Adventures in an alternate dimension Book 2

Chapter 19 - Embellished Forest Adventures

Ashlynn's POV

Rain lashed against the windows of the small cabin in Forks, a steady rhythm that had become the soundtrack to our lives here. Curled up on the couch with a mug of steaming tea, I watched the scene unfold before me.

Thor, my ever-patient husband, sat on the floor across from my niece, Olivia. Olivia, an eight-year-old ball of sunshine transplanted from the bustling city to the quiet woods, was visiting for the summer. Thor, a literal god from Asgard, was surprisingly adept at handling her boundless energy. Most of the time.

Right now, they were sprawled on a quilt spread across the living room floor, surrounded by a mess of building blocks. Thor, ever the teacher, was showing Olivia how to build a magnificent Asgardian castle, complete with towering spires and hidden chambers.

"And this," Thor boomed, his voice surprisingly gentle as he picked up a particularly large block, "is the Odinsdottir wing."

Olivia, perched on her knees, regarded the block with wide, curious eyes. "Odinsdottir? Is that like Odin's daughter?"

Thor chuckled, a sound that rumbled through his chest. "Indeed it is. Just like you are Ashlynn's niece."

"So, am I an Ashlynn-niece?" Olivia scrunched up her nose, clearly unimpressed by the term.

"Well, no," Thor said, a playful glint in his eyes. "In Asgard, we have a special word for me. An uncle."

"An uncle?" Olivia echoed, her brow furrowing.

"Yes," Thor said, placing the block carefully onto the growing structure. "But not just any uncle. A..." he paused dramatically, "Unkie!"

The word burst out of him, accompanied by a flourish of his hand. Olivia's eyes widened, then crinkled at the corners. A giggle escaped her lips, quickly morphing into full-blown belly laughter.

"Unkie?" she shrieked, doubling over. "Uncle Thor is an Unkie?"

Thor, momentarily taken aback, simply stared at her, his blonde braid bouncing slightly.

Olivia's laughter was infectious, and soon I found myself chuckling along. The absurdity of the word, the way Thor had pronounced it with such gravitas, it was impossible not to find it funny.

"Oh, Auntie Ashlynn," Olivia wheezed, wiping tears from her eyes. "Can I call Uncle Thor, Unkie Thor?"

"Sure," I said, suppressing a smile. "If he doesn't mind."

I darted a glance at Thor, who was now sporting a resigned expression. "Of course you can call me Unkie Thor," he rumbled, though a hint of amusement lurked in his voice.

That was all the encouragement Olivia needed. From that moment on, the word "Unkie" became her war cry. "Unkie Thor, can we play tag?" "Unkie Thor, look at my cool bug!" "Unkie Thor, Unkie Thor, Unkie Thor!" It echoed through the cabin, bouncing off the rain-slicked windows.

At first, Thor tried to correct her, a gentle, "It's Uncle, Olivia," escaping his lips every now and then. But Olivia, with the relentless persistence of a child, clung to "Unkie."

By the third day, I swear I saw a flicker of annoyance cross Thor's face when Olivia, with a mischievous glint in her eye, addressed him as "Unkie." But mostly, he just seemed to accept his fate, a faint smile playing on his lips whenever she used the word.

As for me, I found myself secretly enjoying the chaos Olivia brought. The quiet humdrum of our lives in Forks had been disrupted, replaced by the joyous shrieks of a child and the booming laughter of a literal god trying (and failing) to maintain his dignity in the face of an eight-year-old's relentless teasing.