Pepper was growing quite desperate with her daughter.
Morgan was an amazing girl, and she couldn’t have asked for a better daughter.
The problem was that she had inherited a bit too many traits from her father.
She was terribly smart and creative, just like her dad, and Pepper was delighted to see how the girl’s mind had become always more active and agile, but she hadn’t just picked those aspects from Tony.
She had evidently inherited also the ones that still made Tony a nightmare for his PR department.
Morgan obviously wasn’t doing all the reckless things Tony had done when he was fifteen, and that was already a relief.
Of course she was being greatly helped on that front.
While Tony hadn’t had anyone to take care of him in his most reckless years, Morgan had both Pepper and Tony to care for her, with the addition of Loki, who by now Pepper considered as her daughter’s third parent.
Sneaking out at night to go to a party without permission? Not so easy to do that when a mage could materialise in front of you and send you back to bed simply snapping his fingers.
But that wasn’t what Pepper was getting exasperated about.
Morgan had also her father’s fashion sense, which meant that she had an impeccable taste for clothes and accessories, but no idea of the right occasion to wear them.
Pepper still remembered one memorable time when she hadn’t been able to supervise Morgan’s choice of clothes for a meeting with the Vice President, and the girl had showed up in yoga pants and a dirty t-shirt with cats printed on it, and Pepper would have started yelling at her to go get changed, but then Tony had entered in the room wearing jeans, an old Black Sabbath t-shirt, and with grease on his cheek.
Pepper had just sighed.
What had her on the verge of yelling again was that two days later, paparazzi had photographed Morgan eating an hot dog in a wonderful Prada sundress.
It was time to get the big guns out.
There was one person currently residing in the Stark Tower that may have helped her win this battle.
If there was someone as exasperated as she was by the two Starks’ clothing choices, that was Loki; when Morgan had started showing up in the same wrong dressing code, Loki had considered it cute since it was something she had taken directly from Tony, but as time went on, he would have preferred for Morgan to start dressing like a real lady in the right occasions.
It was obvious it wasn’t something they were forcing the girl to do since she loved clothes and could spend hours shopping with her mother, or her dad, or Loki (basically anyone who owned a wallet), and the only thing she lacked was the attention to choose from her wide wardrobe the right attire for the occasion she was supposed to attend.
It wasn’t even a sort of teen protest, a rebel phase. She just didn’t pay attention.
The only time Morgan had actually paid attention to the right dressing code for every occasion she had participated to, had been when Loki had wanted to take Tony and Morgan to visit Asgard, and introduce them to his family.
That time, she had basked in the possibility to strut around like a real princess – Loki had introduced her as his step-daughter, and since Loki was still a Crown Prince she had been considered royalty as well – and had enjoyed all the clothes Frigga had had made for her.
Maybe that wasn’t her granddaughter in blood, but that hadn’t prevented Frigga from spoiling her like only a grandmother could have.
As they were on Asgard, Morgan had behaved like a real princess, all chin held up high and formal Asgardian hairstyles, not even one outfit wrong.
If Loki had to be honest, not even Tony had stepped out of line once.
Tony knew how nervous Loki was for that, how important it was for him to be accepted in Asgard with his new family, so he had done his best to help Loki on that front. Even if that meant wearing ridiculous tunics and leather pants.
That two weeks visit had gone incredibly well, allowing Loki to sigh in relief when they had returned to New York, and from then on Morgan had decided she would have maintained her new title of princess – of both Asgard and Jotunheim, when she had discovered that Loki had a claim on both Realms – and used that when she most liked it.
Someone at school mocked her? She told them to bow in front of her because that was how peasants addressed royalty.
A particularly rude teacher reproached her for not being paying attention? She had two, no, three Realms to think about, Wordsworth was the least of her problems.
Once she had attempted the same method with her father when he had tried to send her to bed, but he had shut her up saying that his title of Prince Consort was still an higher rank than hers, and Morgan had had to yield.
~
“You should talk to her,” Pepper concluded over her cup of tea, once she had finished explaining her problem to Loki; an important event for the SI was approaching, and she really needed Morgan to make a good impression.
She was 15 now, and the press was starting paying more attention to her as the future heiress to Tony’s empire. Not that Tony would have died really soon since the day of his wedding with Loki he had received a Golden Apple – just like Morgan and Pepper – but the press didn’t need to know that.
“You’re her mother, if you tell her how important it is I’m sure she’ll listen,” Loki said, reaching for the plate of scones.
“She won’t,” Pepper shook her head, “She’s at that age where if I say something, it’s the most stupid thing she’s ever heard. I think she’s dressing with the wrong clothes on purpose at this point. At least Tony doesn’t realise it, I think Morgan is doing that to piss me off.”
Loki hummed.
Morgan had indeed grown up into a stubborn young woman, and Pepper’s insistence may have been counterproductive.
“And you think she’ll listen to me?”
“She adores you, Loki. Have you noticed how she keeps sporting the hairstyles your mother taught her on Asgard?”
Loki hid a smirk in his cup. Yes, he had noticed.
