Chapter 11: Secrets in the Snowflakes
The technology of Midgardian surpassed that of Asgard in recent decades. Developments in communication, transportation, and electronics were beyond adequate. Thor remembered his visit to Midgard sometime in the 15th century, the Scandavians, along with their lack of knowledge of medicine and housing, were amazed by their presence. Centuries later, memories of those moments only regarded through children's books until Loki decided to wreak havoc on a small New Mexico town and later Manhattan. Perhaps it explained his indifference and ignorance to modern, Earthly technology during an emergency meeting at Stark Tower.
Thor knew that the sudden downfall of SHIELD was a result of its lifelong compromised state, but was clueless to the consequences of leaked files.
"How many humans can get access to these documents?" Thor questioned with jest.
"Any human with access to the Internet," Bruce answered, almost under-shadowed by Tony's loud sigh. "Natasha uploaded these to expose and incriminate Hydra agents within SHIELD. But doing so uncovered almost all of SHIELD's history and activity. A lot of information about all of us was released."
"What types of information?" the god pondered.
"Anything that was digitally uploaded," stated Clint. "Our history, footage of our battles and the reports made about them. It will take some time for the press to discover everything from those files."
"Are any of us in danger?"
"Physically? No," said Tony. "Each of us are extremely capable of protecting ourselves from anyone angered by the files. Though some of us may get backlash for our previous actions and statements. People may lose their trust in the Avengers. Though you, Point Break, should be fine. Most stuff leaked about you involved protecting innocence and sacrificing yourself. Consider yourself lucky that you're not of Earth."
"Was there…" Thor gulped, nervous as to the answer of his preceding question. "Was there any mention of my family?"
"There were a lot of files detailing Loki's visit to Earth," answered Steve. "One detail mentioned that he has a young daughter, but it did not state Eira's name or whereabouts. So far, we haven't seen any major discussions about it. Even if that happens, no one will know where to find her. Eira is safe. Don't worry, Thor."
Thor gripped the edges of the table, careful not to break it and be a victim of Stark's complaining. He sighed before pondering further. "Was there any reference to her in my files?"
"None. She was only mentioned in a report about your brother. Not all of SHIELD's files were released, and even if they were uncovered, Eira would still be safe. Only one or two agents knew about her. She'll be fine."
"Sorry about my insistence on these issues," said Thor, his hands letting go from the table, his stance relaxed. "I still don't completely understand modern Midgardian technology."
"That's alright. Eira's in the other room. Why don't you send time with her while the rest of us discuss the leaks. You already have to worry about the other realms, so let us handle Earth."
"I shall do so. Thank you, Rogers."
Thor put his hand on Steve's shoulder. Steve responded with a grin and nod, lying well for the first time in his life.
Is it a lie if a wasn't revealing the entire truth to Thor? Steve thought as the god's hand lifted itself from his shoulder. Wait, I think that is the definition of a lie. Is this how Natasha feels?
As Thor exited the conference room, passages from Eira's written file came to mind. First was the basic physical descriptions, then a brief explanation of her known powers, provided by observations from Steve and Natasha. He hated the thought that he might have accidentally assisted corrupted SHIELD agents into forming their plans to utilize Eira's powers. When Natasha handed him the physical file, the opening sections were harmless, but he then remembered reading further. The feeling of his eyes widening as he read that some wanted samples of her blood were reimagined; they wanted to study her, perhaps without her consent.
Anything beyond human or not of Earthly origin were designated as threats by SHIELD. Steve understood their reasons, as it was natural to be wary of the unknown. But Eira was seven when she arrived on Earth for the first time. She was not her father, she had no intentions of causing danger. The extent of her powers were indeterminate and developing, but with the proper assistance, she could manage her abilities. So why did SHIELD - technically Hydra since all of the agents involved in her file were associated with the criminal organization - want to use and study her for their own gain? Eira definitely desired to help others, but through force and manipulation, Hydra could have corrupted her.
The world had already watched the sudden fall of a powerful government surveillance agency, so surely they would be exhausted by the possible rampage of Thor, caused by him being aware of the hostility toward his adolescent niece.
