A/N: This is my 3rd fierrochase story (I am in too deep with this pairing), and it's heartening to see that I'm not the only one who ships 'em like fedex. Thank you all so much for your kind comments; they really mean a lot to me, and rest assured, I will continue writing about fierrochase for as long as I live. I hope you guys enjoy this story - reviews, favorites and follows are appreciated, as usual!

The trumpet of an angry elephant, audible even over the clatter of forks and knives scraping food off plates and a roomful of chattering einherjei, quickly causes a hush to fall over the vast crowd. All eyes fall onto a fuming Alex Fierro, who storms over to the table occupied by the Floor Nineteen, her eyes flashing. A quivering, child-sized bundle of pink trails along behind her, clutching onto a handful of Alex's forrest green button-up shirt.

"All right, who the –" Alex, apparently remembering the child at her side, trails off in time and catches herself. "Who did it?"

T.J trades a puzzled glance with Mallory and Half-Born. "Did what?"

"Who was the sorry sack of . . . Of potatoes who messed with Magnus?" Alex asks, making sure to raise her voice so that everyone is able to hear her.

"Sack of potatoes," Halfborn mutters under his breath, letting out a bark of laughter that echoes in the (mostly) silent room.

"Shut up," Alex snaps testily in response. "This is serious!"

"Could you please explain what you meant by that last sentence?" Half sarcastic and half serious, Mallory props her chin up with her hand. "Who did what to Magnus?"

T.J raises his hand, as though he's about to ask a teacher a question. "And who's that lost child tagging along with you?"

All eyes turn to said child, who whimpers unhappily at being the center of attention and buries a tousled head of blond hair into Alex's side. It's not hard to see the unhappiness and discomfort that seem to take tangible space and form in the space around them. Alex glares daggers at everyone staring, but speaks in a hushed whisper to the child at her hip, her tone soothing and light. Taking the hint, the einherjei present hastily turn their gazes down onto their plates.

"That," Alex says grimly, "Is Magnus. He woke up like this."

At the sound of his name, the lovely child raises his head. The boy is a toddler still, around five years of age. A soft, golden halo frames his round and cherubic face, with pale skin, apple-pink cheeks and full, upturned lips. The boy is dressed in a fuzzy pink sweater that slips off his shoulders and drags on the floor. It's enough to garner coos and sighs from the female ( and even some male ) einherjei. Magnus latches onto her waist with his tiny but manacle-strong arms, inching his way behind her.

Halfborn's mouth drops open, revealing a half-chewed mouthful of bread. "Magnus? That's our Magnus?"

Grey eyes, the colour of pale dove feathers, peek out at Halfborn from his place behind Alex, right before Magnus shakes his head frantically, and presses his face into Alex's stomach. Alex is quick to calm him down, holding him close as he burrows into her for comfort.

"How many other Magnuses do you know in this place?" Alex retorts in a quiet undertone, still keeping a protective arm around mini-Magnus.

Magnus trembles in her arms. "Awex," He whimpers, the first thing he's said since they've entered the dining room.

Her noxious bright green hair and generally dry sense of humour have not endeared her to children and adults alike ( not to mention her being transgender and gender fluid, which some particularly religious families have taken to mean that she'll be going to hell for her 'unnaturalness' ), but something warm and protective wells up in her chest at the sight of him clinging to her, trusting that she'll keep him safe from all the unfamiliar and possibly scary faces leering at him. And that's when Alex knows that she'll fight and fight to keep this child – Magnus – safe.

"Well, there's a Magnus down in Brooklyn who throws the best parties –"

"Does it look like I care about Magnus-In-Brooklyn?" Alex wants to scream. "My – Our – Magnus is a child! What are we going to do?"

An evil grin snakes it's way across Mallory's face. "My Magnus?"

"He's rather timid," T.J notes, interrupting Alex's-almost-meltdown. "How come he's so attached to you?"

Despite the worry pooling in her belly, a rare grin lights up Alex's face, and T.J thinks that it's easy to see why Magnus ( the older Magnus ) fell in love with her. "Magnus said my hair looked cool. And after I shape shifted a few times, he just . . . Started following me around."

"Like a duckling imprinting on the first thing it sees," Mallory mutters under her breath, to which Alex, with her eerily sharp hearing, says, "Shut up, Keen."

"Awex?" An unfamiliar voice, soft, and quaking with nerves, pipes up. "Awex angwy? Who make Awex angwy?"

