Natalya fussed with the food on her plate. Her head lay against her fist, propped up by her elbow on the gleaming golden table. Her fork clinked against the plate in front of her—filled with delicacies that were worthy of the palace she stayed in by the grace of Loki.
She huffed and tossed her fork on the table and leaned her forehead on the edge of the table. The small girl was truly hungry, but she didn't feel like eating—she hadn't felt like doing anything at all lately. Even her time with Avery wasn't as fun as it had been since before her sister's attack.
Heavy boot-falls resounded through the echoing dining hall, though Natalya was too preoccupied with the strange and fascinating mechanics of her fingers to pay attention.
She twiddled them, fiddled them, piddled them and stopped when she felt strong, slow breathing tickling the loose strands of hair on her neck.
Her eyes widened.
“What are you doing, Natayla?” the deep, low voice whispered in her ear.
She turned around and saw Loki standing behind her with a mischievous smile. Her look of guiltiness suddenly turned into a pout. “I don't want to eat!” She threw her arms to fold and turned from him.
Loki raised an eyebrow, somewhat shocked at the girl's outburst—though not really. One would expect her to be unruly though everything she'd endured. It was truly a form of rebellion: something he could recognise a realm away.
He sighed and pulled out a chair next to her, and sat in it. “And why ever not, little one? Your sister would want you to eat!” The girl hadn't really eaten anything the past few days, and he feared both of the sisters would be gravely ill.
“No!” she huffed and turned her face from him more. “I'm not going to!” she protested and pushed away the plate.
Loki rolled his eyes and took up the fork, then started to poke the food with it. “I want you to eat, Natalya. It is important to me as well that you are healthy and fed.”
“I don't care!” she pomped.
Loki became slightly offended, and realise the girl wasn't going to stop. “Alright then,” he sighed and set the fork down again. “I suppose, if you will not eat your dinner, then I will have to see that there are consequences.”
“No!” she whined again.
“Well then, eat!”
“Nooo!” she squealed and shoved the plate across the table.
“That's that, then,” Loki stood and took her hand with a taught grip. “Come with me.”
She fussed and cried and tried to pull her hand from his, but he was too strong. So, she planted her feet on the ground until he was practically dragging them across the floor.
“Your sister will not like this,” he grumbled and picked her up and put her across his shoulder with his arm holding her knees, even though she tried to fight against him.
“Noooooo...” she cried and wailed, her body slung and dangled over him.
They approached her room where he opened the door, and walked to her bed.
“Now,” he started as he sat her on it. “You will remain here until further notice. There will be nothing for you to play with, and when I come back, you will eat your dinner.” He looked down at the red and watered eyes, so sad and broken. He hated having to punish her, but he knew her sister wasn't able to—and in all truth, he was the closest thing either of them had to a father. It made him proud, but in situations where the big eyes and quivered lips and red, puffy cheeks and noses ruled out, it made his heart melt with guilt.
“Do you understand?” he called with a cross brow and firm lips.
She nodded and sniffled, hesitantly. “Wait!” She stopped him.
He raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”
She clutched her little doll. “What about Avery? Please, I want Avery!!” she cried into the doll's little dress.
He felt even worse, and gave into the girl with a heavy sigh. “Fine, you may keep Avery, but nothing else.” He watched her bury herself in her friend. “Are we clear now?”
A muffled 'Yes' could be heard.
“Good. I will be back,” said Loki as he turned back to the door. “And I want no more of this nonsense!” He wagged his finger as he scolded, with his back to her.
“Y—Yes, L—Loki,” she sniffled.
Loki walked out of her room and closed the door behind him. He leaned there for a while. He'd never scolded or put a child in a time-out before, it seemed to hurt whatever heart he had left. He especially felt horrible for having to do so to such a small and persecuted little girl. But...
He sighed as he heard Natalya's little whispers to her only friend: Avery.
He supposed that's the way life was...