Steve would discuss the consequences of the leaked files and the paper reports of Eira and Bucky. He would tell Thor one day, he convinced himself.
Four days prior, Eira was excited for her first trip to New York City. She heard many stories about the populous city from her father and uncle and to see its wonders for herself. Steve invited her to Stark Tower, allowing her to explore the permitted floors while he discussed the consequences of the fall of SHIELD with the Avengers, now without a government organization to observe them. Afterward, she could converse with her uncle. Sam offered to watch her while Steve was away, but the Captain did not want to stress his friend with a demigoddess he had met days earlier.
Those feelings and intentions were forgotten the afternoon before she left.
Shortly after lunch her energy was lacking. Steve assumed it was a result of the three servings of ramen noodles she ate. Worrisome arose when she sat on the couch, her head lazily against the cushions, she commented about the high temperature of her ears. Steve stood from his chair at the kitchen table as he placed down the newspaper; facing Eira, he saw that the veins in her eyes were more pronounced and, strangely, more azure.
Fevers were a common occurrence in every species. Asgardian children developed fevers like Midgardians: higher than average body temperature, low energy, coughing. Though a child of both Aesir and Jotnar blood had unknown symptoms of illnesses. The unnatural heat from her body made her more exhausted than the usual child. The veins of her eyes were red, but sometimes sickness went beyond the glamour, and were therefore a deep blue.
A scant number of traits of Frost Giants could not be hidden with glamour. As Loko grew, his adoptive family noted his slightly pointed molars, his preference for cold temperatures, and his appetite, not needing as many calories as an Asgardian. Eira shared the sharp teeth and liking to chilly winds as her Jotunn father, though her hefty appetite was inherited from her Asgardian mother.
Eira slept in her bed in the guest room for the remainder of the afternoon. Steve packed her clothing in a suitcase and entertainment for the car in her backpack. Sam made her a cold turkey sandwich as a snack, telling her stories from his time in the army to brighten her mood. Between moments of sassy comments about the behavior of his comrades, Eira gave a light smile.
Although her body was tired, Eira had trouble falling asleep.
Loki appeared that night disheveled, worry directed toward his ill daughter. Her last bout of sickness was four and a half years ago. At two and a half, Eira's body shook with the abnormal amount of heat within. Loki held her hands as the healers inspected her, offering her comfort for her first unplanned doctor's visit. As she laid in bed, eyes fluttering, her head settled on his lap, Loki stroked her hair, telling her tales to guide her into blissful slumber. The next morning, she awoke with only light sniffles.
But that was before Loki learned of his true race and Eira's status as a half-breed. Knowing the truth and discovering that this round of sickness was worse than the previous, Loki arrived as soon as she was wished a good night by Steve. He originally noticed her eyes, the blue veins surrounding her irises more accentuated, and her breaths, heavy with heat.
Despite her weakened stamina, Eira responded to her father's presence with a smile.
She wanted to talk, describe her event-lacking day, but Loki wished for her to relax. The night was spent with Eira lazily opening and closing her eyes, grinning at Loki's tales of battle as he, like he did when she was a toddler, stroked her raven curls.
Sleep consumed her body for the night and continued during the car ride to New York. Steve drove and occasionally adjusted the mirror to observe the tranquil state of Eira. She awoke for brief moments, staring at the flat, grassy landscape, the music on the radio luring her into slumber.
Some symptoms of her illness subsided, allowing her body to be conscious during the last hour of the ride. Her jade eyes gazed in awe at the large buildings, multitude of cars, and diversity among those walking along the sidewalk.
"Has your uncle mentioned Tony Stark, Iron Man?" Eira remembered her father asking her during his story-telling sessions while he resided in his prison cell. "Thor probably focused on his intelligence, but his ego is his most noticeable trait. His hubris is taller than him. New York City is large, yet Stark somehow made the tallest tower, and to further demonstrate his vanity, his name was once plastered in the largest font possible."
Those words echoed through her mind the tallest of buildings, surrounded by simple workplaces and apartment complexes. Like Loki said, his name was almost gone from the top, though the 'a' remained.
