Allegiance: Reunion

“She’s beautiful, Thor!”

Pepper seemed enthralled by Fríða. There was a bright smile upon her lips, so much so that it was clear she had fallen completely in love with the small girl, and so far she seemed unable to look away from Fríða in the slightest. It was a rather endearing sight, for he felt from Pepper a deep maternal love that he had not seen on another since the death of his mother. The sound of his daughter laughing and squealing could be heard from across the other side of the room, much to Tony’s displeasure.

There was little sympathy for the other man, for it was clear that he had spent the majority of the evening before engaging in some sort of social event, and – whilst that was no crime in itself – he still had a faint smell of alcohol to his breath. He nursed his hangover almost reverently, with fingers gently massaging his temples and his eyes forever closed lest any light enter them. It was clear that he was no longer able to handle his drink as well as he once had, especially so when night-terrors still plagued him at night and deprived him of sleep, and so every sound – even slight gurgles of contentment – made him wince and flinch. He was in pain.

Pepper evidently did not care very much about her boyfriend’s hangover, especially when she strove to make Fríða talk and laugh as much as possible, and indeed it seemed that his daughter loved this woman very much. Fríða enjoyed being bounced on the older woman’s hip; she would reach up with small hands and try to reach the long ponytail that trailed over Pepper’s shoulder, just as she would occasionally pull at the business jacket to try and gain higher purchase. It seemed that Pepper had a natural talent for children, as she walked barefoot about the apartment in her suit.

“I am glad that you enjoy her company,” said Thor.

“How could I not? She’s a delight!”

There was a murmur from Tony that sounded like he felt quite the opposite, but – even as he lay upon the sofa with a wet flannel upon his head – no one else seemed to share his opinion or care for his thoughts. Bruce merely walked past and loudly placed a glass of cold water beside Tony on a low table, where no doubt a ring would form underneath the already beading condensation, and Steve simply sat in an armchair not too far away and watched them with a nervous smile.

Thor stood at the bar beside a seated Natasha, where he overlooked the room with an expression that he hoped did not betray the fear that he felt, for this was the first trip that his daughter had taken away from Loki and spent alone with Thor. He had never before considered himself a cowardly man or a nervous man, but every second alone with his daughter in a distant realm made him worry. It was not the same as waking multiple times in the night to tend to her cries, or taking her away for her baths or feeding, for in those times Loki or the servants would never be far in case of emergency. He feared every time she stirred or fretted, for he knew not what he would do should something bad happen to her and were he to be powerless to help.

“Does this give you any ideas, Tony?” Pepper asked.

“For a vasectomy? Yes.”

“I think we all think that idea in your case,” murmured Bruce.

Bruce walked up to Pepper, who had taken to standing by the large wall-to-wall windows to point out objects far away to a wide-eyed babe, and he leaned down slightly to take a small hand in his and pull faces of wonder at incoherent babbling. It did not take long for Pepper to hand over Fríða with a small laugh, just as it did not take long for the expression of Bruce’s face to show the mixture of longing and regret that he felt on holding the child of one of his friends. It was a sad yet beautiful sight.

It was then that Tony sat up and flung the flannel from his face onto the table; his eyes still appeared tired and heavy, so that the wet cloth appeared to have had no effect in the slightest. He let his eyes scan the well-lit room and swore under his breath, for the light was clearly too much for him to bear in his still inebriated state. There was a long moment where Thor simply cherished the feeling of camaraderie and the company of his fellow Avengers, for it was not often that he was able to spend time in their company without the prospect of imminent danger, and yet Tony was clearly incapable of silence. He huffed loudly and swung his legs onto the floor.

“Why do I always get the abuse?” Tony asked.

“Abuse?” Natasha replied. “I thought the ‘genius, billionaire, playboy philanthropist’ would be able to handle a little ribbing. I’ll have to amend my next report to Fury.”

“See! That -! Right there! That’s what I’m talking about!”

“Could you keep it down?” Bruce interrupted.