“If you tell her something, she’ll listen to you much more than me.”
“We’ll talk to her together,” Loki said after a while, “I will back you up if you need my help, but I won’t take your place.”
“I think you’ll have a lot of backing up to do.”
Loki laughed a bit, “Shall we call her?”
“I don’t think there’s a better time than now,” she sighed, “Jarvis, can you tell Morgan to come here?”
“Of course.”
It took a few minutes for Morgan to arrive, during which Loki and Pepper finished their tea and scones.
“What?” she asked.
“Morgan, sit down with us.”
Morgan frowned, but took a sit, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong, I just wanted to talk with you.”
“I’m busy, mom.”
“It’ll just take a moment.”
“I hope so.”
Had Loki and Thor spoken to Frigga in that way, they would have been punished for a week, but it wasn’t Loki’s place to say that. Not yet.
“You know the SI annual gala is approaching, and that the press will be present. Would you please, just for once, make the effort of picking up the right outfit for the occasion?”
Morgan’s roll of eyes was oddly reminiscent of her father’s, “You dragged me here to tell me this?”
“Yes, Morgan, because lately your consideration of your position has been abysmal. I know you didn’t choose to be born in the spotlight, but you don’t hate it either.”
“So? I should just be your monkey to dress up anyway you like?”
“You’re just being rude with your mother, Morgan,” Loki interrupted her, “What she’s saying is true. You are an important person on three different Realms, as you like reminding people,” Loki smirked in the girl’s direction, seeing her blush; she didn’t strut around much with Loki present, but it was impossible to hide him anything, “And it is true. You indeed are royalty, on Asgard, Jotunheim, and even here, even though you don’t have an official royal family in the United States. But being royalty isn’t just having people bow at your command,” he have her a knowing look, “It is also respecting the rules that come with the role. People look up at royals and expect a certain image of them, and if you want to still be considered as such, you should give them what they want.”
“I thought you didn’t care about other people’s opinions.”
“I don’t, but have you ever seen me disrespect the customs of any Realms?”
Morgan pouted, unable to counter that.
“Your mother is just asking you to respect the etiquette of an important event by doing something you actually like doing. You love all your beautiful dresses, I don’t see why you shouldn’t wear one for an event where you’re an ambassador of your family.”
It took her a while, but in the end Morgan nodded her assent.
Pepper hid her smirk in the cup of tea she had refilled. Oh yes, bringing Loki into that had been the right call.
~
“Is the bow tie okay?” Tony asked, checking the knot in the mirror. He should have been able to do it well by now, but he still wasn’t an expert.
“Just a bit quirked to the left. Wait,” Loki stepped behind him and fixed it, before depositing a kiss on Tony’s temple.
“Stop reminding me how tall you are.”
“Learn how to dress properly and I’ll stop.”
Tony laughed and elbowed him in the ribs, but Loki dodged him easily, “You look as dashing as always,” he said, appreciating how Loki’s black suit and shirt hugged his form, and how the emerald tie matched his eyes. Had it been for him, he would have just cancelled the gala and slowly stripped Loki of all those items of clothing.
“As always?” Loki looked down at his suit jacket, “I thought you’d have appreciated the effort I put in picking the right outfit for your event,” he pouted.
“Don’t try that with me. It may have worked ten years ago, but not now,” Tony pecked him on the lips and Loki couldn’t hold back a smile.
“Do you like the suit, though?”
“Of course I do. You’d look better without, so I hate it a bit, but…”
“You’re insufferable,” Loki laughed, pushing Tony back.
“And yet I’ve already picked the gift for our eleventh anniversary.”
“We’ll see if you also remember the right day.”
“Only because I got it wrong three times!”
“Five.”
“No, I… yeah, five,” he admitted, “Ready?”
“I’ve been waiting for you for the last twenty minutes.”
“You were playing Angry Birds.”
“As I waited for you.”
“You truly looked suffering, yeah.”
“You really are insufferable.”
“Remind me again, didn’t you marry me?”
“Even I make mistakes.”
They got put of their bedroom still laughing, and went to the living room to wait for Morgan.
If there was someone still able to beat them all in the time required for getting ready, that was Morgan.
When the girl showed up, though, Loki stared her down with an unimpressed glare.
Morgan was sporting a grey sweater, a pair of ripped shorts, and currently had two different shoes on.
“What the hell are you wearing?” Tony asked, his eyes going wide in front of his daughter.
Morgan didn’t answer, her brown eyes full of mischief as she challenged Loki.
That girl was a smartass just like her father.
A condescending smirk appeared on the god’s face as he quirked an eyebrow.
Without even blinking, Loki raised his right hand and snapped his fingers.
To Morgan’s dismay, her old clothes turned in a fabulous green and gold cocktail dress, her shoes matching the style of the dress while they became black, and her hair getting magically braided in Loki’s favourite hairstyle.
“You still have a long way to go before beating me at mischief, young lady,” Loki smirked, pushing his family in the elevator so they could all get to Tony’s gala.