. Her senses restricted to Thor, she felt his grasp moderating, his heartbeat quickening, and the loud echo of his panicked breaths.

Jade-colored eyes widened. The atmosphere thickened in uneased malformation. Eira needed information about the whereabouts of her father, not lost answers.

"What happened to my daddy? Where is he?" Her voice weakened and trembled, the unusually strong demeanor of the princess drifting. The adults continued their silence, though their fear intensified.

They should have answered sooner. With a switch, Eira cried rivers. Thor looked at his quaving niece, his eyes alluding an abundance of sympathy.

"Eira, your fath ... uh, your father is gone," Thor struggled to speak. Would he dare mention the cruel fate of death to a being with purely three and a half years of life? "He fell into the abyss." That was a fine enough description, right?

Eira's wails became hysterical. She screamed in desperation, wanting nothing more than the warm, consoling embrace of her father.

"Daddy can't be gone, he can't be!" she yelled and kicked. "He promised me! He promised me that he would never leave me! He wouldn't leave me! It's not true. Daddy wouldn't leave!"

Her words become more frantic, mind a jumble of trepidation, and body containing too much stress for a toddler. A heartbreaking sight, even for the heartless. In a matter of hours, Loki, the most important person in Eira's world, vanished. Her mother passed before she could form memories, and now her father joined his lover in Valhalla.

But it stopped in a flash.

Tears turned into profound breaths. Hot air emanated from Eira's mouth, not closed, unlike her eyes, shut with exhaustion. Her fists and feet discontinued squirming, landing softly on various parts of her uncle's body. Her head rested on his silver-plated shoulder, curls disordered from the tantrum. Snot and cries ceased forming, but uncleaned from Thor's armor.

"I hate using magic on my loved ones."

Looking at the source of the voice, Thor and Sif saw Frigga standing in the doorway. Guilt coursed through her face. She used her seidr to pacify her granddaughter, an uncharacteristic move. Enemies were a perfect target for manipulation through magic, but allies, especially family, blood or not, was dissolute. Thor and Sif considered urging the All-Mother further, but her expression held the answer.

"Thor," she began once their attention focused on her. "Your father wants to speak with you. You did enough for Eira at the moment. Do not fret, my son, I will watch over her."

The god observed his niece. Her position had not changed, though the warmth from her breath had modestly iced. Eira required monitoring; her emotions would certainly depress her state. How her attitude would shift because of Loki's unexpected death was unknown, but no one would wait. Immediate treatment was needed. Thor wanted the task. Though his adopted brother committed suicide, there was a speck of iniquity in his gut. In his nonrational brain - with some canniness added during the dramatic weekend - concluded caring for Eira in his place was the correct force of action.

The All-Father vitalized a battle report, temporarily overshadowing the care for the young princess.

Thor walked to his mother, handing her the limp weight. Eira grunted when placed in Frigga's hold, though soon settled. Frigga rubbed her back while she watched her son leave. Sif stood in the middle of the room, witnessing mother and son interact. Currently, she had no duties at the moment, and her strong relationship with the princess created a protective behavior.

"All-Mother, is there anything I can do to help you care for Eira? I care deeply for her and want to make sure that she is alright, especially after today."

Frigga nodded. "Understandable. Can you get her a new garment from the drawer? Her current one is slightly dirty, not the best to sleep in."

"Got it." Sif turned and looked through the drawers, sorting the clothes to see what belonged to Eira. A turquoise dress with black embellishments caught her eye. It appeared secure and suitable for rest, as Eira would probably remain in her chambers for the remainder of the day.

"I assume this is appropriate?" Sif asked as she presented the dress.

"That will work," responded Frigga. "Grab her stuffed toy, Hati. It will help her rest peacefully."

Sif nodded and gave Frigga the dress. While the warrior searched for Hati, Frigga laid Eira on her bed and removed her clothes, which was not the easiest task, as she made quick movements whenever she felt the seams of her clothes rubbing against her skin. The new outfit fit her flawless and her lack of abrupt twitches meant she was comfortable.

"I found it," proclaimed Sif as Frigga placed her granddaughter on the pillow, pulling the blanket over her small form. "Is there anything else you need me to do?"