Thor smiled to see that his daughter slept in his friend’s arms. He had her held upright against his breast, with her head rested against his heart so as to listen to his heartbeat, and he bounced her just gently enough so as not to disturb her. It was exactly the same method that Loki would use to tend to their daughter, and so she appeared comforted by the familiar hold. Pepper leaned into Bruce and gently stroked his daughter’s blonde locks, whilst whispering to her words that he could not quite place.

“I don’t see why I should,” snapped Tony. “You didn’t even want to hold her.”

“Maybe I ought to hand her back?”

Thor raised his hand from across the room. He gave a nervous smile and shook his head, for he knew perfectly well that the other half of Bruce would never allow harm to befall his daughter, let alone be a legitimate threat. It had been heartbreaking to see one of his closest friends so afraid and holding his child, especially when he could see the desire that Bruce held to one day have a child of his own to hold and to love. It must have been painful indeed to be reminded of an unattainable dream.

There was a breeze from outside that howled against the closed windows, enough so that he thought to how his husband would likely appreciate such weather, although it did seem as if thunder was soon to be on its way. Loki never had appreciated thunder, simply for its associations and often for its cause. The view from Stark Tower was quite impressive, however, so that it provided an excellent view of Midgard and its people, and Thor was reminded well of the responsibility that he held to this realm and to his fellow comrades. He would instil a deep sense of love for these people in his daughter, for one day she would watch over these people in his stead.

He watched as Bruce moved slowly across the room to sit on the far end of the sofa from Tony, where he gave a rather apologetic look and shrugged his shoulders. Pepper joined Thor with Natasha at the bar area, although she kept her gaze fixed upon his daughter and seemed almost pained to have left her side, and she whispered to them both about how she missed the ‘new baby smell’ with a look of nostalgia in her eyes that he had not anticipated. It made Thor smile to hear her talk with such warmth, even if Tony seemed reluctant to have people on his floor of the tower.

It was not long before Steve interrupted the amiable quiet. He cleared his throat and looked around the room as if unsure of how to proceed, which was a feeling that Thor could relate well with, for so often did he feel an outsider amongst his friends of this realm. Times changed quickly in Midgard, which both men knew all too well, and so it was often difficult for either to know how to talk or act without causing possible offence or seeming odd in some way. Steve took a chance:

“So,” asked Steve, “who’s the lucky lady?”

“I am afraid that it is a difficult question to answer, my friend.”

“We heard from Pepper about recent events on Asgard. Jane worked with S.H.I.E.L.D. on some research in London a few months ago, so she let us know about the arranged marriage; you needn’t feel ashamed.”

“I fear that Jane Foster may have left out some vital information.”

“Do you think we wouldn’t approve of your wife?”

“Aye, that could be said.”

Thor looked briefly upon his daughter. It was clear that she slept well in the arms of his friend, although every now and again she would murmur in her sleep as if talking to someone that they could not see or hear in their waking state, and she drooled just a little on the older man’s shoulder in a way Loki often claimed she got from Thor. He wondered if any of them had noticed Fríða’s deep green eyes or familiar facial shape, or whether they had dismissed those features in recognition of the more obvious ones.

The room felt somewhat cold all of a sudden, so that Thor wished that they were on the floor of the tower that belonged to him, for then the temperature would be one that was warm like the summer Asgard currently experienced. He looked from face to face to try and ascertain how his friends would react to the news that he had wedded one once considered to be his brother, but all of his companions seemed lost in worlds of their own creation. Pepper and Bruce were clearly infatuated with his daughter, whilst Natasha and Tony appeared bored and longed to be elsewhere, and Steve – ever patient and noble – strove to make polite conversation however he could. Thor decided upon brutal honesty:

“Loki is my husband,” said Thor.

