Chapter Text
Chapter 1 – Broken… hearted?
There was magic and there was magic and then there was magic. And having lived in Asgard for the last few years, Tony was well aware of the different types of magic there were. For instance Loki’s magic was all big, flashy, throwing out all the rules of science, doing things that were totally impossible, except impossible or not he did them with an elegant flick of his wrists.
And then there was the more common magic that the palace servants seemed to have down to an art. Tony was 100% certain that almost every servant in the palace had an invisibility cloak. Because truly that was the only way to explain how a cold glass of milk, and a plate with a cookie on it appeared at his elbow without either him or Ash noticing anything.
And then there was the last kind of magic, which was evidenced by glancing down at the snack that had been left for Odin’s favorite/only grandson. Laying there on an intricately pierced parchment doily of some sort, precisely in the center of the delicately gold rimmed plate, the lone cookie was a fricken work of art. The damn thing defied logic. It wasn’t just that the fucking chocolate chips were laid out in a pattern that was almost impossibly precise. Or that there was an absolutely even distribution of nut morsels baked into it. Or even, because there the dusting of powdered sugar was in a design that Tony was pretty sure was impossible for human hands to duplicate. Hell, looking at them, you would be tempted into swearing the damn thing was a computer-generated hologram created by a particularly OCD artist. Except… A hologram would not have tiny wisps of mouthwatering, chocolatey fragrance wafting up from it.
In short, the damn thing was perfect in every way, just as a cookie destined to be consumed by the only grandson of Asgard’s king was required to be.
And, upon catching a glimpse of it, the child was now happy. This was good, because two hours ago, while the family was visiting Grand Dam, said beloved Hope of the House of Stark, had quickly become unhappy when his Móðir had to suddenly leave. Mediation between a subcommittee of the crown council and the fledgling Confederation of Progress was important, and unfortunately not scheduled around their plans for the day. Regardless of their plans for the day, personal responsibility was important, since Loki’s Mischief Net was the movement’s catalyst and House of Stark was the Confederation’s technically secret, but not really, Angel Backer.
So yeah no matter how bad it messed up their plans, Loki, as the more politically knowledgeable of the two of them, did really have an obligation to assist.
At any rate, having his Móðir being called away on what was supposed to be their Family Day did not make for a happy kiddo. Mister Cranky’s emotional state clearly worsened, as evidenced by the child’s tightly crossed arms, and a lower lip that was becoming more and more pronounced.
“Tony, I think perhaps it would be a good idea to put Aśbrand down for a little nap,” Frigga had suggested, settling down on the couch beside the child, and carding her fingers through his soft brown curls.
And yeah that was probably a good idea, since they were expected to be present at dinner that evening in the great hall.
So Tony headed towards their only occasionally used, palace apartment, with every intention of putting Ash to sleep. However, Ash spotted a pot of crayons he had forgotten he’d left there… And so they ended up sitting side by side at the nursery’s work table with large sheets of paper in front of each of them. Ash, sitting on a booster seat, being reminded not to nibble on the crayons, as Tony idly sketched out designs with those same crayons because Jarvis had a tendency to lock down all his tablets when Tony had sole custody of the sprout.
It was during this period of time that one of the palace’s ninja servants slipped in to bring Ash a mug of milk and a piece of high art work disguised as a chocolate chip cookie, which Ash delightedly picked up and then promptly dropped.
As Jarvis explained numerous times, some experts distinguish between tantrums and meltdowns. Neither was really a clinical term, but many behaviorists liked to describe a tantrum as somewhat a willful action of how a child chooses to express their feelings. A melt down purely emotionally driven and not at all controlled, the child isn’t choosing to scream and drum their heels on the ground to get their way, it just happens.
Ash had a meltdown.
“But it broke,” Ash cried completely beside himself, failing and wailing and having a fit.
“Well, yeah. Cookies are kinda fragile that way, Sport. And if you drop them, well, they break.” Tony could have pointed out cookie fragility was behind the phrase that’s the way the cookie crumbles, but he restrained himself. Instead he just hauled his son up and attempted to sooth him. “Look, kiddo, this isn’t the end of the world, we’ll ring the kitchen and get you another cookie. Okay?”