Magnus looks around the room defiantly, squaring up his shoulders as though getting ready to fight with whatever – or whomever – is the cause of Alex's distress. A gasp reverberates around the room. There's something strangely endearing about the blond child with a lisp, even as he butchers Alex's name twice in four seconds. And Alex – she doesn't seem remotely angry as she bends to meet Magnus' eyes. It's a miracle, T.J thinks, watching Alex interact with mini-Magnus.

"No, Maggie, everything's okay. I'm not angry, see?" She flashes him a quick smile, which Magnus is quick to reciprocate with a shy upturn of his lips. "Angry people don't smile, right? Are you okay? Do you want something to eat?"

"'M okay," Magnus shakes his head when Alex offers to get him food.

Still keeping his arms wrapped firmly around Alex's denim-clad leg, Magnus resumes hiding behind her, resting a soft, pale face against the small of her back. Involuntarily, Alex feels the blood rush to her cheeks. She hopes her face isn't as red as it feels. Magnus has always been cute, but as a child, the cute factor has been taken up several notches, and now comes in the form of the child at her back.

"You should go see Blitzen and Hearthstone," Halfborn advises, once he stops guffawing at Alex's pink cheeks. It earns him a surprised look of approval from Mallory. "This has 'magic' written all over it."

"Right," Alex says, her voice saturated with relief. "Maybe Hearthstone can reverse this spell." With difficulty, Alex turns to address the child-sized bundle of pink behind her. "C'mon Magnus. Let's go for a walk. Didn't you say you wanted chocolate ice cream?"

She holds out her hand. Nodding enthusiastically, Magnus finally relinquishes his hold on her leg, clutching tightly at her long and slender fingers. It's like holding ice in her hand, Alex thinks, a pang in her chest when she realises that Magnus is so obviously scared by the strangers and the unfamiliar environment.

But then Magnus starts up a chant of, "Ice-cweam," and Alex nearly wilts in relief, even more so when he graces her with a sunny smile.

Maybe this whole 'turning-turning-into-a-kid' thing wouldn't be so bad after all.

Magnus, Alex learns, still has a love for falafel, even when he's regressed to the age of five years old. Dressed in a blue button down shirt with jeans ( made and donated by Blitzen's Best ) and a pair of Converse, Magnus chomps happily on the plate of falafel in front of him, occasionally glancing up to beam at Alex, who sits on the couch with Hearthstone, a cup of hot tea balanced on her lap, sending warm spirals of smoke up into the air. Blitzen tries to admonish Magnus for getting food down the front of his new clothes, but his voice is closer to a coo than the normal gruff tone that would have come from a scolding.

Not even the dwarf is immune to Magnus' charms, it seems.

What do you mean you can't turn him back to normal? Alex signs out clumsily. She tries not to look too upset for Magnus' sake, all too aware of the piercing grey eyes on her back. You have runes, you know magic, so why . . .

Can't. Powerful magic. Hearthstone signs slowly, mostly for Alex's benefit. Magnus has been teaching her ASL, but sometimes, his rapid-fire signing is hard to keep up with. Work of a God. Should wear off in a few days.

"Loki?" Alex demands, the name leaving a sour aftertaste in her mouth, as though she's swallowed a mouthful of curdled milk.

Hearthstone shakes his head. No. Looks like Sjöfn's doing.

"Sjöfn?" Alex repeats the name slowly. "I've never heard of her."

"She's a minor love Goddess," Blitzen explains, wiping Magnus' face clean with a soft wash cloth. "Usually she'll stay out of mortal affairs, but every once in a while, there'll be a couple that she absolutely has to meddle with." He aims a sideways glance at Alex. "Lucky all she did was turn Magnus into a child. Look at how Romeo and Juliet ended up. Not to mention Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt!"

Bet Angelina and Brad never turned into children.

"So all we have to do is wait?" Alex asks.

Hearthstone nods. Spell isn't permanent. Magnus will be fine. Besides, Blitzen likes small Magnus. Hearthstone points at Blitzen, who is currently showing a wide-eyed Magnus how he makes his best-selling chain mail high waisted skirt. Alex bites back her smile.

"There's an orphanage in the city with plenty of children for you two to adopt," Alex remarks, forgetting to sign and bursts out laughing when Hearthstone's cheeks flush – the elf might have been deaf, but he certainly wasn't inept at lip-reading.

A few days have passed since their meeting with Blitz and Hearthstone, and Magnus still hasn't turned back to normal. Alex wonders if she should hunt Sjöfn down, but she decides to give it a few more days. She'd be doing the world a disservice by ridding the world of a mini-Magnus, with his soft, pale skin, his tangle of bright blond hair, and his own sweet smell, like apples in a bowl.