The ensuing silence said all that words could not. In a matter of seconds Bruce had handed to Tony the baby in his arms, which the more cynical man accepted as if he had been handed a highly volatile device. He wrapped his hands around Fríða’s chest and held her a foot from his chest, although thankfully she was old enough not to need any support for her head, and winced as she began to cry. Bruce had already walked away when Steve took Fríða from Tony, but he held her well enough that she began to giggle and smile in his embrace. He rested her on his legs and tickled her, all whilst pulling faces that Loki often refused to pull. He was not ashamed to make her smile. 

Bruce stood by the window and looked out over the city, with one hand upon his hip and the other that he held over his mouth. He appeared exhausted suddenly, old beyond his years, and the flicker of grey upon his hair reminded Thor of how fragile and short-lived those of this realm truly were, so that a pang of grief struck him as he thought briefly to his Midgardian son. It was Tony that spoke first, which distracted Thor from his thoughts and his frustrated friend by the window.

“Loki?” Tony asked. “Your brother?”

“He is –”

“Adopted? Yeah, that excuses it.”

“You do not understand. Asgard is not like your realm; we differ in many customs. The only familial ties that bind are those of blood or marriage, all else relies on a claim of one person upon another, and thus adoption does not carry the same weight as it does for your people. Loki and I share no blood. It means that our sole tie relied upon our father’s claim upon Loki . . . that claim was our brotherhood . . .

“Once our father disowned Loki that claim was gone. The claim upon Loki would be reverted back to his birth father, Laufey of Jotunheim, and thus Loki was no longer considered to be an Asgardian or of our family. It was a necessary course of action, for without any familial ties it enabled Loki and me to marry, which was necessary for both political and personal reasons. Our marriage has united two realms. It was truly difficult at first, for a millennium of childhood memories cannot be erased, but as we are no longer brothers it was not considered a forbidden relationship.”

“Good God . . . you’re not joking, are you?”

“I speak only the truth.”

Tony slapped his legs with his hands, before he shook his head and stood up with a rather exaggerated movement. It seemed that Steve had gained a much sterner expression, although he did not particularly react in any negative way overall, as if he perhaps strove to gather his thoughts before committing to a judgement. The same could not be said for Tony, who – after looking around as if for support – threw up his hands in surrender and looked coldly to Thor.

“I need another drink.”

He walked across the room to the bar, where Pepper at once nudged him hard in his ribs and waited for him to say something. Tony merely raised his hands as if to ask what she wanted, before he wandered around the bar and began to pour himself a drink, and meanwhile Bruce turned around where he stood by the window. The other man gave a heavy exhale of breath and returned to his spot upon the sofa, where Steve looked over to him and nodded to the baby on his lap. Bruce shook his head and raised his hand high. He clearly did not yet feel ready to resume responsibility.

“So whose child is this?” Steve asked.

“That’s what bothers you?” Tony interrupted. “You have an ancient Norse god here, all bronzed and with surprisingly shorn hair, and he’s just told you that he’s been banging his brother, and you’re more worried about who the mother is? Wow, just wow! I have to say, you’re surprisingly laidback for the frozen cap’sicle that walked about freely long before anyone gay did!”

“Tony, homosexuality has existed since the dawn of time. I studied quite a lot of Greek and Norse mythology in my spare time, and I can honestly say that the twenty-first century does not have a monopoly on sexuality.”

“Ooh, interesting! You hiding something there in that cold closet of yours?”

“Freud would have a field day with you,” Natasha spat.

“Hey!”

Thor smiled weakly and looked to Fríða. The truth was that he felt no shame in the heritage of his daughter; he held great faith that one day she would walk free in Jotun form and prove that all races were truly equal in worth, just as she would prove that the slur of ‘ergi’ meant nothing when such men were capable of raising such a fine heir despite all that was said. She would be an inspiration for many, including her fellow women much in a way that Sif herself was. He had great hopes for Fríða.