Putting Hati between Eira's arm and hip, she shook her head. "I can care for her on my own at the moment. You should go find Thor and then go home. You traveled through the realms today, so your body must be wary."

"I cannot deny my exhaustion," Sif laughed. "But do you mind if, in the future, I can help Eira more. This has to be difficult for her. The more people she has supporting her, the better."

Frigga smiled. "Thank you for your selflessness, Lady Sif. I shall contact you if she needs anything."

"It is no problem."

Sif left the room, shutting the door and leaving the All-Mother and princess alone. Frigga stroked her granddaughter's cheek, feeling her warm and smooth skin against her distressed thumbs. She had no idea about how Eira would be behaving after today. Surely her mood would shift, but how it would and its length were unknown.

"I'm so sorry, my little Eira."

Flæskesteg, a pork roast with a crispy rind, with a Västerbotten cheese sauce filled the bellies of the nobilities of Asgard. The inhabitants of the dining room ate in large servings and drank kiloliters of beer. Normally, Thor would lead in such gluttonous behavior, but his astray mind prevented his actions.

His mother had not left Eira's side since the early afternoon. Frigga probably desired to interact with her people but would refuse to leave her granddaughter alone. The boasting and praises tired Thor, making him want the comfort of his niece in her quiet chambers.

Thor knocked on the doors of Eira's chamber. He heard a person stand up, the sound of their footsteps becoming closer. The door opened with his mother in the frame, a warm smile on her face when she saw her eldest.

"Hello, Mother," he greeted. "You must be starving. The chefs made Flæskesteg, and there is plenty in the dining hall. I brought some for Eira. When she wakes, I'm sure she will be hungry."

"Thank you for the offer, my son," she spoke in an exhausted tone. "But I need to watch Eira. She will wake soon, surely in distress. I have to be there when she does."

"Mother," Thor firmly interrupted. "You have been by her side for hours. Please, for my sake and yours, interact with those in the dining hall. I can watch Eira for the night. I'm her uncle, she trusts me."

Frigga appeared unsure. She glanced at Eira's sleeping form and sighed.

"Alright, Thor. I'll go and eat. But beware, she will not be happy when she wakes."

Nodding and patting his shoulder, she walked past Thor to the dining hall. He looked through the ajar door, seeing Eira leaning against Hati and her pillow, drool leaking from her mouth. The door opened further with minimal noise, no stir from the sleeping princess. He walked in and shut the door behind him, setting the meal on a nearby table. An unoccupied chair stood near Eira's bed, which Thor decided to sit so he could observe his niece.

He rubbed his sore muscles and glanced at the empty space of Loki's bed. His little brother was dead, but it didn't feel real. Everyone who knew Loki felt the same. The scenario of his death was mysterious. He could understand why Loki would not want to face punishment for his actions and the disappointment of his father, but he would never leave Eira. After the death of Runa, he vowed to raise his daughter as a single father, never to leave her in the permanent care of anyone else. His desire to rule was nothing compared to the love he had for Eira. Did his daughter not cross his mind when he fell into the abyss? Did he want to leave Eira as an orphan, despite his strong fatherly instincts?

"Mmm … Daddy?"

Thor lifted his head, perceiving Eira sitting up from her bed as she rubbed her eyes, several strands of her curls in differing directions. Removing her small hands, she glanced around the room, not interested in her uncle, but something else.

"Daddy should have been back by now," she deduced after failing to find him. Sobs formed soon after, her body curling into a ball.

"Eira, please don't cry," pleaded Thor as he moved to his niece's side. "It's alright. Everything is okay. I'm right here."

"No! I don't want you. I want Daddy. Where is he? Tell me! Please."

Eira's phrases became desperate the more she spoke. Thor sighed. "I told you, he's gone. I'm so sorry."

"That's not true. He promised he would not leave me! He said he wouldn't go to Valhalla like Mommy."

"What? When did you …" Thor spoke with shock. "How do you know about Valhalla?"

"I asked Daddy about her a few months ago. He said she had to go there because she was sick and that I would never see her until I'm supposed to go. But Daddy promised he wouldn't go. He didn't lie to me, I know it."

