Norse Code: Thor's Daughter

Chapter Eight

It was a week and a half after the accident that I actually got out of the hospital bed and started roaming the halls.  I made it down to the cafeteria and had all my meals with everyone else and even managed to find my backpack of stuff that had been saved from the encounter with Loki and his followers.  That was one thing that bothered me, Loki.  At my request, I had multiple Norse mythology books in my new apartment here at shield and I spent many days and nights reading them while I had been bed ridden and everyone else was too busy to entertain me.  Everything I had read obviously pointed out Loki as the number one villain, but somehow I didn’t feel that way.  Don't get me wrong, I had in no way suddenly developed Stockholm’s syndrome, but Loki was my uncle and by definition and that made him family, and if growing up in an orphanage had taught me one thing, it was you don’t take family for granted. 

Another week after I started roaming around SHIELD my father and his entourage finally agreed to start training, and I’ve never been more excited in my life.  As a teenager in Oklahoma, I was fairly solitary.  I prefered to stay home and read rather than go outside and exercise, except for shooting my bow, that is.  But here, it was different.  I had a purpose for working out and learning fighting skills.  It wasn’t just endless laps around the block because some kid at school had called me fat, it was for my own protection, and more importantly, the protection of my newfound family around me.  I started out with stamina, running on the treadmill and even around the grounds, then it turned to the more exciting stuff: weapons.  The bow came first, since that was what I was more familiar with. Hawkeye volunteered to be my teacher and adjusted my technique so I could shoot the seeminlgly plain recurve bow that actually had lots of nifty little features that I learned about.  All the while my father stood close by, always proud of what I had done.