Child of mischief
I remembered the day all to clearly, it was when I got to hold my new born son, swaddled in blue cloth, in my arms for the first time on a cold December day. He was almost an exact copy of his mother, with her earth brown hair and matching eyes that already held a gleam of mischief.
Sadly his mother died giving birth, something that was not uncommon in this day and age, but what pained me the most was that I could not take him to Asgard with me for he has his mothers human blood.
I had been walking around the outskirts of a village called Burgess, using my magic to make us both go unseen. I came across a married couple that was telling their friends how much they wanted a child and followed them back to where they were living.
They both had brown hair and eyes, so my son, whom his mother had named him Jack with her dying breath, would not question his origins for some years if he stayed with them.
When they entered their house, I made up my mind and made a basket appear out of thin air and put Jack down in it. The wooden bed cradled in one arm, I let him grasp my finger as I made my way to the couples door and laid the basket in front of it.
I looked down at him with sad green eyes, knowing this was probably the last time I would ever be able to physically see him. I would always watch over him though, from Asgard and help in any way I could.
I knocked on their door and quickly disappeared into the shadows, watching has the women picked him up and the man looked around, trying to find who he belongs to, but only seeing trees and snow.
"Honey, I think the gods have answered our prayers," the women said looking at her husband with hopeful eyes.
"I guess so," he said, a small smile appearing on his face.
"I wonder what his name is?"
"Jack," I whispered into the wind, channeling some magic along with it.
The women got a far away look on her face and said "Jack," looking back down to my son with warm eyes, "his name will be Jack."
They took my son inside out of the cold and into his new life, with his new family.
I returned back to Asgard and told no one of my son. Even though Odin is my father, for some reason I felt as if I didn't know what he would do if he found out about Jack.
I did as I said and watched Jack grow up and become a little trickster, much to my enjoyment. I watched him jumping around the house when he got a little sister and being comforted by his family when they told him he wasn't really their child like his sibling was. I laughed with him when he was able to pull off some the most ridiculous pranks, with a little bit of my help, that made me proud to call him my son.
But, like everything in the human world, the happiness couldn't last. I watched on with a bad feeling as his sister pulled him out the door on a cold December day and his mother telling them to be careful. I remember the dread I felt as I watched the two of them on the frozen pond that was cracking under their weight. I could recall how proud and amazed I was when he was able to stay calm and joke around to get his sister to safety. Finally, the heart breaking horror as I seen the ice break under Jack's weight and watching him go under the freezing cold water, blacking out as he did so. I remember how helpless I felt, watching my only son sink to the bottom, his lungs filling with water and his heart stopping. The worst part was that I could do nothing to help him, me, revered as an immortal god to the humans, could do nothing but watch his sons death.
Once I knew he was dead and that no help was coming for him, it got to painful to watch and I cut the link. What I didn't know back then was that if I hadn't have done that, a couple hours later I could have watched as Jack's Asgardian blood took over and saved him. I could have watched his hair turn as white as snow and his eyes turn crystal blue. I could have seen him rise up out of the water, have the moon tell him his name and Jack getting his powers over frost.
But, I wouldn't know any of that in till hundreds of years later when I had thought I had lost my family all over again and attacked New York.