She recognized the bitter attitude Loki had whenever he spoke about the Avengers. She highly respected him, but she was unsure if she could trust his views of the man of iron.
The car stopped, the light red. Steve leaned into his seat, glancing at his windows. "Damn your ego, Tony," Eira heard Steve speak under his breath. She giggled from her seat. Steve quickly turned to Eira with a smile; her first giggle since the sickness began.
Despite her energy returning, Eira still had difficulty concentrating. A Wrinkle in Time laid in her backpack, she knew. The green-striped bookmark between the end of the fifth chapter and the beginning of the sixth ran through her mind. Her yearning for literature battled with her exhaustion, causing her to stare at nothing as she sat on the couch in the common room.
Loki wanted to comfort and speak with his daughter during her first visit to Stark Tower but he could not risk being seen by the advanced security cameras. At a time where he was not busy organizing peace among the Nine Realms, he would analyze the cameras and Jarvis, developing his magic so the mortal surveillance systems could not notice his presence and the false realities he created as he spoke with Eira.
During her unfocused gaze, the sound of burly footsteps entered her ears. Her stance straightened, the recognition of those strides energizing her. She turned her head, looking for her uncle, who quickly entered her view.
"Eira, there you are!" Thor beamed, walking over to Eira. "How glad I am to see you!"
"Hi, Uncle Thor," greeted Eira. "Is the meeting over?"
"My lack of understanding toward Midgardian technology added difficulty in understanding these declassified documents," responded Thor as he sat next to his niece. "My fellow Avengers told me about the files involving myself and our family before allowing me to leave so I could spend quality time with you."
"The meeting was boring, wasn't it."
The god laughed. "It indeed was. Most meetings are, even if the purposes of the gathering are important. And I was more concerned about you."
"This isn't the first time I've been sick," Eira said with a frown.
"I know, Eira. That still does not erase my worry. I want you to feel healthy."
"I'm doing better today, but I don't feel that great."
"You should relax; this wave of sickness will end sooner if you do not exert yourself too much. The herbal teas should help too."
"Steve made me some this morning. It was good, but he doesn't make it as well as Daddy and Grandma."
"Both magic and tea have healing attributes, so it's natural that they have high tea-making skills. Has your… Has your father interacted with you since our last meeting."
"No," Eira lied. "Though he did give me a letter this morning. He knows I'm sick and gave me tea packets. It was very nice of him."
Thor eyed Eira, looking for any evidence of lies. He noted the swinging of her legs and her neutral expression. No evidence of lying.
He could push further, but adding distress when she was already ill was not the best action.
"Change of subject," stated Thor. "I heard that you were considering cutting your hair."
"Yes," she said with glee. "I know Asgardians like to have their hair long, but my curly hair is hard to control. Daddy could brush and braid it well, and since he's not here and no one else is like him, so it might be best that someone cuts it."
"Your hair is truly something unique. Although cutting it may contradict with our culture, if you want to do it, then I shall not stop you."
"Thank you, uncle."
Thor pulled his niece closer to him, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.
"I spoke with your grandfather before I arrived. Nothing dire has arisen, so I thought we could spend the day together."
"Really? But I'm sick, so we can't go outside."
"We can spend our time together by talking in Stark's residence. I haven't spoken to you since you left Asgard. We have some catching up to do."
"I think I can do that…"
Eira's speech slurred. Thor looked at her concerned, scanning her face for any irregularities or signs of increased illness. Her eyes were focused on the walls, every centimeter covered with a window. They were repaired from two years ago, no markings of Loki throwing Tony out of his own tower.
White flakes were falling outside the tower. The flakes were snow, Thor determined after noticing that they were thin in shape. Weather in Midgardian varied depending on the region, he remembered from his schooling years.
"What is that?" Eira asked, her head tilted to emphasize her confusion.
"It's snow," Thor answered. "Its occurrence is common on Midgard during the winter."
The disarray did not diminish from her face, making Thor realize that she had never seen snow before. It never snowed on Asgard, so it was only natural for an Asgardian to be bewildered by its appearance. Thor first witnessed it a mere four years ago. Memories of his visit to Jotunheim with Loki and their friends came. No perplexed feelings arose, as his anger for the Frost Giants invalidated it.
