There are still latkes on the table when there comes a knock on the door. Wanda answers it and they hear her laughing loudly from the dining table. A few moments later, Wanda enters with her arm around her brother's shoulders, Natasha following behind.

"I invited Nat to spend some time with us today. Look who she brought!"

"Good morning, Pietro! And welcome, Natasha, to our Christmas Day! Please, sit. We have latkes."

"Mmmm, they smell amazing."

Loki stabs another one from the pile and plops it on his plate, "They taste it as well. I have tried them with sour cream, applesauce, and ketchup."

"Ketchup- the American response to all things potato," Natasha jests.

"Indeed. And quite tasty. But I prefer the sour cream."

He stands and pulls out a chair for her, "Please, join us."

Pietro settles beside his sister and Natasha accepts his invitation, "You guys really do just consider everybody you invite to your table family, don't you?"

"I am learning, but yes, Wanda and Magda do. I am continually amazed by the love in this house."

He passes her the latkes and she chooses one, drowning it in applesauce, "Me too. I've only been here a few times and you guys alway act like I'm supposed to be here. Even you."

"I have had good teachers."

"I'm still not sure I trust you."

"That is understandable. I haven't exactly proven myself trustworthy to you. But my life is so very different now than it was a few short years ago."

"Yeah, I get that. But I'm wary. I was raised to be. And to trust no one. But like you, I'm learning."

Pietro calls for Magda to pass him the sour cream and hot sauce, "I challenge you all to try this!"

Loki grins, "Oh, are we challenging one another to adventurous latke toppings? There is a jar of jalapeno mustard in Magda's refrigerator."

"Get it! I will try it."

Wanda set the ground rules, "A few rules, boys- nothing spoiled, and it must be food."

"Dear Sister, do you wish to spoil my fun?"

"No, but I know you far too well."

He laughs, "That you do! What else do we have?"

Magda returns with a jar of something red, "Curry paste. I dare you to slather your latke in red curry paste."

Natasha raises her fork, "Do you have Thai seasoning?"

"I don't think it is possible to eat that," Loki replies.

"Mix it with the sour cream. Or with the applesauce, that might be good."

"Magda?"

"It's in the spice rack."

Wanda brings it back with her along with the garam masala she has retrieved, "OK, so everybody make sure you have a glass of milk because you're going to need it to stop the burning from most of these."

Loki shakes his head at Natasha, "Can you actually eat that?"

"In moderation."

"What have I managed to get myself into?"

"Payback for that whole releasing the Hulk on a helicarrier thing." She grins, "That is, if you think you can handle it."

"You have to try it as well."

"Deal."

They start with the garam masala, then the mustard and the hot sauce. The curry paste is hot enough that Wanda bows out of the contest. Then they try the Thai seasoning.

"How much, Nat?" Wanda asks.

She takes a small amount on the tip of her applesauce spoon, "This. And you have to sprinkle it over whatever topping you have on the latke. And eat the whole thing."

Magda makes it two bites before she downs an entire glass of milk in a few seconds and, laughing, declares she can go no further. Pietro makes it halfway through his before he cannot continue. Loki and Natasha glance between their plates, neither willing to back down. Loki wonders if his lips will ever be the same. His eyes start to water. He takes a bite that has a little more of the spice on it than the others and he chokes, following it with milk. Natasha takes another bite.

"So...do you give up?"

"Yes. Oh my, yes. How do you do this?"

"Sour cream, very careful and even sprinkling, and years of practice."

"Why would you ever practice such a thing?"

"When you're a spy, they try to get you to talk in the craziest of ways."

"They fed you this?" Loki is shocked.

"Fancy dinners with competing spies can get interesting."

"I would say interesting might be an understatement."

"I also once held a guy's face over a vat of the stuff."

"Remind me never to get on your bad side. Again."

"Especially since you just showed me exactly where your tolerance for the stuff is."

"You are good."

"Damn straight, I am."

After they clear the table, Magda brings out games. Natasha asks for Cards Against Humanity. Pietro does not know how to play, nor does Loki, but Magda is more than up for teaching them.

Loki stares at the card in the middle of the table, "There is nothing in my hand that will not make this absolutely terrible."

Natasha tosses her cards down, "That's the point. Make it as bad as you like. My goal's to see you blush every hand."

"And what if I do not?"

"Then I have to try harder."

"Will it be possible for me to make you blush?"

"If you do, you'll be the first."

He selects two cards, "I accept your challenge."

Wanda counts the cards on the table, "Who hasn't put theirs in?"

"Do not rush me, dear Sister, there are things at stake."

"What, exactly, is so important that you delay so long?"

"I want to see Natasha turn pink."