It was understandable that his friends would question his daughter’s parentage; the ability to bear young was exclusively female upon many realms, and Thor himself had not known any man to bear young until he and Loki had shared such a gift. There were very few same-sex couples in Asgard, for there was still a great stigma against the recipient in such acts, and Thor would admit that even he had yet to find the bravery to admit to receiving, as he knew that he would lose the respect of his men. He was certain his friends would believe he had used a surrogate to carry his child, or perhaps they believed him capable of having a mistress. He could guess not.

Bruce reached out to stroke Fríða’s blonde hair, with a sad look upon his face that spoke of a darkness that Thor could not understand. It was a darkness that seemed to follow those that had fallen into the abyss, literally in the case of his husband, and it was a the look of a man resigned to his misery and content in discontentment. He pulled back and ran a hand over his face, as if he were trying to make sense of a problem so complex that it exhausted him to consider it. Steve and Tony thought about Fríða’s parentage, but Bruce seemed to think of something else entirely.

“Loki is the one that bore Fríða,” said Thor.

“Wait? Loki?” Pepper asked. “I – that’s – well, that’s a little hard to believe.”

“No kidding,” answered Tony. “Can you imagine that? The poor kid that tries to nurse off that guy will probably end up with the worst case of frostbite and brain-freeze. Seriously, marriage is one thing, but you two actually . . .? What was that like?”

“You will show some respect!” Thor snapped. “Loki may no longer be of Asgard, but he is my husband the father of my child! You also know not of what he has sacrificed in these long months of war between our two realms. It is a long story, my friends, but it is a story I will gladly tell, so long as you do not speak of my husband as if he is no more than a trophy or a burden! He is a good father to Frida.”

“Okay, then why don’t I be a bit more discreet?”

“You? Discreet?” Bruce asked.

Tony gave him a rather amused look. There was a great friendship and professional respect between the two men, enough so that Tony was clearly amused by a comment that – from any other – would have otherwise have resulted in great offence. He raised his hand into what appeared to be an L-shape and shot a gesture towards Bruce, that Thor assumed was supposed to be amiable and a sign of camaraderie, before he downed a glass of alcohol and slammed it hard upon the bar surface.

“Its just last time I looked men can’t exactly get pregnant,” said Tony.

“Aye, that is most certainly true,” Thor agreed.

“Unless . . . Loki is a guy, right?”

Thor was on his feet at once. It was too great an insult to hear any slur cast against his husband, particularly against his manhood when Loki was so sensitive to such words. There was no hiding his anger; he could feel well how his nails dug into his palm as he clenched his fists, just as he could hear his heartbeat loud within his ears. The stool upon which he sat fell over with the force with which he stood, so that at once Natasha was on her feet also and seemed to be on high alert.

He felt the tension high in the air, enough so that he regretted how Loki could not attend, for his husband – when he so wished – often held the gift to put an end to any fight and to settle any argument. It was likely that Tony did not mean what he said to be as offensive as he had made it sound, for he was a man that spoke his mind and thought little of the consequences, but Thor could not control his response or the way that Mjölnir seemed to resonate where she sat near to him. There had been a time long ago when he had used his full-strength against Steve and Tony, but that was not an option any longer. He breathed in deeply and tried to remain calm. He could not hear Loki slighted, but he could understand why they would do so. 

“Do not insult my husband!”

“What Tony is trying to say,” said Bruce, “is how is this possible?”

“I believe I read in Norse mythology that gods were attributed with special abilities,” replied Steve. “Loki was often said to be able to change gender and species; they say he birthed a wolf, a serpent and even a horse. Could that be it?”

“You mean could he shape-shift? I guess anything is possible.” Bruce shifted on the sofa and reached out to take Fríða again in his arms. “There are a handful of cases where people have been known to change shape; it’s not all that common, but you and I exist as living proof that such things are possible. The problem is your change was permanent and mine . . . well -. Let’s just say I doubt that anyone would be able to change their form voluntarily and hold it for the time required to carry a child.”

“You are correct,” said Thor. “Loki does not hold any such ability. The stories that your ancestors told were grossly exaggerated; it is a sensitive point that I would ask not be mentioned before my husband. There is great magic in our realm, and it is this magic that Loki uses to cast the illusions that he does, but he cannot change form.”