He turned the homeland of his brother into a battlefield. Perhaps Loki saw snow for the first time since he was abandoned a thousand years ago when he was a small, defenseless infant. Eira never had the opportunity to witness the origins of half of her blood. The Asgardian ways and prejudices melded into the minds of both father and daughter; a simple situation in Jotunheim was foreign to them.
"I've never seen it before," stated Eira as she moved off the couch, walking to the window to get a better view of the weather. "I have read about snow in books, but it wasn't like this."
"You never know what something is like until you witness it yourself," Thor said as he stood next to her. "The occurrence of snow falling is rather simple, but seeing it for the first time, it felt wondrous. I was grown, seen battles and blissful wonders, but the snow itself was magnificent."
Eira placed her hand on the window, a wide, exhilarant smile as she observed the snow slowly fall from the blue, almost grey sky.
"It's beautiful," she spoke.
Thor knelt, putting his hand on her shoulder. "Oh how glad I am to see you smile, Eira."
A giggle left her lips.
"Me too, Uncle Thor."
Having reading a hobby for over a thousand years affected how Loki remembered events. He told stories through an outside perspective that understood everyone's thoughts; his skill at analyzing facial expressions and body movements in relation to emotions. Sometimes he wondered if the same quirk would be passed down to Eira.
When he was younger, he would write eventful days in a spare journal before going to bed. By the time he turned fifty and was accepting more royal and political responsibilities, the pages emptied.
He occasionally considered writing again whenever he entered a new romance, finished a vigorous battle, or argued with Thor. Those ideas never went through. New responsibilities arrived, erasing the temptations.
Then came the impending news that he would become a father. The joyous and terrifying thoughts of fatherhood overflooded, but the water never reached his fingers. The sudden duty of single parenthood came months later, when he was only a young adult (the equivalent of nineteen in human years.) Whatever time was not spent raising Eira alone, Loki was completing his royal duties and caring for himself.
Loki never stopped himself from reflecting on prior events with a story-like tone.
Once Loki learned of his true origins, a tragic mood engulfed most of his tales.
Chamber of Fangs
(Inspired by the fan comic Pointed Teeth by Wondy)
Being the younger of the noble children created many defensive and spiteful traits within Loki. As a toddler, when Thor and the other noble children put him at the end of their jests, Loki reacted with tears. But he was taught that one day, he may obtain the throne. Tears were not appropriate for a future king, so Loki responded to the bullying with his mischievous magic.
Sif was the same age as him and Fandral a year younger, and he hoped that the jests would eventually be directed toward them. But Loki's differences to the personalities of other children prevented his wish.
And now, with a physical difference he observed days ago, he feared the day when the light gags would turn into torment.
At the tender age of six, Loki played with Thor in the outdoor sector of the palace. Both had finished their lunch and had time to spare before returning to the strict atmosphere of the learning hall.
Frigga, finished with a meeting discussing the presence of a little girl, Amora, who had demonstrated a strong magical potential. She wanted to enjoy a light conversation with her sons.
She walked through the halls, two servants behind her, searching for Thor and Loki. As she approached the playing section further, Frigga heard the light footsteps and giggles of her children.
A sudden silence filled the air. The All-Mother was concerned but continued walking.
"Loki! No!" Thor's young voice echoed through the hall. Then a sharp cry.
Frigga increased her pace, lifting her skirt so she could tend to her son's injuries as quickly as possible.
Finally reaching the scene of the crime, Frigga saw Thor, sitting on the grass, holding his arm as blood dripped down. Loki stood across a meter away, a knife with scarlet liquid at its tip. His face was tight with anger, his pants traveling through his entire body. Thor was sniffling. Holding back his tears, Frigga deduced. She would have to discuss this with Odin later.
"Thor!" the queen yelled with concern, running and then kneeling down to access his injuries. "Show me your injury. I can stop the blood."
"Alright, Mummy," spoke Thor as he winced.
Her hand hovered over the cut. A minor scrap but the blood kept dripping. With a green glow, her magic sealed the wound.
