Chapter Text
Loki has always been better than Thor at doing nothing.
When they were very young and unable to sleep, Frigga would carry them both, entertaining Thor with her magic while Loki simply enjoyed the presence of his mother.
It might come as a surprise that the one who would be later known as the God of Mischief used to be praised as being such a well-behaved child by all his early teachers. A pleasure to teach to, such a quick learner, meticulous with everything he handled, with an eye for details. Writing runes at the age typical Aesir children were barely able to follow a story in a book read to them.
Every person who crossed the princes' path was amazed by Loki’s vast vocabulary and ability to hold an adult conversation, until the dreaded moment he asked a question or said something that was too dark or too advanced for a boy this age, and the older person would simply move away and spend the rest of the event ignoring the young prince completely, so as not to face the embarrassment of having been outsmarted by a kid. And that was why visitors always ended up gravitating around Thor, who behaved like a typical, good-natured boy and who never made any adult feel the inadequacy of their own limitations. And that is how the talkative Loki grew into preferring the company of books and plants to the one of people outside of his direct family.
When they were old enough to stay in the palace garden under the careful but distant supervision of guards, Thor would run after each butterfly, ask every visitor about his whereabouts, taste every flower, while Loki would usually simply sit beside a tree, not far from his brother.
You could tell a guard was new in the princes' escort when he was closely monitoring Thor, trying to prevent him from climbing a wall or creating a club from the branches of a thousand-year-old diplomatie tree. More seasoned chaperons learned that the dark-haired prince was the one to watch for, because having to explain to the All-Father how his children ended in a meadow surrounded by nervous cattle or in a spaceshift about to take off for Xandar was a lesson no right mind would forget.
While Thor quickly grew out of his wonder for Frigga's magic, ignoring the small fireworks she would cast for his 20s birthday to run and play warrior with his friends, a wooden sword at his hand, Loki was still fascinated, even more so than when he was an infant.
While Odin was watching his elder, smiling proudly, Loki shyly asked the All Mother :
"Mum ? When will I make lights like you ?"
Frigga smiled :
"You will have to work, my child. First, you will have to learn about seiðr. It is the source of my power, and something that we all have, though in different quantities, and greater difference even in our ability to control it. That's why some of us grow into warriors, others into sorcerers, or rulers, some are scholars. All of them, precious members of Asgard, just like merchants, farmers and craftsmen.
Once you know enough about seiðr, there is a training you have to follow, to recognize it within you, and to feel it in every aspect of Yggdrasil.
And once you have mastered all of this, you may learn how to use it. To grow plants. To help cows and sheeps in labor. To heal the wounded. Even to fight in battle.
_In battle ! Is it true father ? Did you use magic against the enemy of Asgard ? Against the frost giants ?"
Odin's body slightly tensed. To anyone but such a fine watcher as Loki, it might have been unnoticeable.
"This is a story for another time, my son, for I am tired and the night is too far advanced for such a long tale. Go play with Thor and his friends, and in the meantime, remember that a true and proud Aesir doesn't need tricks to fight his enemies."
The young boy's face darkened, but he obeyed his father nonetheless. His already smart moves were a match to Thor's inexhaustible energy, until he simply dropped his toy weapon and asked permission to go to bed.
The servant who woke the small prince the next morning found three heavy books on Loki's bed table : the sagas of Völsunga, Laxdæla and Grettis. All were tales of the most famous warrior-sorcerer of Asgard, and a golden bookmark was standing out of the middle of Grettis' story.