Of knives and their unsuitability as birthday presents
14th December 2002
“Can you say dada?”
Ava garbled unintelligibly.
“Come on hon, I know you can do this. Dada.”
Ava turned away from the man sitting next to her and picked up the stuffed snake that lay discarded to the side, clutching him to her chest.
Michael frowned at his daughter and sighed. As he did so, a hand came to rest on his shoulder.
“Mikey, you’ve got to stop stressing this,” consoled Elena, “She’ll talk on her own timetable, not yours.”
“I know, I know. I just…”
“You want to be the one to teach her. I get it. And she will. She’s such a bright spark, she just needs to take her time. You’ll have your moment.”
Michael turned to smile at his wife, folding her into his arms. Elena was the master of comforting words.
The couple sat together, entwined in each other's arms watching their daughter play with her toy. Loki had given it to her for her last birthday, and she’d been enamoured ever since, dragging him everywhere and refusing to part with him. And as much as Michael didn’t like it, Basilisk, or Basil for short, was now a permanent member of the family. Like a few others Michael could name.
Honestly, Michael loved his wife to bits, but she really did have an unfortunate habit of bringing home strays. First the idiotic archer, then the creepy redhead, and now a bloody teenager who claimed to be a God. And had this obsession with his daughter. Which everyone was completely fine with. Apparently.
It was Elena’s one fault that she was so kind. Which, for someone in her profession, didn’t seem safe. Michael couldn’t help but think sourly about the fight they’d had when she’d first told him what to do. Elena was a pacifist, weirdly enough, and would always prefer a compromise to a fight. But her job had been the one thing she wouldn’t compromise on. Even when they learnt she was pregnant, Elena refused to quit and take up a respectable position, or even start as a stay-at-home wife, which they could manage easily on Michael’s salary.
And then the boy had come along, and suddenly there were a hundred other things Elena wouldn’t compromise on.
Michael was snapped out of his dark thoughts by a flash of green and a soft thump, like a pair of bare feet had stepped out into their apartment. He scowled, recognising the dramatics Loki used to accompany his presence. Was it so hard to knock?
Elena rose, greeting the teen with a hug and a fond smile. The boy returned it gracefully, before bending to scoop up Ava, who cooed in delight at the intruder.
A cold emotion shot through Michael’s heart, bitter and strange. He stood up, pointedly not acknowledging their house guest, who stood looking positively at home with the softly glowing lights, the woman at his side and the little girl in his arms.
Hadn’t he ever heard of shampoo? Thought Michael bitterly, watching the pair laugh as they began to catch up on the weeks apart. Pair of bloody fishwives they were.
Suddenly, they were all interrupted by a single word spoken.
“Loki!”
Everyone stared at Ava.
“Did she…”
Loki began to laugh delightedly.
“What was that lille vennen?” ((Norwegian for little darling because I’ve decided that Asgardians speak Norwegian. So sue me.))
“Loki!” she giggled, delighted with her own brilliance.
Elena began to laugh as well, both of them cooing over the girl, in a bubble of their own. Elena was already pulling out her phone and ringing someone. A familiar voice came out the speaker.
“Lena? What’s up?”
“Natty, you’re not going to believe it…
Michael turned away from the pair, stalking coldly towards the kitchen. He recognised now what he’d felt earlier. The sour seeds that had been planted in him from the first time Elena had brought a bleeding agent through their door, and set her on the sofa, hair as red as the blood that had soaked it.
The beast within him reared its head in glee at being recognised.
Jealousy had made her bitter entrance. Show time.
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17th June, 2005.
“Happy birthday Cooper!” cheered the assembled guests, all gathered in the farmhouse’s kitchen. The three year old cheered as well before blowing his candles out with a great puff.
Laura, with her baby bump just starting to show, made her way to the kitchen, where she would dish out slices of cake, to be carefully inspected by Cooper to find the biggest, which he would insist was Ava’s. She in turn would try to give it back to him, which would result in half the afternoon being spent swapping cake, before Clint finally swooped in and ate the whole thing. Out of parental responsibility of course.
Once they’d been dismissed, the children raced back outside once more, rolling in the grass, climbing the trees that dotted the farmscape. The air was bright with laughter, bubbles, and sugar-fueled adrenaline.
Sitting on the roof, Loki and Nat had the full view of the world, from the children below to the horizon stretching into infinity. Both had escaped shortly before Laura and Elena had distributed party hats, which was a rule enforced with the power only a mother could hold.
Loki smiled as his goddaughter raced into the yard, her washed out plait followed by a head of dark curls. It had been good for the pair, he thought, both Ava and Elena alike, to get out of the city. After the brutal divorce only 5 months ago, both were still on edge. Smiles were brittle, laughs hollow, and eyes had been empty for far too long. He was glad they were starting to heal, to recover.