In a surprisingly short amount of time, Magnus has managed to worm his way into the hearts of all the Einherjei at Hotel Valhalla. Sam supplied him daily with Amir's falafel and flying sessions, Halfborn Gunderson had knitted Magnus an assortment of stuffed toys and child-sized blankets, Mallory Keen was teaching him Gaelic, and T.J played war games with him. Even Jack had taken Magnus for a karaoke session with his friends from Hotel Valhalla's weapons vault.

"You're staring," Sam notes.

A young girl, around the age of twelve, had strolled past with a herd of her friends, only to see Magnus, and immediately stopped to pick him up for a kiss and a cuddle. The girl giggles with her friends in a way that sets Alex's teeth on edge. Magnus' dimples flash as he gifts the cooing girls with a shy smile that they are quick to gush over. Even though it's not directed at her, Alex feels the tense set to her shoulders relax. Her soul smiles.

Alex scoffs, her tone sharp and biting. "Am not." She keeps a careful eye on Magnus, ready to pluck him from the harpy's arms if Magnus seems the least bit uncomfortable.

Sam smiles knowingly. "Jealous?"

"Hardly."

Sam eyes her sister skeptically. "Uh-huh. That would explain why you look like you want to take your garotte and wrap it around Emily's throat."

"Is that her name?" Alex asks innocently, making a mental note to find her in combat later that afternoon.

Sam's only response is to roll her eyes.

He'd originally been content to be passed around from girl to girl, but as soon as he catches sight of Alex, standing a little way off with Sam, he kicks and struggles, eliciting a shocked squeal from the red-head holding onto him. Alex is quick to shoot a nasty glare at the girl, promising death by clay cutter if Magnus isn't let down immediately. His failing arms and legs nearly give the girl a black eye, and she unwillingly sets Magnus on his feet.

"Awex!" Magnus squeals, running over as fast as his short, chubby five-year old legs can manage. He holds onto her as though he has suction cups on his arms. "Awex!"

She's grown used to being called 'Awex', but there is nothing like the unadulterated joy of a child calling your name. Alex is liberal with her smiles when Magnus is involved. She gives him one. Sam muffles her laughter with the palm of her hand. Alex ignores her, and bends to ruffle Magnus' hair.

"Hey, Maggie," She says, right before the life is squeezed out of her in the form of Magnus throwing his arms enthusiastically around her neck. "Having fun?"

"Yeah!" He says, eyes bright and sparkling. "Jack can talk! An' we went to awt class! Jack's weaw good at sewing!"

"So I've noticed," Alex mutters, recalling the Bowling bag that Jack had worked on with Blitzen. Jack had regaled them with tales about how he and Frey had won numerous awards for their sewing, something that Alex would have been very happy not knowing. In a slightly louder voice, she asks, "So what'd you make, Maggie?"

"Dis!" Proudly, Magnus holds up a misshapen clay heart, crafted with clumsy, fumbling hands, painted a bright shade of red. "Jack hewped." He intones solemnly, pointing at the 'Alex' scratched into the surface of the clay before he presses it into Alex's hands with a shy smile.

He looks hopefully at Alex, his eyes full of childish innocence and pride. "Awex happy?"

( Unbeknownst to Magnus and Alex, Sam slips away unnoticed. )

Alex resists the urge to tear up, swallowing past the waterworks lump in her throat. Her old home may have been filled with all the material goods she could ever want, but if anything, it lacks the charm of her new suite at Hotel Valhalla. All the gadgets and money in the world, and she'd trade them all away, without a second thought, for a handmade present from the person she's fond of.

Willing her voice not to crack, Alex says slowly, "I love it."

And Magnus beams.

Deep into the wee hours of the night, Alex hears the door to her room creak open. She's always been a light sleeper, and crunch of footsteps on grass, quiet though they might be, along with snotty sniffles is enough to rouse her from her slumber.

Alex props herself up on one shoulder, her fingers already inching their way towards the golden wire under her pillow. "Who's there?"

Her only response is a teary whimper, one that she could have picked out from a crowd of thousands.

Quick to flick on her bedside lamp, Alex blinks as the sudden light blinds her. "Magnus?" She calls, swinging her legs over the side of her bed.

"Magnus?" Her anxiety skyrockets when he doesn't answer; if anything, the sound of her voice causes Magnus to dissolve into more heart-wrenching sobs that feel like a stab in the gut every time. "Where are you?"