“Then just how was this possible? If Loki can’t change forms . . .”

“He is Jotun by birth.”

The silence that fell came from a lack of understanding. It was known to all those present that many realms and worlds existed, but Thor had yet to discuss the details of such places for his friends to be familiar with the names and people. He lifted his stool and sat upon it; Tony wandered back around to sit upon the sofa, all the while making overly theatrical gestures in return to Steve and Bruce’s subtle looks and whispered words. Natasha gave a simple sigh and Pepper watched quietly as she awaited the inevitable explanation, knowing better than to force it.

“The Jotun are not like those from Asgard,” explained Thor. “They are born with the ability to both carry young and create young. Loki once explained it as the channel being akin to a river that spits into two paths, but that would be a crass simplification. I can bring you many books, if the subject interests you. Let me say for now simply that Fríða belongs to both myself and Loki; no one else bore her.”

“Well, that explains that, I suppose,” said Tony.

“Thor?” Bruce interjected. “Can I ask you a question?”

It was difficult to gauge Bruce’s expression. He was quite often a serious person by nature, but often when Thor looked to him he would see a smile that lingered almost fragile upon his features, and yet now that smile was gone completely. There was a look of worry in his eyes that could not be ignored, and he gazed hard upon Thor as if he sought to analyse him and see deep inside him. Thor knew not what to make of it.

Fríða laughed from where she sat, apparently content to be bounced upon Bruce’s knee, and every now and then she would reach forward to try and grab at his face, only to stumble somewhat and try all over. There was a brief moment when Thor looked to his daughter and felt the urge to hold her quite strong, for the atmosphere in the room was tense and one that he wished to protect her from, and the last time she was in a room with such a dark atmosphere it had been when her life was in danger. He found many fears and memories brought to the surface.

“Did Loki see any justice for his actions?”

“Aye, he did,” said Thor. “He was imprisoned for many months within the dungeons of Asgard, although our mother spoiled him greatly. She would send him many gifts, so that – when all other cells were sparse – his cell was furnished to great comfort. I often chastised her, but she would only say that my father and I cast great shadows . . . she sought to share with him what love she held for him. She loved him greatly.

“It was not long after that my mother convinced me to agree to a marriage with Loki, so that he would be free to leave his cell and return to normal life, and she convinced my father to disown Loki to make this possible. We were not expected to consummate the marriage, nor was it meant as a permanent solution, and so you may think Loki to have escaped his karma and served no true punishment. This is not the case. In the previous year Loki had suffered greatly; we were forced to consummate our union, he has endured great slander, and we lost our mother. He now stands as a man lost in great grief, but he strives to move forward.”

“I’m sorry for your loss, Thor,” replied Bruce. “I truly am. It’s just that doesn’t exactly seem like just recompense for everything he did. He brainwashed Clint and Eric Selvig, he killed – I don’t even know how many – people, and let’s not forget that he tried to kill you too . . . it’s a lot to forgive, especially when he’s now married to the heir to your realm and walking freely.”

“I can understand your reticence, my friend. It is why I refrained from bringing Loki.”

“That was probably for the best, all things considered.”

It was then that Fríða stirred. Thor wondered if perhaps she sensed the hostility towards the one that bore her, for she always seemed to find great comfort whenever held or spoken to by Loki. It was true that she held a greater attachment to Thor, although he would never admit that fact to his husband due to fear of hurting him, but she loved Loki very much and seemed to hold his ability of being able to read the atmosphere of a room. She likely sensed the tension.

Bruce tried for a long moment to make her smile once more, but she struggled in his grasp and continued to scream until her face became red. It was not yet time for her to be fed and nor did she need to be changed, and so there was no real reason for her to cry as she did, but Thor recognised the tone of the sound well enough: she pined for a parent. Thor admitted that he perhaps spoiled her, so that many nights Loki would storm into the nursery to find Thor asleep with their daughter upon his chest, just as he would always bathe with her and make sure that he never ate before her unless she ate also, and – as Loki had predicted – it had led to a child that could not bear to be parted from him for long. He would need to tend to her.