For his part, Loki couldn’t help but feel some guilt for the way things had turned out. He should have seen it. The way Michael’s eyes drew dark whenever he approached. The way his actions had been forced, fake. He should’ve seen the jealousy brewing inside the man.
In truth, it had been a shock to realise that Michael was indeed envious of him. It hadn’t been an emotion Loki was familiar with, coming his direction at least. In Asgard, he’d always been second best. At everything. A life overshadowed by a golden brother was no life at all. And even in the serving wings, where he’d found his feet, everyone had been equal. Loki found peace in the equality that permeated the lower levels. No one had a reason to be jealous there, not where anything one had would be shared by all.
So Michael’s behaviour, his darkness, his bitterness, and later his violence, had been a shock to everyone's system. Loki couldn’t help but thank the Norns that Elena was who she was. The first time Michael had raised a fist to her, she’d broken it, packed a bag, grabbed Ava and left.
What had been darkest, though, wasn’t that Michael had done it in the first place, deliberately hurt his beloved wife, but that he’d still claimed to love her. Said that he’d been doing it for her own good. That Loki and Nat and SHIELD as a whole had corrupted her, and he was trying to save his wife.
An excuse used all too often by men like him. Men who built a perfect mould, and if someone didn’t fit into it, broke them further until they did. What he hadn’t expected, however, was that Elena wouldn’t break.
Michael did, though. A few weeks after the divorce had been finalised, and Elena had gained full custody of Ava with a little help from Fury, Nat and Loki had paid Michael a nighttime visit. Nothing too serious, courtesy of Elena and her pacifist ways, but enough that Michael wouldn’t be hitting anyone soon.
“Penny for them?” asked Nat, lounging beside him on the slope.
“Ava.” he returned, as was often the case. Even from up here he could hear her windchime voice, explaining the rules to a game they were about to play. She was definitely the more bossy of the pair, when it came to her and Coop, but Loki found it endearing. Although he might be slightly biased.
Nat sighed softly, looking down on the scene. She had confided in Loki about her inability to have children, and despite her self-proclaimed disdain for them, he knew she couldn't help but feel wistful.
Asgardians were much the same when it came to children. The fertility rate among the Aesir was extremely low, and coupled with the extremely high rate of stillbirths and miscarriages, meant a couple may only have one child in their lifetime, which could span 5000 years on average. For a strong magic user, such as his father, that number could stretch to 4 times that. Odin was already over 18,000 years old, and showed no signs of slowing down.
Children were a gift, a Norn-given blessing to their race, and were so revered as the saviours of their people. Loki himself had been born the very day victory had been secured, Frigga’s pregnancy kept hidden throughout its duration, for fear of a target being placed upon her head, and the second Prince had only been revealed to the public when Odin had returned victorious.
Nat sighed once more and stretched, clicking her back and swinging her legs slightly.
“Shall we?” she asked, suddenly upright, as dextrous as any feline.
Loki followed suit, turning a careless cartwheel along the ridge.
Nat chuckled. “Show off.”
Loki winked, “As ever, fair maiden.”
The pair darted once more through the window, linking arms on the way down the stairs, the children running up to meet them. Nat swung Cooper into her arms and Loki grabbed Ava, tossing her in the air while she squealed gleefully, and they made their way back into the sunlight.
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12th August 2006
“Elena - “
“Loki. We’ve spoken about this. She has to go to school. It's a legal requirement.”
“Hire her a tutor. Many children are homeschooled. I’ve read about it.”
“Loki. No. She's going to school, to be with people her own age. She can’t spend all her time with adults.”
Loki scowled at Elena, who was standing with her arms crossed.
She softened, and patted his arm.
“I know,” she said, “you’re worried about her. But she’ll be fine. She has her necklace, and what with you, Natty and Clint, she has enough magic, fighting skills and sharp comebacks to last her the next century.”
Loki’s scowl remained.
Elena ignored him and continued.
“I’ve put you down as an emergency contact, which means you’ll be able to pick her up from school when you’re around, and what with your weird bond-link thing, you’ll know she's safe. You have to let go sometime, Lo, but you won’t lose her. Not from this.”
Loki regarded her a moment longer, then sighed.
“Fine. She can go.”
Elena arched her eyebrow, “I wasn’t asking permission.”
This got a smile, “And nor would I expect you to.”
“Since that’s sorted, I’ve got one other job for you Mischief.”
“What’s that then?”
“Convince Ava that she can’t use her magic in school.”
“Oh dear.”