On slightly shaky legs, Alex throws back her duvet and slips out of bed, the mattress springs creaking. She makes a beeline for her living room, but a tug at the edge of her shorts stops her. It's Magnus. His face is flushed. Tears clump his normally pale eyelashes together, making them dark. Magnus rubs his tears off his cheeks with the sleeve of his pyjamas. Alex used to do that too, before she stopped crying altogether.

"Magnus?" She swipes at his tears with harried, clumsy fingers, giving Magnus a quick-once over to ensure he's unhurt ( he is ). She isn't good at this sort of thing – comforting people, or picking tender words out of midair. But Alex tries. "What's wrong?"

A tear runs down Magnus' cheek. He shakes his head, clamping his lips firmly together.

Alex takes him by both shoulders and looks him in the face. "Please tell me what's wrong. I won't be mad, I promise."

"I wanna go home!" The words burst out of Magnus in a loud torrent, and he dissolves into tears once again. "I've wooked and wooked, but I can' find Mommy!"

Magnus buries his face in her neck and sobs loudly. Alex strokes her hands down Magnus' back, patting and whispering that it's okay. She holds Magnus and breathes in the smell of his skin, feels the tears falling hot on her skin. Inwardly, she's spitting out curses in every language she knows. This is what comes of trying to keep things from Magnus. This is what happens when, in all the excitement, they forget that Magnus is young, and scared, in an unfamiliar place with no familiar faces. This precious child, hurting.

"I'm so sorry, Magnus," Alex murmurs, as the sobs quiet and Magnus begins to draw in long hitching breaths. "You must have been scared."

Magnus rubs the tear trails from his face with his hand. "I wike Awex, but I wanna see Mommy, and Annabeth."

She has no idea who Annabeth is, only that Magnus is obviously attached to her. An aunt or a cousin maybe? Alex makes a mental note to ask Magnus when he turns back into an adult.

"I know, and I'm sorry, but you can't see them just yet." Alex tries to evade. "I'll see if I can call them to pick you up, okay?"

Liar, liar, pants on fire.

Magnus sniffs. His upper lip is caked with snot and his cheeks are streaked with saltwater tracks. "When's Mommy coming?"

How can she tell him that his Mother is dead?

( She doesn't. )

"Soon," Alex promises, guilt constricting her trachea. "Soon. She'll be here in the morning, I promise." She scoops him up. "Let's get you back to your room."

"Can I stay?" Magnus' voice trembles. His expression punches Alex in the gut. He expects rejection. "Pwease?"

"'Course," Alex quickly reassures him, tucking the blankets around both Magnus and herself in one smooth motion.

Alex turns out the light and crawls back into her cocoon of still-warm covers with a sigh. Magnus curls up in her arms, pushing, squirming and kicking until he's comfortable, touching as much of Alex as possible. Alex is sure her skin will be dotted with bruises when she wakes up tomorrow.

She's almost asleep again when Magnus says, "I wuv you Awex."

Not something she's anticipated hearing. In her startle, Alex nearly falls out of bed. She opens and closes her mouth soundlessly, and manages a quiet, "What?"

"I wuv you, Awex," Magnus says again, all traces of tears gone. "And I'w mawwy you when I gwow up."

A hot flush steals across her cheeks; she's glad for the cover of darkness, where no one can see her blush. "Well, then," Alex says at last, "You'll have to get me a ring."

"'Kay," Alex can hear the smile in Magnus' voice. His blond head of hair tickles the crook of her arm and his breathing evens out. "Night-night."

"'Night, Magnus," Alex murmurs quietly in response, right before her own eyes flutter shut.

"Mallory, this is a bad idea," T.J whispers behind her.

Mallory nearly drops her phone. Her last picture - a shot of Alex pressing her cheek against Magnus' bare chest - is a little blurry, but it's nothing a little editing can't fix.

She shoots him a glare over a freckled shoulder. "Idiot! You scared me!"

"Alex isn't going to be happy about those pictures."

"She's never happy, unless she's with Magnus. And there's no way I'm passing this chance up."

"Make it quick." T.J shooes her.

"Fine!" Exasperated, Mallory shoves her phone into her pocket. "Let's get out of here."

"Shouldn't we wake them up?" T.J nods at the intertwined couple before he closes the door with a soft snick.

"Nope," Mallory's smile is as devious as Loki's. "They'll find out . . . Eventually."

T.J and Mallory sneak back down the hallway, but they've barely made it five feet when a loud scream resonates from the room they've just left. Mallory doubles over with silent laughter, leaning on T.J for support.

"WHAT THE – WHY IN THE NAME OF THE GODS ARE YOU NAKED!?"

"Please tell me we didn't have sex – Ow, Alex, stop –"

"Get out!"