Daughter Dearest

eighteen

Venus's questions ended up being answered rather quickly once she began complaining about how her week had been shit and she needed some answers somewhere, somehow. 

How had they gotten there? 
Tony called in an old favor and a sorcerer sent them there, telling him what Venus needed to do to get them back to the living world. 

Why couldn't the sorcerer just take all of them back?
He deactivated the number once Tony called in the favor, so now it was up to Venus to learn an entirely new to her type of magic that would determine whether or not she'd ever see earth or asgard again. 

If everyone was there, then who would save the world until she could open up a portal between realms?
The government could figure it out if it was bad enough.

She decided to not ask her brothers if Odin knew of anyone called Leviathan, figuring it was more of a question to ask Lucifer when he inevitably figured out that she had returned from heaven. 

If anyone had to know, it was him, right? 

When dinner time eventually rolled around and Venus had only seen four inhabitants of the hotel, she removed herself from the high stakes game of Uno that had spontaneously begun soon after the questioning. 

“I'll be back.” She whispered to Sam before getting up and going into the kitchen. 

She warmed up some food from the night before last, separating it into two portions before going up to the top floor where Charlie's and Vaggie's room was. 

When Venus arrived, Vaggie was sitting outside the door, knees drawn into her chest with a frown plastered on her face. 
She handed down one plate and the demoted angel took it, glancing up at the Asgardian Princess. 

“Thanks.” She muttered. 

“It's no issue. . . Have the two of you spoken since last evening?” Venus questioned quietly. It was obvious what she was asking: have the two of you spoken about the whole angel thing?

Vaggie shook her head.
Venus sighed. 

“She won't let me in and she won't come out of the room. . . She needs space.”

“Yes, but she needs to eat as well. She may technically be fine going days without eating, however, I won't allow it.” Venus replied, reaching her nown free hand out to knock on the door, the second plate still in the other. 

“Charlie, Honning, may I come in? I've sent Vaggie downstairs to mingle with some guests.” Venus sent her a look that very clearly said ‘stay silent’.

The silence was deafening, yet at the sound of the door unlocking, Venus took that as her invitation to enter the room. 

It was much larger than the others, which came as no real shock to her, but even with the curtains drawn over the large window casting almost complete darkness, she could tell. 

Closing and locking the door behind her, she slowly approached the lump on the left side of the bed that she could only assume was Charlie huddled within the blankets. A sniffle grabbed her attention in the silence and she felt a tug on her heartstrings. 

Setting the plate on the nightstand, Venus sat on the edge of the bed and looked at Charlie. “Oh, Honning. . .” She muttered, placing a comforting hand on Charlie's covered arm. 

“We failed.” Charlie said without prompting. Her voice was raw and lacked the constant cheerfulness that everyone in the hotel had grown accustomed to.

A frown set itself on Venus's face before she questioned the Princess. “What makes you think that?” 

Charlie stayed silent for a minute, aside from the occasional sniffle that escaped. When her eyes met Venus's, she became overwhelmed with emotion and sat up, throwing her arms around the Asgardian Princess.  

Venus didn't hesitate to reciprocate the embrace, holding the sobbing Hellborn in her arms, running her slender fingers through her hair calmingly. 

She mumbled words of comfort in Asgardian, like Frigga would do for her whenever she was upset. 

When Charlie calmed down and didn't elaborate or attempt to remove herself from Venus's arms, she spoke again, clearer than before. 

“We may have lost the battle, Charlie, but not the war. . . I swear upon my position in the Asgardian royal family that my brothers and I will fight.” 

Charlie pulled back, her hands falling into Venus's hold. “I'm scared.” She admitted in a near whisper. 

“I understand. . . And that's alright.” Venus squeezed both of Charlie's hands before offering a comforting smile. “You needn't worry your pretty little head about the logistics for now. . . You've had a long twenty-four hours and I'm not leaving until you eat at least half of this plate.” 

Venus's eyes drifted to the plate that sat on the nightstand, untouched. Steam was just barely coming off of it, but at least there was some sign of it being warm still. 

Charlie's hands slipped out of hers to reach for the plate of leftovers. None of them were exactly sure what it had been, however, Sir Pentious had cooked it and it was rather tasty. 

The two sat in silence as Charlie managed to eat the whole thing in the span of ten minutes. It wasn't a very large portion, but it was food going into her stomach nonetheless, and that was good enough for Venus. 

★†★

“Niffty, how quickly do you think you could get Thirteen rooms ready?” Venus questioned the small demon upon finding her. 

“When do you need them?” She countered with a glint in her eye.

Venus hummed, replying. “Preferably before midnight.” Anyone could glance at the clock and tell that the time was about four hours away. 

The little demon immediately scurried off to deal with the room situation, effectively leaving Loki alone. 

A minute later, Venus walked into the lobby to find a sight she never expected to see, but should've figured would happen sooner or later. 

Peter, Steve, Bucky, and Angel Dust all sitting around the coffee table as Angel animatedly recounted his life in Hell, with a drink in one of his hands. 

Sir Pentious, Loki, and Thor discussing unique battle techniques. 

Natasha, Vaggie, Tony, and Husk at the bar having a hushed conversation that couldn't be heard over the commotion that was the Maximoff twins and Clint arguing over how the TV worked while Vision stood by and watched as if it were an interesting tennis match. 

Bruce was eagerly attempting to understand the concept of Hell as a physical form, rather than a form of psychological torture in the afterlife — at least that was what he told Venus when she asked him. 

Before she could sit down and take a breather, Alastor appeared from the shadows. 

“Ah! Good evening Venus!” His smile seemed strained as he entered her personal space to greet her. 

“Good evening, Alastor. . . How was your day? Tear apart any souls?” She questioned with a smile of her own, taking a step back. 

“It was delightful! Unfortunately no soul crossed me today, but the day isn't over yet.” He hummed. 

“Although it does seem like a certain little goddess has found herself in the possession of a rather powerful soul. Good job.” 

Alastor patted her head in a condescending manner before turning on his heel and disappearing into the shadows once more, completely ignoring the assembled band of superheroes in the lobby of the hotel he was supposed to be helping run.