“Yeah.”
“... Majority vote that we let Clint do it?”
“Good idea.”
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12th September 2008
Loki raised his finger to his lips, and winked at Ava, who zipped hers back at him.
The 7 year old carefully slid the daggers into the sheaths he’d gotten her and slid them into the weapons belt currently wrapped around her waist under her clothes.
She’d been begging her mom for months to let her have a weapon, but she’d refused, on the basis that Ava might hurt herself. Which was ludicrous, given that she received weapons training from some of the country's most deadly spies, assassins and agents.
Ava loved SHIELD headquarters. As a child she’d run wild through the corridors, now she spent afternoons in the training rooms, practising with every kind of weapon under the sun. Auntie Nat taught her guns, Uncle Clint taught her bows, Loki taught her magic. Not to brag, but she was kinda the house darling. Pretty much everyone liked her, and was more than willing to let her tag along both in training and in leisure. Grandpa Nick even let her sit in on meetings occasionally, Goose purring in her lap, as long as she stayed quiet.
Visiting diplomats were always charmed by a cutesy-pie blonde, bouncing around with her beloved pet, and Ava played this to all her might. More than one tense meeting had been smoothed over by a strategic interlude of innocence. Ava wasn’t stupid - she knew how to make herself useful.
Back in the present, she grabbed her godfather’s hand and dragged him back into the main room. She loved birthdays, or any celebration really, because it was an excuse for Aunt Laura, Cooper and Lila to come down from the farm.
Ever since she’d started school, and Coop a year later, she’d seen way less of her best-friend, who went to the local school near his rural home.
She missed Coop a lot during term time, even with her other friends around her. Coop was the only one who really understood. The only one who understood how it was to have a parent who might not come home. The only one who spent anxious weeks waiting for the call to say that everyone was okay and back in base.
It was bad enough when only one of them were away, but the few times everyone was was hell. The first time it had happened, and she’d learnt that they’d lost contact with both mom, Natty and Clint on a mission, she’d had a panic attack. Moments later, as anxious agents gathered round her, Loki had appeared in a burst of green light, telekinetically smacking half the agents away, clearing a path to her.
He’d held her carefully, rocking her back and forth, calming her breathing and wiping her tears. As it had been the holidays, and she was off school, he’d convinced Grandpa Nick to let him take her with him to Asgard.
She’d spent the next two weeks there, calling home every night on a modified phone, hiding out in Loki’s spacious chambers. He showed her his home, walked her along the rainbow bridge, showed her the depths of the lagoon. She’d been concealed, of course, staying invisible during her stay, and hiding away from Loki’s dad, who was scarier than he said. She thought that Thor seemed nice, though a bit thoughtless when it came to others. The only ones she had met were the servants. Ava couldn’t help but think it was weird to have actual servants, but quickly got used to the fussing she received whenever Loki took her down to the kitchens. Kas, predictably, had been smitten, and had started a petition to keep her on Asgard, much to Ava’s amusement.
Her favourite part by far, however, had been the forest Loki had in one of his rooms. She had been astounded at the world he’d created, and in awe of him in a way she’d never been before. It was one thing knowing he was powerful, but a whole nother thing to see it first hand.
At the end of the two weeks, they’d received a call from Nick that the three had returned, bedraggled but alive.
In the end, it turned out that they’d gotten lost, and with mom and Aunt Nat with head injuries, and Uncle Clint’s terrible sense of direction they’d somehow ended up in Budapest. None of them remember what the hell had happened in that time, but they’d arrived at a safe house with 3 broken ribs, two concussions, a few bullet wounds and a duffel bag of bootleg whiskey.
The event went down in SHIELD history as the Budapest mission, although the actual Budapest mission was a few months later, when they returned to figure out what the hell had actually happened.
The pair made their way back into the room together, Loki still holding Ava’s hand. As they returned to their family, who were gathered in the Kingsley’s living room, Ava broke away from Loki to grab Nat, dragging her Aunt into a hug.
“привет малыш” said Nat, swinging her niece into her arms. Ava giggled, squeezing her Aunt tightly. ((Hello Little One))
“тетя Таша!” said Ava in return. Nat often spoke to her in Russian and she was fluent in the language by this point. ((Aunt Tasha!))
“готов к твоему сюрпризу?” ((Ready for your surprise?))
“да да да!” (Yes, yes, yes!)
Nat chuckled, looking fondly at the girl before carefully letting her to the ground again.
No one noticed her slipping something into her coat.
And as the little party left the room, no one noticed her slipping those self-same objects back into Loki’s pocket.
Honestly, they’d had this conversation. Knives were not suitable birthday gifts. In front of Elena at least.