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Looking back, the first time Loki shapeshifted should’ve been a clue at his brother’s heritage. Despite being little more than a toddler at the time, Thor remembered the first time Loki shapeshifted with startling clarity.
It had been a particularly cold day on Asgard, with Frigga settling Thor down in front of a roaring fire with a handful of toys to stop the adventurous toddler from attempting to run through the cold halls of the palace.
Boring, in toddler Thor’s humble opinion. A much more interesting activity would be to go play with baby Loki, who he’d been told by his mother specifically to leave alone for his nap, and had been told multiple times that babies were too young to play anyway.
Undeterred by this, Thor abandoned his toy soldiers which he’d been dutifully playing with half-heartedly for an extremely long time (almost half an hour!) to search for his baby brother. Creeping out of the playroom, Thor slowly opened the adjoining door to the royal nursey, the whole room shrouded in darkness so that Loki could sleep.
“Loki?” He whispered into the darkness.
He slowly approached the cot, having learnt from prior experience that running up to the baby, his footsteps stomping on the ground only succeeded in making Loki cry as though Thor had screamed directly into his face. Praying to the Norns that the baby would not begin crying as soon as he laid his big green eyes on him, Thor peered through the slats of the cot, but what he saw was not a baby at all.
Where his baby brother should’ve been, was instead a bright white arctic fox.
For a moment, Thor could not breath as he stared at the fox, who appeared to be sleeping quite peacefully, curled up with its head resting on its tail.
And then he ran, sprinting from the royal nursery as fast as his legs could carry him, flying so fast past the two Einherjar that were posted outside of the princes’ rooms that by the time they reacted, Thor was rushing into his mother’s arms.
“Mother! Mother, it’s so horrible! I think a fox has eaten Loki!” He sobbed, tears streaming down his face.
He’d sworn the minute he’d first laid eyes on Loki that he would simply be the best big brother in all of Asgard. He’d become the most accomplished warrior in all the Nine Realms to protect his baby brother, and yet he’d allowed him to get devoured by a fox the minute he’d turned his back! How could he ever hope to be King of Asgard if he let Loki be eaten by a wolf before he was even out of infancy.
A kaleidoscope of emotions crossed his mother’s face when he turned to look up at her, but before he could say another word, she had scooped him up and was marching towards the royal nursery.
A fresh wave of tears hit Thor as he re-entered the nursery with his mother, sobbing apologies into the collar of his mother’s dress, his breath hitching as guilt constricted his lungs.
Yet, Frigga relaxed.
“Oh Thor, my darling. You have nothing to apologise for. This is Loki.” His mother smiled, crouching down next to the cot with Thor still in her arms so that they were eye level with the fox.
Thor blinked. He looked between his mother and the artic fox, who was now awake and staring at him with wide green eyes.
“Mother,” Thor began slowly, and as seriously as a toddler could. “That is a fox.”
Frigga laughed softly, wiping the tears that were trailing down Thor’s cheeks with her thumb.
“Darling, you know Loki has seidir. I believe your brother has managed to shapeshift.”
Thor looked at the fox again. Its shockingly white fur was the exact opposite of the smattering of dark hairs Loki had on his head. The eyes, however, the bright green eyes sparkling with intelligence, with curiosity, was all Loki.
“Can Loki play with me now that he’s a fox?”
Frigga laughed again, setting Thor down and gently scooping the fox cub out of the cot. Fox Loki yawned before nuzzling closer to his mother, his eyes slipping closed once more. Cradling Fox Loki close, Frigga motioned for Thor to follow her into the playroom, sitting down on the large sofa by the fire.
“He is a fox, but he is also still a baby, darling. Loki is still too young to play.” Frigga explained, stroking the fur on Loki’s head as the fox cub slept in her arms.
Thor nodded with the gravity he’d seen his father nod when a councillor gave him important information. If he was still to be the best big brother on Asgard, he needed to know how to look after Loki when he also happened to be a fox. Hesitantly, he copied his mother’s actions, lightly running his fingers through Loki’s fur.
“Why an arctic fox?” He questioned, “There are far more normal foxes on Asgard than arctic foxes.”
Again, Thor watched his mother’s face flitter through an array of emotions.
“I suspect he was cold.” She answered finally, not quite looking Thor in the eye.
Thor nodded again. That made sense.
“If I could shapeshift, I’d become a dragon.” He declared.
Frigga laughed, freeing one of her arms from cradling Loki, to bring Thor into the embrace.
“My dragon and my fox.” She smiled, pressing a kiss to her sons’ heads.
Thor swallowed back his tears as he recalled that memory. Even one of his earliest memories of Asgard, of his mother, of his brother and his powers, was now tarnished with the lies his parents had told them.