Seemed logical to Tony, but not apparently to the pride of his house. .
“Noooooo! I want this cookie. Fix it daddy, fix it!”
Tony did not sigh. Tony had three doctorate degrees, however none of them even touched on the topic of repairing broken cookies.
“Little dude. Daddy doesn’t do baked goods. Now if you want something welded, then I am your parent. But baking? No can do.”
While Tony was being completely honest with the kid, something he and Loki were both on board with, it sadly was not what the munchkin wanted to hear. As witnessed by the fresh wave of tears and ‘stuff’ wetting the front of his shirt.
It was however Ash sliding down onto the floor to curl up on his knees and sob that kicked Tony’s problem solving abilities into high gear.
Ash was old enough to know that if Tony was tapping on his phone there was a good possibility that he was giving instructions to Jarvis. Fortunately however for Tony, Asgardians were prone to gesturing more than the ethnic group of your choice that ate a lot of Pizza, and while Ash was not familiar with sign language, Jarvis was.
Years and years ago, as a protective measure Tony had been taught ALS. Apparently this was so he and Jarvis, the original one, could communicate secretly in the event of abduction. Which was probably a good idea, but what Jarvis normally used it for was to communicate with Tony behind Howard’s back. Little things like, ‘You might as well own up young Sir, your father has proof.’ Or ‘Please stay calm Tony, I have notified your mother, she is arranging a distraction.’
At any rate, when Tony’s phone pinged, he said, “You know what? Let’s look at your cookie again. Maybe daddy can fix it.” Helping a sniffling Ash to his feet, he took him and the broken cookie over to one of the large windows so he could look at the cookie in a better light.
And to occupy the child as the palace staff used their super-secret ninja stealth moves to put a fresh cookie in a decorative metal box on the mantle. Tony’s plan of course was to put the broken cookie in the box, do a Loki mumbo-jumbo hand wave and then magically pull out the repaired, ie replaced cookie.
It was a good plan, and it might have worked, if only Loki hadn’t arrived before the replacement cookie did.
“Tony? I thought mother said you were putting Ash down for a nap?”
Tony was so busted. Rather than a napping child who would shortly wake in a sunny mood, he was currently in the possession of an overtired, tear and chocolate streaked child.
Rather than run and greet his mother like he normally would, Ash, too worn out by his meltdown, drooped at Tony's side.
“Yeah. Well,” Tony shrugged, trying for nonchalant, “We were gonna take a nap. But we got coloring, and then the next thing you know the world is coming to an end because Ash’s cookie broke.”
Loki looked at him for a good hour and a half. Okay, fine, it was maybe a minute and a half in real time , but in why did I marry this idiot time, it was subjectively well over an hour
“Indeed. Perhaps we need to see what can be done about that, yes?”
The offending cookie bits were placed back on their plate, and then with a hand on each of his shoulders, Loki told Ask to touch the plate and concentrate on making the cookie one-piece again. As Ash concentrated Loki let a tiny bit of green magic trickle down through the child’s finger tips until the plate glowed a bit. And the cookie parts fused together.
Ash picked up the cookie which was indeed in one piece and frowned. Partially from being carried around by a cranky toddler and partially from being rejoined the cookie was no longer perfect.
“But… it doesn’t look right Móðir.”
“And it almost never will. And that my son is lesson one, when something breaks, even if you can put it back together, it most likely will never be the same.”
Ash scowled at the cookie, until Loki gently shook his shoulders. “Do you remember the pretty glass in Móðir’s bathroom? The one with the gold veins, that you aren’t allowed to touch? That used to be broken, but Daddy fixed that for me back when we were courting. While it might not be perfect, you always thought it was pretty, yes?”
Ash transferred his gaze from the offending cookie, to his mother “Yessss.” And okay, from the way Ash strung out his reply, it wasn’t hard to follow his thoughts on a mangle yet repaired cooking never being the equal of Loki’s Kintsugi tumbler.
Loki kissed the top of his head, “And that is lesson number two. Things don’t always have to be perfect to be precious. Now, eat your cookie, before it breaks again.”