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Summary
Thor was born a boy and a witch. This made others perplexed, and wont to make comment that those two things typically did not go together, but as that both were true in his case—his moods had affected the weather starting with his first wail as a baby causing a sudden rain—he never knew what more to say about it. It was simply the truth. And thus his mother, Frigga, being a sensible woman and a witch herself, raised him as one.
It was no more than three years after Thor’s first broom ride when Loki showed up. He’d simply wandered through their front door one spring day (the door having been left open for the fine, warm air) skinny and dirty and with tears blurring his large, green eyes. Frigga had dropped to her knees before him, petting his greasy black hair and asking him if he was lost. Loki burst into tears at the question, and Frigga clutched the wisp of thing to her as he wailed; and Thor had known on some instinctual, unquestioning level that Loki was now and forever after his brother, as if before he’d simply been missing.