She glanced at Loki, his eyes cast down in shame of being caught. There was a story behind this.
"Take Thor to his chambers," commanded Frigga to the servants. "Call for his nurse and tell her to bring damages."
She kissed Thor's forehead before guiding him to the servants. Sighing, she approached Loki, grabbing the knife from his hand without a hint of struggle.
"I don't remember teaching you to make weapons," she commented. Loki still looked at the grass.
"Loki," she spoke softly yet sternly. "Why did you hurt your brother?" Silence from her youngest. "There's a reason for everything we do, my son. I know you did not attack Thor without reason."
"He made fun of my teeth," Loki answered with a whisper.
Well that was not the answer she expected.
"He made fun of my teeth because they're sharp," he continued. "Thor made a joke about how sharp the back of my teeth are. He said that I must be a monster for having pointy teeth."
Tears spilled down his cheeks, his hands clenching as his body shook. Frigga pulled him into a hug, rubbing his back as she considered the best approach to lying.
Frigga assumed that his origin as a Frost Giant might cause some personality differences to Aesir children. The glamour concealed the physical differences, but she recognized the chance that one or two Jotnar traits would sneak through.
The sharp molars surpassed the boundaries of the glamour, possibly exposing a secret she and Odin desperately wanted to remain hidden.
"Sharp teeth are not unusual, my son," she answered. "Like you, I had pointy teeth. Though as time progressed the back of my teeth flattened. Do not worry, Loki. You are not a monster."
"Really?" he responded with a sniffle. "You had pointy teeth? When will they go away?"
"Soon, my son. Soon," lied Frigga with ease.
Dishonesty was not the best feeling, as it often spread a sense of guilt within her chest. At this moment, the negative flow was emphasized by Loki's smile. Like always, he believed her lies.
Nights later, she and her husband carried Loki from his bed. As she stroked his raven locks, Odin's hand hovered over his mouth.
Weeks later, Loki ran up to Frigga with overwhelming glee, announcing that one tooth had flattened.
Loki remembered his day as a bonding moment with his mother. But an eon later, as he lay in the bed in his chambers provided by Thanos, the effects of the Mind Stone amplified his disdain and brought back the memory. Frigga's comforts were replayed. recalling the effortlessness in how she lied, Loki stood from his bed and punched a hole in the wall.
His magic fixed the minor cuts. The blood on the sharp edges of the wall remained.
If the Truth Was Known, Then Maybe She Would Be Here
With a childhood full of lies, it was not a surprise that Loki became skilled at lying himself once he reached adulthood. He embraced mischief and took hiding his emotions as second nature. An eon later, those traits strongly developed, yet he could not notice the lies his parents fed to him.
Perhaps, if his youth was not encumbered with half-truths, reinforced by the motherly or fatherly tones, he would have less physiological distress.
The lies were meant to be harmless: served to protect Loki from prejudice and secure his position as a child of royal Asgardian blood.
Odin and Frigga knew that one day, their youngest son might find love and start a family. They assumed it would take a little over two thousand years, and during that time they could research the development of a half-Jotunn, half-Asgardian child and how to protect the mother carrying the child.
Their predictions were off by a thousand years.
The result? That could be demonstrated by Loki slumbering in his chambers. He laid on his bed, only one side occupied; the other side once contained the presence of his lover, who sacrificed her life for the infant that slept in the cradle by the foot of Loki's bed.
Fed a mere thirty minutes ago, baby Eira slept in a tranquil state, blissfully unaware of her father's stoic panic as he laid on his bed. For the past two weeks, sleep was not a common occurrence for Loki, and although he wanted it, his thoughts prevented slumber.
The back of his head against the pillow, Loki looked up at the ceiling.
At just a little over one thousand, Loki should have been preparing to increase his political responsibilities and proving his leadership skills while maintaining the young adult mentality of being carefree. His friendships would become either more secure or deteriorate. Maybe explore a relationship or two. Find his true self.
