Pass 4 - Wonderchild90
The oven timer rang through the house just as Loki had begun to doze off in his chair, sending him rushing back into the kitchen to pull out the cake he had been baking. “Forty five minutes already?” He muttered to himself as the golden brown confection was pulled from the oven.
It was her favorite thing he made - a raspberry swirl coffee cake with a brown sugar crumb topping - and it was what he always made fresh to welcome her home after a long trip. The secret ingredient, a bit of grated orange zest, gave the whole thing a bright, citrusy pop that was admittedly to die for.
Easing his oven mitt out from under the pan, he admired the cake as it sat steaming on the counter. As his thoughts began to wander to his beloved wife, a black paw loomed in his peripheral vision.
“Ari!” he slid his oven mitt off. “How many times do I have to tell you not to sit on the counters?” He sighed, a smirk growing on his face despite himself. “And how many times do I have to tell you you can’t run around as a housecat all day? You’ll wear yourself out.”
There was a ripple of green light, and as the cat hopped off the counter, a child now stood in its place. Loki couldn’t find it within himself to be anything but proud. During the majority of Sylvie’s pregnancy, there was the faintest magical aura coming from their growing child. Brushing it off as a trace effect of both of their magic, it wasn’t until their daughter levitated her teddy bear for the first time that they realized they had to raise a magical being from infancy.
To say it had been an adventure would be the understatement of his life. All too often he dreamed of his beloved wife coming to him awash with tears because their daughter had disappeared before her very eyes. Tearing the house apart looking for the baby had aged him a few years. She reappeared in her crib just minutes later, giggling and babbling like nothing had happened.
“Aria, for the love of-... Please don’t scare us like that anymore.” Loki lifted the child out of her crib, holding her tight to his chest. “Your poor mother won’t sleep tonight, you know.”
He sighed at the memory, remembering the chaos that followed. He shouldn’t have been surprised that the daughter of the God of Mischief was just as mischievous as he had been. Somehow his mother’s tired sighs made just a bit more sense. For all her mischief and mayhem though, there was a tenacity and a spice in their child that could only have come from her mother.
Sylvie was, for all intents and purposes, the perfect mother. Despite her hesitation and anxiety, she took to raising a child like a fish to water. Full of the hardened wisdom of her years on the run, mixed with an inborn empathy and desire to nurture, their daughter never wanted for a hug or a sparring lesson.
“...Daddy?”
When they first discovered she was pregnant, neither of them knew quite how to react. It wasn’t planned in any way, but it was a happy surprise. The anxiety of raising a child almost overtook the joy of expecting one, but somehow, together, they figured it out.
“Daddy!” A voice, and a small hand waving in front of his face yanked him from his thoughts.
“Yes! What is it, love?”
“Won’t the cake be cold by the time Mum gets home?”
“You know she likes it that way. It’ll be just right. She’ll be home in a few hours.” He knew all too well Sylvie’s preference for lukewarm to cold foods. Living a life where a hot meal was a luxury not often presented to her made it so. She had only recently discovered her penchant for piping hot french fries. His heart clenched, the love for his wife threatening to overflow.
“Daddy… You’re doing it again.”
“What? No I’m not.”
“I can see it. You’re going to talk about how much you love Mum, aren’t you?”
“Well, can you blame me?”
For a seven year old - or at least the half Asgardian half Jotun equivalent - she was sharp as a whip. Loki made sure to impart all his book learning and etiquette alongside her mother’s street smarts. The result was a remarkably easy child who was just as good at getting herself out of trouble as she was at getting herself into it.
“Your Mum and I have been through a lot together. It’s been a lo-”
“I know, I know, enchanting Goliath and winning a multiversal war and all that. Sometimes I think you’re just making it all up so I’ll eat my broccoli.”
“It’s-... Alioth was the name of-...” Putting his hands on his hips, looking down at the impish smirk he would destroy any number of universes to protect. “Who told you about the war?”
“Mum did.” Of all the topics they had shared with their daughter, the war part was one he had tried desperately to omit. Her innocence was the most precious thing to him, and protecting it was of the utmost importance.
“Of course she did. Mum doesn’t sugarcoat anything for you, does she?”
“She says it’s all stuff I should know to be street smart. Whatever that means.”