Her cries were bordering on hysterical, which Thor wanted to prevent, but clueless on the correct method.

"Eira, I know that you miss your father. We all do, but he wouldn't want you to cry. Even if he is not physically here, he still loves you. He wants you to be happy, grow up to be a strong woman."

The mood shifted, though the atmosphere continued to be somewhat depressing. Eira was stubborn, so she would not settle easily.

"But I want him to be here!" Eira yelled, pounding her fists against her uncle's chest. "It's not fair!"

"I know this situation is unfair, but you cannot continue to sadden yourself. I brought you dinner. Although it's rather late, you need to eat. Please eat, Eira. Your father would want you to."

Eira huffed and whined, her sobs terminated, but dejection still ran through her body. "I guess I can eat, but I want to sleep afterward. I don't know why, but I'm tired."

Thor smiled, placing her on a desk before grabbing the food from the table. When he went back to Eira, he almost laughed. The proportion of desk to toddler comedically wide. Loki would surely jest about the situation, but now was not the time for jokes. He set the meal on the desk and lifted Eira, sitting down and putting her on his lap. Eira stared at the food, hesitant to eat. Thor was about to speak about her uncertainty, but she soon heated the pork with her magic, grabbing a knife and fork.

Dinner was quiet, the sounds of the cutting of food and Eira's chewing resonating through the room, but no talk. Thor watched his niece eat, his eyes alert for any problems she might have. Once her plate emptied, Eira set down her utensils and leaned her head back, her body ready for another bout of rest.

"Uncle Thor? Can you read me a story from the book Daddy always reads to me? My favorite is Sigurd and the Dragon. And if you don't mind, can I sleep in his bed? I like the smell of Daddy. It's nice."

Her sense of smell was incredible, unheard of children her age. People assumed it was a consequence of her overattachment to her father, which would certainly make accepting his death very difficult for her. But if sleeping his bed - approximately quadruple her size - would diminish her stress, then what was the harm?

"Alright then."

Not bothering to change her clothes, Thor hoisted his drowsy niece and perched in the middle of her father's bed. Eira grabbed Hati, holding him tightly while Thor looked for her favorite storybook.

Loki was a remarkable storyteller. The method in which he phrased and emphasized lines improved any tale. Thor tried his absolute best, but his attempt to replicate his brother's style was a defiant fail. Eira had complaints, but the combination of her father's soothing smell, the fluffy texture of Hati, and the words from the treasured story erased all faults. On a terrible day, several things going right made everything acceptable. Halfway through, she fell asleep, the most peaceful she felt all day.

A giant strolled into a dark room, no walls in view, shadows covering the floor. The mysterious aura was a natural part of his home. Hidden from view, he could plan his tyrannies and observe civilizations. He hated individuals, people who tried too hard to prove their skill and uniqueness, but there was a disturbance in his lovely home. Normally, he would feign indifference during their first meeting, then display anger, annoyance at their untimely disruption. To quell his irritation, he would take their life. Choke them until their eyes popped out, squeeze their head, and wait for an unhealthy amount of blood to puke from their mouths, beat them to a bloody pulp, make their faces unrecognizable. The blood and flesh on his gauntlet solaced him.

For the first time in decades, he found interest in a being who, according to his subordinates, literally fell from the sky, no injuries, and no hesitation as he stood up and stabbed the lives of the Chitauri away. The man held high regard for himself, his gold plates on a long green jacket, and horned helmet speaking volumes.

Finding the man was not difficult, as he made no effort to hide. In fact, he seemed happy when meeting the giant.

"Are you the man who rules this realm?" the newcomer asked, knife in hand, purple blood on his plates.

The giant laughed. "You could say that. Quite a courageous man, killing my soldiers and asking me questions. Are you royalty?"

The man twitched. "The righteous heir to two thrones."

"If you rule two kingdoms, then why are you here? Shouldn't you and your mawkish wardrobe be commanding armies?"

"I should be, but I was dropped into your abyss. My actions were correct, but they refused to see it that way. They took away my rights and separated me from my young daughter."