Despite the last two years breaking that stride, Loki was happy. He started a romantic relationship with Runa, soon discovering that she was the love of his life. Then he got her pregnant months in. The initial fear of accidentally impregnating Runa was soon replaced with determination. A sudden, stubborn determination to raise the child with Runa's approval, even if his family was disappointed. After his family displaced their excitement over having a grandchild, even if it occurred earlier than expected.
The pregnancy was difficult, but Loki and Runa thought they would become a family after the birth of their daughter.
Maybe if the expecting couple knew the truth and could possibly discover a method for the safest birth, then their family would not have lost a member soon after gaining one.
"WAAAAAHHH!"
Loki sat up, his stance stiffening. Pulling himself off the bed, he questioned the reason behind Eira's cries, as it made no sense why she would be upset after her hunger needs were met less than an hour ago. Her wails were tamer than usual, so perhaps her problem was not serious. Though since she was only fifteen days old, the issue had to be solved by Loki.
"What is the matter, Eira?" he questioned as he lifted Eira into his hold, not expecting an answer other than more tears; though Loki knew that talking to her was good for her development. "You can't possibly need a change, nor could you be hungry."
He returned to his bed, relaxing his back against the headrest, his grip on Eira firm yet gentle. Rhythmic whines replaced her cries. Loki brushed her tears away with a gentle stroke of his finger, preventing them from staining her face.
"You probably woke up and were scared," stated Loki. "If only you could go to sleep by yourself. Then maybe I could get some sleep. Maybe give Daddy a break. If only you could understand."
Caring for a newborn alone while processing his grief was a difficult task. Everyday Loki wanted to burst into tears, be alone in his thoughts as memories of his time with Runa replayed in his mind.
Sometimes he did. Whenever Eira was fast asleep and he was sure that the guards outside his chambers could not hear his grief, he sat in his bathtub, either reflecting in silence, letting a few tears fall, or sobbing for a few moments.
Loki composed a calm expression when his friends attempted to comfort him. Their pitiful expressions aggravated him. Their baseless offers to help him with whatever Their consoles of "I am sorry for your loss" and "I understand it must be difficult for you" were ineffective.
Oh really, he often thought when those phrases were spoken to him. You understand the wave of feelings when your daughter is born and your lover dies minutes after? The initial excitement of becoming a family destroyed by the realization that your child will never have any memories of her mother? That every part of parenting her is now weighed on your shoulders? Yes, surely everyone has felt this way.
He could never speak it aloud to someone, as he could imagine their offended faces, even the extremely unlikely chance that Eira would be taken away from him. Risking losing his daughter was one he would never take.
"It's rather unfair, isn't it," Loki spoke to Eira. "Your mother carried you despite the obstacles and loved you before you were born. She should be here, holding you, feeding you."
He could not figure out why, but he felt some guilt for causing Runa much physical and emotional distress during her final months. A sudden, troublesome pregnancy that he induced yet he watched the consequences fall on Runa.
Eira let out a sudden sob, kicking her legs covered in the fabric of a purple silk onesie.
"I'm sorry, my little one," Loki apologized as he bounced her. "I shouldn't grieve around you. Despite the circumstances, you are a gift. Others may call you a mistake, but I would call you the miracle I never knew I needed. Oh how glad I am that you are here."
Grieving was a natural process, he acknowledged. He could have spent his days refusing to see anyone, crying alone and lashing out at those who attempted to lure him out. He easily could have chosen to remain in sentimental anguish for the rest of his life.
But there was a little girl, who slept beside him every night, that needed him. A defenseless being, unaware about every aspect of life, who required attention at every moment. His daughter, the very daughter Runa gave up her soul for, was his responsibility, the representation of his love for Runa. Ignoring Eira would be a disgrace to Runa and severely undermine her sacrifice.
"Don't worry about me," Loki whispered to his wary daughter. "You, my darling, are motivating me to live. Me and your mother knew there would be struggles raising you when we ourselves were so young, but we prepared ourselves for the ups and downs. She wouldn't want me to remain in my sorrows. As she stays in Valhalla, she is already proud of you. I'll do everything I can to expand her pride."
Eira raised her arm, opening and closing her fist. Loki stroked her fist with his finger, which his daughter grasped, lightly tugging on it as she gurgled. In the depressing darkness, Loki smiled, lighting the room and brightening the stars.