“Oh, Sylvie.” Loki muttered as he shook his head. “Anyway, we’ve got some time. What shall we do until your Mum gets home?”
**********
Sylvie bounced her leg nervously as she waited at the coffee shop. Of all the people with various skin tones that passed her by, she was only searching for one. When she finally arrived, sitting down across the table, Sylvie was equal parts relieved to see her friend looking placid, and terrified to hear what she had to say.
“How was the flight?” Verity asked, setting her bag down.
“Cramped. I really need to start springing for first class.”
After coffee was delivered, Sylvie fussed with her pastry before looking back up. “So? What news?”
“You always ask the same thing. I dunno what to tell you. It’s been quiet since y’all took Doom down out there in the void. Kang variants have been even quieter.”
It was a relief, but it wasn’t. What weren’t they seeing? Who was lurking in the shadows waiting to steal the life she cherished?
“Is it really quiet? Or do you just not want me to worry?”
“It has been that quiet, but I don't want you to worry either. You're a mom now. That comes with enough worry.”
“That's just it. I worry for my daughter. She doesn't need to experience the shit I went through.”
“She never will. We don't prune anyone or take them prisoner unless they're an actual danger. Not on my ship.” Verity had taken over the TVA and, dare Sylvie say it, had worked around the clock changing things for the better. It would never be perfect in Sylvie’s mind, but having a friend on the inside made it a bit more bearable. “You know,” Verity spoke again after a sip of her coffee, “every time we meet up for this yearly check in I start hoping it'll be the year that you just wanna get coffee and go shopping.”
“It's just how I am. I don't know that I'll ever be able to let go.”
“Well, I'll keep hoping. For your sake as well as that fool of a husband you have. I don't think I've ever seen a man down worse for his wife.” Verity smiled, leaning in. “Now lemme see that baby. She's probably grown like a weed since I saw her last.”
**********
Aria had requested a rousing game of make believe, which was considerably easier when your father was a master of illusions. Before long, there were dragons in the kitchen, roaring and flying through the living room while his daughter squealed with glee trying to fight them from atop her sofa castle.
“Daddy make this one breathe fire!” She yelled, waving her wooden sword at the beast. With a simple flick of his wrist, an illusory flame erupted from the creature’s mouth. Aria screamed, raising her shield to deflect the oncoming torrent of fire. “Hah! Not today!” She cried triumphantly, hopping off her castle in order to strike the dragon’s heart.
“What the hell’ve you two been up to?” A voice spoke from behind Loki, startling him and causing him to lose his focus and break the illusions. The dragons faded just before Aria could land the final blow, and she looked confused for a moment before turning to see her mother home from her trip.
“Mummy!” She cried, rushing over to her mother. Sylvie caught the child in her arms, hugging her tight.
“Hi. I missed you.” She cooed, placing gentle kisses on a smiling face. “Have you been keeping your daddy out of trouble?” She cast a playful look toward Loki, and he felt his knees grow weak.
The world was complete again now that his beloved was home from her travels. Though he knew the nature of why she felt the need to leave, it didn’t stop him from hoping that she would find some time to enjoy herself along the way.
Later, when a sleepy child was carried to bed, snuggled, and read just one more bedtime story, Loki and Sylvie retired to their own bedroom. Grateful for the privacy, Loki moved behind Sylvie as she preened herself in the mirror.
“I’m glad you’re home.” his voice was low as he slid his hands over her hips. “How was B-15?”
“Same as always. She’s never got any news for me. No new Kang variants, no new Doom variants, nothing.”
“Maybe that’s a sign that you can finally stop worrying.” Kisses trailed along her neck, and he heard her sigh, tilting her head to give him access.
“The moment I settle, that’s the exact moment something will go to shit. I can’t lose what we have.”
“And you won’t. Not while I’m alive, anyway. Whatever it takes, I’ll make sure you and our daughter, and any future children are safe.”
Sliding his hands up her shirt, the goosebumps rising along her skin only turned him on further. “Already planning for another little one, are you?”
“I’m not in a rush, but I wouldn’t be opposed.” She made no move to stop him from lifting her shirt over her head, tossing it to the floor as she spun around in his embrace.
“Best get started then.” She grinned, her own hand sliding along his chest. “Our daughter isn’t patient for anything. Why would she start with a sibling?”