Upon the mention of his daughter, his tone sobered, shoulders sagged for a brief moment. The Titan strongly disliked sentiment, but he was a father who also adored his daughter.

"I understand how you feel. I have a daughter as well. Her name is Gamora. She is an adult now, but I will always see her as my little girl."

The man did not move but seemed to relax, the slight relatability in their situations made the situation less tense. The giant could sense great power in the man, possibly prove usual in his quest for the Stones.

"I have something to offer you, but first, tell me your name."

The raven-haired man turned and smiled, his grin wicked with anticipation.

"I am Loki of Asgard and Jotunheim. And you? Who are you, and what do you offer me?"

"They call me Thanos, the Mad Titan. For you, I offer a glorious purpose."

Eira was typically a joyous child, some slightly errant behavior and the occasional stubbornness, but she always eluded excitement. She demonstrated excitement when learning and courage while practicing magic. But for the past month, she kept to herself. She interacted with others when necessary, otherwise, she maintained an unusually quiet composure. She preferred being alone, but her family tried to comfort her often, so she was rather annoyed most of the time.

"My granddaughter, what are you doing in the garden by yourself?"

Turning her head while continuing to kneel and observe the flowers, Eira saw Frigga entering the gardens. Thor leaned against the entrance, watching for any irregularities in their conversation.

"I was looking at the flowers," Eira said in a monotone voice. "They're quite pretty."

"Indeed, they are beautiful," responded Frigga. "You have not learned any new magic recently. I can teach you some now."

"But you're not my teacher."

Thor's blue eyes widened. Frigga probably thought teaching her magic would be simple, but Loki had taught Eira since her first mission. She was a stubborn girl, most likely not allowing anyone else to teach her beside her father. The All-Mother held her tender smile, serious about her request. Perhaps she had a method: making Eira recognize that Loki could no longer teach her.

"The skill of teaching is not limited. I have some useful techniques."

"But Daddy is my teacher. You taught him, so he teaches me. Why are you not waiting for him?"

"Your magic cannot wait. You need to learn, not repeat the same tricks."

"Stop lying!" Eira yelled, standing up with tears in the corners of her eyes. Hands clenched and feet firm, she stared into her grandmother's eyes, challenging her strategy. "Everyone won't stop lying to me. No one is telling the truth about Daddy. Something happened to him, but everyone is silent. Why are people being dishonest? I hate it. I hate it so much. Why won't it stop?"

Frigga did not have the time to speak, as Eira ran out of the garden, pushing the All-Mother while she rushed to the exit. Thor grabbed his niece before she could successfully leave. She kicked his stomach, but he felt nothing.

"Eira!" he scolded. "You cannot talk to your grandmother that way!"

"I don't care! Let me go!"

Thor winced randomly, making him let go of Eira. When he looked at his waist, there was a spark of green. Eira had used her magic to attack him. He glanced up, but all he saw was Eira's foot.

Frigga touched her son's shoulder as he sighed. "This is going to be tougher than we thought. Her overattachment to Loki should have been fixed long ago."

Thor put his hand on his forehead. It had been a month, yet Eira was showing no signs of improvement.

"Patience is not my greatest skill, but I'm trying for her. I'll eat dinner with her in her chambers. I don't believe it is appropriate for her to be with people. It is best for her to learn more magic, so I will talk to her."

Eira did not know it, but she needed those around her to be patient. If people could help her behavior, then maybe she would grow. She could become herself again.

To most Asgardians, the equivalent of a month was less than the blink of an eye yet Loki felt like an eternity had passed. The longest time he was separated from his daughter was a week. Not physically seeing her, braiding her ebony curls, interacting with her.

The Other was an egotistical master. He considered himself wise and powerful, but his decrepit form and cowardice nature were laughable. Thanos was the true master. The Titan had infinite knowledge and technology, the capabilities to persuade others to his cause, and unmatchable strength. The Other bowed in his presence, displaying his true character: inadequate and subservient.