He gestured for Bruce to bring his daughter to him, which he knew for a fact Loki would disapprove, for his husband sought to teach their daughter to tend to herself and to be independent. He sought for nights without tears, just as he hoped for others to watch their daughter without their needed presence, but she was not yet a year old and so Thor felt it excusable to spoil her so. Thor took his daughter from Bruce and smiled as she immediately ceased to cry. She trained her green eyes upon him and began to giggle and talk incoherently.

“I apologise,” said Thor. “She does not endure separation well.”

“It’s no problem,” answered Bruce. “It might things a little harder on Pepper though; I can see that you won’t ever have an issue finding a baby-sitter, although you might have to explain to Loki why his daughter’s been kidnapped by an Earthling.”

“Bruce certainly has a point,” Pepper said with a laugh.

Pepper reached out to tickle Fríða’s chin, but his daughter had apparently grown shy. It only took a brief second for her to bury her face against Thor’s chest, where she looked out to Pepper with a cheeky smile and seemed to make the act into a game, where – every time the older woman would reach out to her – she would giggle and hide. He tried on occasion to hand her to Pepper, but suddenly the pleasant game would turn into genuine tears and she would cling to Thor as if for life. He dreaded the moment when he would need to leave her alone. She would not cope well.

“It seems like we have a lot to catch up on,” said Bruce.

“Well, we might as well go out and get a drink then,” Tony ventured. “If Pepper is willing to play babysitter, we might as well find out what this big lug’s been up to and have some fun. Actually, while we’re at it, we can grill Steve there about what’s going on at S.H.I.E.L.D., I wouldn’t mind but . . . how many of your guys are coming to me asking for jobs now? I’m starting to think you’re trying to infiltrate me!”

“I wouldn’t like to venture forth an opinion, especially around Natasha and Steve, but you might have a point in all fairness. Still, you might want to ask Pepper if she’s willing to baby-sit, before you start making plans.”

“What? Pepper’s fine! She loves kids! It’s be weird if she didn’t say yes!”

“Well,” she said, “one more child won’t make a difference.”

“Ouch! Right at my heart!”

It was clear that he had not lost their friendship, but Thor did not fool himself into believing that they would accept Loki with open arms. He would no doubt be quizzed extensively upon his new relationship, with Natasha in particular curious as to the details, and he was certain that Clint – on his return to their fold – would be as furious as Eric had been. He hoped to use the evening to converse with his fellow Avengers on the issue, perhaps to win them over . . .

He sighed and gently slid Fríða into Pepper’s arms. There was a brief moment when it seemed that his daughter would be happy to be fussed by another, but she had reached her limit for the day in terms of socialisation. It was true she held a need for the company of people as Thor did, but – like Loki – she also seemed easily overwhelmed by too long in the presence of others, and so she began to scream in earnest. There was no greater pain than to see her struggle so, with her hands opening and closing in her father’s direction, and he could see Tony wince as his head began to ache. Fríða’s eyes looked red and swollen; he almost questioned if her form would hold.

“Are you sure it will not be an inconvenience?”

“Not in the slightest,” said Pepper. “You go have some fun!”

It was clear that his daughter was slowly calming down, perhaps her frustration was exasperated by tiredness, but he felt an intense wave of guilt and fear at the idea of leaving her. She chewed upon the knuckles of her hand, whilst she gave big choked sobs and looked longingly upon Thor. It was only when Steve stood by his side that he was reminded of how long it had been since he had seen his friends, and the slap upon his back – patient and affectionate – reminded him of the camaraderie they shared. He could trust Pepper and this would be good for Fríða.

“It is good to be back with my friends,” said Thor.

“Good to have you back, too,” Tony replied.