"In your dreams, Pietro."

"Ah, so you wish to appear in my dreams? I could arrange a daydream or so."

"Don't you dare."

"Hmmm, maybe I will later today."

"You can't handle your Thai spice, either, mister, so I'd be careful. No undressing me with your eyes, you cheeky bastard."

He clasps a hand over his heart, "Oh, you stab me so!"

"Just play your damn cards and stop flirting!" Wanda says, shoving him.

He tosses two on the table, "You musn't rush these things, Wanda!"

"I can rush whatever I want, I'm the one who gets to choose this hand." She turns over the first pair of cards in front of her and snorts, "Oh god, these are good." She turns over the other pair, her laughter increasing with each one. She tries to read them out loud and can't, so Magda calls each pair out. Loki manages not to blush, as does Natasha, but it only takes three hands for Magda to laugh so hard she cries and the hand after that, Loki turns beet red. When they break for lunch, no one has managed to make Natasha blush. They make sandwiches and return to the game. Magda brings out the wine. When they set their cards aside to make Christmas cookies, they are all a little tipsy, laughing freely. Some of the cookies are shaped fine, others look a little odd, and they frost every one of them before their decorating descends into a frosting fight. By the time Pietro and Natasha leave, Loki no longer has reservations about how he will fit in the same family as Wanda's brother. It is incredibly easy to play with him, to laugh with him, and to imagine mischief with him. And Natasha simply slipped into the family and became one of them, her sense of daring adding to the humour of the evening.

They sit in front of the tree on the floor and unwrap the gifts. Loki asks why they did not give Pietro his while he was here.

"Because while I can bring him things, he is not supposed to bring things back with him. So I will take them with me when I visit tomorrow."

"Ah, yes, you are not attending the Stark fundraiser for the refugee centre."

"He destroyed Sokovia, I feel no need to celebrate that he took the step to make it right."

"Wanda, darling, I understand. And so does Loki. But we hope you will forgive that we are going to go."

"I do not have a problem with it. I have chosen to visit Pietro instead."

Magda turns to Loki, "You will be my date, no?"

"Oh, yes. Of course!"

"See? I will be well watched over. You needn't worry someone trying to steal your wife from you."

Wanda laughs as Loki pats her arm, "I will be sure to fight the boys and girls back with whatever necessary. Perhaps I could use a chair."

She shoves him playfully, "You'd best keep them from carrying her off!"

"On my life, my lady, I will defend your beloved."

"I think I will be safe. Mr Stark is the most likely to attempt to flirt and after what I told him when we were looking for you, I do not think he would dare, no matter how dramatic my gown. I have proven myself fierce."

"He did mention you were quite blunt."

"That is one way to put it."

"And that you said you had no reason to trust him."

"Yes. I do remember that. It was a good response."

"Play nice at the fundraiser, dear Magda."

"I will charm and delight as I always have. Now. Presents. You have some here. And so does Loki. And so do I. So let us see what is in them!"

She distributes the gifts and they open them one by one. Loki is unused to this sort of gift giving. He has received things from his parents, yes, and tokens from interested women, but there are no holidays set aside for exchanging gifts in Asgard and they are rarely given between friends or without strings attached. He brought books for Magda and Wanda, both in Sokovian, as well as hair-kerchiefs woven in Sokovia that he stumbled on in a thrift store near the refugee centre.

When Magda sees the deep blue and gold of her kerchief, she pauses, "I know this fabric." She continues to unwrap it and holds it up to the light, "My god, Loki, where did you find such a thing?"

"A second hand shop. Is there something wrong?" He wonders if he has ignored some piece of etiquette unbeknownst to him.

"No, on the contrary. Something is very right that you could not have known."

"Oh?"

"This was my great grandmother's colour. She covered her hair with a kerchief so similar to this one and she wore a skirt that matched. The colour of a starry night nestled between the mountains." She folds it into a triangle and drapes it over her hair, tying the ends at the base of her skull. She shifts it back and pulls two of the bobby pins from her bangs and uses them to hold the kerchief in place, "A perfect piece of home."

Wanda opens hers, "It is red, like my wisps." She ties hers over her hair as well, "I need this. The Avengers seem to often act as though we are all from the same nation, especially when Thor is not with us. But I am not one of them. Nor is Natasha. And we do not all have the same stories. I will wear this often. Thank you, Loki." She hugs him.

"Open your others. Ralph helped me find them."

They open the books and neither says anything as they open the covers, gently stroking the lettering pressed into the thin leather and book board, "Loki...these are gorgeous. Do you know the titles?" Wanda asks.

"No. Ralph could only somewhat translate. He said yours was possibly about magical people- perhaps witch women? And Magda's is some sort of herbal."