Loki gained the trust of Thanos and discovered his master plan. He wanted all six of the Infinity Stones, not for power or glory, but to erase half of the universe's population. It was ambitious and too hopeful. In his centuries of searching, he had only found one: the Mind Stone. If Thanos had not offered Loki the chance to rule the remains of Midgard by using his only stone and the Chitauri, he would have laughed in the Titan's face. Thanos's destiny was not to be a god. The search for all the stones would take eons, time Thanos did not have. Loki, an actual god, stayed silent. He would not risk to scold his master and lose the only chance he had to be with Eira again.

Loki's apparition finally had the chance to talk with Eira. A month after his "death", he teleported himself to her chambers, in the dark of the night without the chance of anyone walking up and discovering his livelihood. He would only interact with her, shielding himself from Heimdall's view and making Eira promise to stay quiet.

Her bed was empty, sheets tucked perfectly, pillow flat on the mattress as if she was never there. Loki nearly panicked, worried that his adoptive family sent her away. Behind him, there was a light snore. He turned, seeing a small lump on his bed, the form's chest moving up and down. Further investigating, he saw Eira sleeping. Her hair sprawled over the pillow, arm tucked tightly around Hati, nose placed near the hem of the blanket, making him smile, but he soon retracted.

She missed me, he thought as he kneeled to see her face better. The overattachment was never resolved. She has an amazing sense of smell, so my bed must comfort her. Has she been crying? Shit. What have I done?

"Eira," he whispered to her deep-sleeping form, casting a sound diminishing spell. "Eira, wake up."

The princess groaned in her sleep, fluttering her eyes and attempting to remain asleep. Her green eyes opened for a full second before shutting, but they went wide open after she saw her father's figure. She sat up, a smile on her face, arms open for a hug.

"Daddy! You're here!"

"Yes, Eira. I'm here. And I missed you so-"

Eira leaned to hug her father but went right through him. Loki used his telekinesis to prevent her from falling. His magic moved her back to the bed. Eira looked at him with confusion.

"I'm sorry, Eira but I cannot physically be with you at the moment. I am working to come back and take you somewhere safe. It might take a while, but just know that I love you."

"You … you're leaving again. Why are you doing this? Daddy, why?"

She cried so often lately, almost second nature. It was a painful action, she wanted it to stop. She thought if her father returned, the tears would stop falling. He rose from the dead but said goodbye again. The emotions would not end.

"Eira! Please don't cry. I will visit you whenever I can. After my work is complete, we can be together again. We will hug, play, and practice magic again. I promise you."

He sat on the bed, magically moving a blanket to wrap around his daughter. Eira rubbed her nose and clenched the blanket.

"You wouldn't want to be around me, Daddy. I've been a bad girl."

"How?" Loki asked, raising his eyebrow. "You have always a mischievous streak thanks to me, but you are generally well-behaved."

"I get mad at Uncle Thor and grandmother too much. Today I zapped him with my seidr after I yelled at grandmother. She wanted to teach me magic, but I want to wait for you. It wasn't right. Everyone is nice to me, but I think they are hiding their anger."

"Eira, none of this is your fault. I left without warning. I am sorry for making you confused. Can you do something for me? I want to listen to your uncle and grandmother. Thor can teach you battle techniques and my mother can practice magic with you, educate you with new tricks. I don't like to see you sad, no one does. I know life is hard without me, and I find it difficult to not be with you, but we have to show strength."

The air was silent. Eira looked into the apparition's eyes. "Daddy, I miss you. I'm sorry for causing trouble."

"I should apologize to you. I have been a terrible father. We will be together again, I promise with all my heart. I can visit, my time allows it. At night, you can show me what you have learned, and I can tell you tales of my work. You cannot tell a soul about our interactions, for my plans will be ruined and it may take longer for us to see each other. Can you do that?"

Eira nodded. "I can do it, Daddy! I'm happy as long as I'm with you. Umm… Thor and grandmother have been reading me bedtime stories. I like them, but you tell them better. Can you tell me a story? I'm really tired."

Loki smiled. "Or course I can. I love you too much to say no."

Eira fell asleep as Loki told a tale about a battle from long ago. He described the details of how he fought, the eventual defeat of the enemy, and the celebration afterward. Loki stared at her sleeping form and disappeared.

About once a week, father and daughter met, explaining their adventures without telling a soul.