"I know everyone in the palace will do their best to bring you joy. I've seen the warmth in the eyes of my family and friends, they would do anything for you."
The princess whined, leaning her head against her father's chest in frustrated exhaustion. Loki laughed before rocking her.
"Sleep, Eira. Your body needs it. Will it make you feel better if I let you sleep with me? Maybe then you will not cry thirty minutes from now. Might help me sleep as well."
Eira let out a yawn, her limbs squirming before they relaxed. As her green eyes shut, Loki released a similar yawn and fluttered his eyes.
Easing the Pain, a Reminder of Myself
The sleeping schedule of an infant is uneven. Their mood and forever-changing adjustments to the world around them altered how they slept. Since their parents or guardians were the ones responsible for soothing and raising, their sleep was also unbalanced.
When Runa discovered she was pregnant, she and Loki had six months to prepare for the struggles of sleep deprivation. Loki was not prepared for performing this task alone.
In her first two months, Eira awoke every three hours or so, sometimes less if she randomly woke up, frustrated about her inability to fall back asleep without assistance. Once she recognized the scent and appearance of Loki, she cried more for him. Though the over-attachment increased the periods in which she rested.
And then her teeth began to grow in. Never mind, it was a tooth. Her teeth grew one tooth at a time.
As a tooth surged its way through Eira's gums, the princess was constantly feeling pain. Typically during the day, Loki rarely woke up to screams and instead cuddled his daughter and gave her soft toys to soothe the pain.
But her tooth decided to cause her anguish today.
"Shhhhhh. Eira, I know it hurts. Daddy is doing everything he can."
Six-month-old had her stomach against Loki's chest. He gave light pats to her back as he searched through her bin of toys, not allowing her screaming to hinder his retrieval. He heard the echoing, high-pitched ring growing as her wails continued right near his ear. If he wasn't a parent, then he would have given the distressed being to someone else.
Loki sighed when he grabbed a tiny silicone ring, perfect to relieve some of her pain. As he walked to the rocking chair in the corner of his chambers, he glanced at his distressed daughter, her tears now starting to stain her bayadere - composed of yellow and marigold stripes - onesie.
"Alright, Eira," he said as he sat down, placing Eira on his lap. "Here you go."
Handing her the ring, he held it near her mouth. Eira first laid a hand on his before the other grasped the ring, soon putting it in her mouth. Loki attempted to remove his hand but then returned it once he saw Eira kick her legs in displeasure.
"I'm not going anywhere, Eira," he jested as his daughter leaned her head against his chest, tears landing on his nightwear. "I will stay with you until the soreness stops and you fall asleep. I promise."
Eira looked up at him as if making sure he was keeping his promise. Her unconditional love warmed Loki's heart. She was his flesh and blood and both loved one another, which made seeing her in such pain distressingly harrowing. His little girl was perfect and deserved the best, not such physical anguish.
Single fatherhood had softened him, and he was content with that.
Stroking her onyx curls, he wondered if her future teeth would grow like his. He remembered his sharp molars, closely resembling fangs, and the embarrassment he felt.
What if Eira felt the same way when she became older? What if other children noticed and made jokes about physical features?
No, Loki would not allow that. He would not witness his daughter feel unwelcomed like he did during his youth. As she grew, Loki would make sure she was respected by everyone. Despite being the illegitimate daughter of young parents, she was a perfect princess, deserving of all the love and honor her subjects could give her.
The tears stopped falling, though Loki could tell that Eira was still in distress. He smiled as he tickled her foot, causing his daughter to laugh, the ring still in her mouth. Loki laughed with her.
"You are perfect, my little one. I will give you the best."
Author's Note
While I took a two-week break from writing, I thought of multiple mini stories about Loki and Eira. Most shared themes, so I thought I would write the ones about secrets in this chapter, since it is a central theme throughout. If this is not appealing or enjoyable to my readers, then please let me know.
Also, I must credit the inspiration for one of the short stories. Here is a link to the fantastic comic Pointed Teeth ( post/173409336830/i-posted-it-on-pixiv-for-years-ago-but-someone)