"That is somewhat correct. Wanda's is about Sokovian Grandmothers- but the translation is inaccurate, as we have more to our words than this. Our grandmothers are said to obtain some sort of magic and wisdom as they age. A witch is not the right word. Perhaps it is, but in an older sense- a folk magic practitioner. Does such a thing make sense?"

"Yes. There are old women in Asgard who are considered the village mothers in the outer lands. They are healers, but also practitioners of other magic. They can touch Yggdrasil as I can...or could. And as my mother could."

Magda touches his arm, "You so rarely speak of her."

"I know. Ralph released me to once again claim her as my mother. And I am still getting used to this."

"Take your time. How did he convince you to call her 'mother' again?"

"He reminded me that you build family as it means something to you and I could do the same. She is dead and I am no longer in Asgard and constrained by the rules of that land. I can hold Odin at a distance while holding Frigga close."

"He is wise in this."

"Yes, he is." He takes a deep breath and slowly releases it, "So what is your book about?"

"Plants, yes. But it is no simple horticulture guide. It is a book of the old remedies. Things we used to heal ourselves and our communities long before modern medicine breached the mountains. Powerful medicine once practiced by the Grandmothers."

"So their magic was...or is? -in their use of plants."

"Yes. But more than that, if the stories are to be believed."

"Stories?"

"Yes. But I will not tell them until you open your gifts."

There are three for him under the tree. One is a larger box and seems dense. Another is clearly a book. And the third is small and light. He starts with the book. It is dark green and appears to be handmade.

"Read the title."

"'The Witchcraft and Folk Magic of Sokovia'. Did someone make this book?"

"Yes. One of our fellow refugees. She wrote each of the few copies out by hand. It is how she preserves the lore of our dear homeland and how she copes with the horrific things she has experienced. She does not speak. She writes. And she binds the books herself."

"This is beautiful. And precious."

"Yes, it is. It is priceless. Which is why she gave it to me when I asked if we might give you one of her books."

"She gave it to you...for me?"

"Yes. I told her you thought you had once felt a connection to the Great Ash and you were seeking it again. While we name it something different, our culture is similar to yours in this. She wants others to believe in the truth of this as she does. And she hoped something in this book might help you find what you were missing."

"Thank you..." He stares at the book, almost afraid to open it. There are so many things he wonders about the nature of Sokovian Grandmothers. He wishes he could ask someone in Asgard if Midgardians could really reach out and touch Yggdrasil. If it is possible that he might regain this as he ages. But he knows he has no one to ask. This is not a question he thinks Thor would understand well enough to ask, and he knows one question would lead to a cascade of others.

"You do not have to read it now. Wait until you are ready."

He sets it aside and turns to the big box, "Shall I open another?"

"Of course," Wanda encourages, "This is why we have given them to you, yes?"

He tears through the paper and carefully opens the flaps on the box. He draws out the first garment. A long goldenrod tunic embroidered with swirls in a darker yellow, a curling sunburst around the neckline, the short split on the front of the tunic a long sunbeam. The second is sage, vines embroidered in emerald. Below it, a coral one with deep red floral embroidery. And last, a long denim blue dress or robe with elaborate Norse embroidery from the nape of the neck all the way down to the hem of the short train. The wide sleeves are bordered with the same stitching.

"These are stunning..."

"Erie made them for you. They should all drape nicely no matter if you are Lady or Lord. She sends her love."

"You have both gone above and beyond for me..."

"And you for us. But that is what family does, no?"

"Yes. I suppose it does."

"You have seen this. Thor has always sought you."

"So did Mother, just in a different way."

"And we are always here."

"You are both so much more than merely here."

Wanda hands him the small box, "You have one more."

"Your kindness and generosity still astounds me."

"Just open it."

He unwraps it to find a little cardboard box. He lifts the lid and something glitters. Puzzled, he pulls it out. A necklace. A disc, a coin, on a fine bronze chain that matches the aged metal. It is finely cut in the shape of an ash.

"Yggdrasil."

"Yes. On a very old Sokovian coin. You are one of us."

"Is there a story of its acquisition as there was for the others?"

"I made it. Mr Stark taught me to use his very fine little laser. It is one of the coins we no longer use in Sokovia. One I found in my grandmother's bank box."

He unclips the hasp and hangs it around his neck, "I don't know what to say. I am deeply moved, dear Sisters, by all of this. Your gifts are remarkable. I do not think I will ever forget my first Christmas."

Wanda hugs him first, but Magda joins her only seconds later, "Your gifts are deeply touching, too, my dearest Loki. Wanda and I will also always hold this day close to our hearts. It is a day of wonderful firsts."