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Loki could remember a lot from his childhood, but try as he might, he could not conjure a face or place from before the orphanage.
He could, however, remember every child who had bullied him when he was younger. It had started out harmless, as most bullying does, with little pranks and muttered insults. It didn’t matter that he was most likely an orphan of the war; no parents would want to raise a runt. A runt like him was useless, would always be useless.
For two centuries, he could remember nearly constant bullying. And he could remember when they all ate at the palace, and was grateful that the formality stalled the torment. In knowing peace, he vowed he would make himself worthy of it in the future.
It all changed a few decades later. Many of the older wards had left to train permanently with the crown prince. The order and discipline they had brought to the institution were lacking. For the most part, they had kept the others from physically harming Loki, but now the younger wards had grown restless. They had cornered him on the small training grounds behind the building. It started with the familiar taunts, but quickly escalated to punches and kicks. Loki summoned ice to defend himself, but he was no match for the others who towered above him.
He could feel a tear roll down his cheek as he rolled himself into fetal position to protect himself against the brunt of the beating. He could feel ice slice against his back, and cool blood poor onto the hard ground beneath him. For the first time in his life, Loki truly feared for his life.
He felt a heat build within him, and Loki wondered if this is what it felt like to die. The heat continued to expand as Loki whimpered in pain. He felt a particularly hard kick against his back and then everything seemed to erupt.
The taunting had quieted and the beating had stopped. Tentatively, Loki raised his head. His tormentors were picking themselves off the ground in a circle around him. To his surprise, they didn’t even look angry.
“He’s got magic!” The oldest exclaimed, his jaw hanging open in shock.
Loki’s brows furrowed. Magic? He had heard of other realms having mages who were valued above others for their abilities with the elements, but it was rare in Jotunheim, let alone in a runt. He flinched as the others circled around him again.
To his surprise, they lifted him up carefully and carried him inside. Many murmured apologies as others rushed forward with healing stones and ointment. It would be a few weeks until he was completely well again, but at least the pain was subsiding.
At supper that night, Loki was moved forward. Instead of sitting among the newborns, he was invited to sit among the other wards his age. Word of his powers had spread throughout the house, and even Karha seemed to take notice.
“If there is anything I can do to help, let me know, son,” he told Loki before going to sit at the head of the table.
---
Loki studied what he could of magic from tomes in the house and from what he could get through trade. He practiced day and night, learning small movement spells and perfecting them by pulling pranks on the others.
Soon he realized that he would not be able to further his education limited as he was. He learned that wards could petition the king to study, but were granted only if they could prove themselves. He threw himself into his studies with a new vigor. He would have to find something to prove himself worthy, but what?
Loki learned a lot the first time he visited the petition hearings. He watched the king’s reactions with a careful eye, hoping to determine what might gain him favor. Laufey responded more positively to those who were clear and decisive, and more negatively to those who were arrogant.
He slipped away to return home in time for supper, but his mind was still reeling. He continued to sneak away to hearings when he had time to spare, learning better how to present himself. Magic had become something that was his. It was redemption, and it was something that, should his birth parents be alive and ever learn of his accomplishments, might make them regret giving up their runt child.
---
It wasn’t until after the second time Laufey invited the wards for dinner that he knew how he would win the kings favor. He had cast a spell that would allow him to hear conversations throughout the hall. The king had asked about him and knew that he had skill with Seidr. Their conversation continued, and Loki realized that with the lost element of surprise, his skill would have to be considerable, and visible enough to get the public on his side.
He glanced around the hall, desperate for an idea. He would be old enough to petition for his own place soon enough, and he wished to be ready. He noticed the torches alight along the walls. Fire was a rarity in the cold of Jotunheim, and in all of the books he had managed to find it was the hardest element for Jotnars to master. It would certainly be a spectacle for a Jotnar runt to wield it with no formal training.
Loki stopped attending the petition hearings. His time was better spent in the frost forested on the outskirts of Utgard, practicing summoning fire without the other wards bothering him. It took him over half a century to know enough about the spell to feel comfortable performing it.
The first time he was able to summon fire, he nearly lost control as he watched it dance across his skin.
The second time he nearly burnt the forest down.
The third time he allowed it to dance between his fingers, and triumphant smirk working its way across his face.
---
He did little things for the other wards in return for small trinkets, which he took and traded for fabric at the market. He had another ward, Adini, sow them into fine garments for him, far nicer than anything else he’d ever owned. Loki promised him that if he ever had influence with the king he would give him a good word before Adini petitioned.
He stood in front of the only mirror in the hour and practiced what he would say for hours every day, continuing to practice with flame in the dead of night. Slowly, he learned to form shapes with the fire.
The day he left, the other wards wished him luck, and Karha gave him an encouraging slap on the back. With a deep breath, he left the only home he had ever known behind.
---
His heart pounded as he waited in line. He restrained his inclination to pace and stood stock-still. The line moved slowly, but soon enough Loki was at the front, kneeling in front of his king. He stood slowly at Laufey’s gesture.
“I have come to petition sponsorship to continue my studies, Laufeyking,” he said succinctly, as he had practiced. He bit his tongue to keep from licking his lips nervously.
He did not have long to wait for a response. “What kind of sponsorship?” asked the king. Loki’s mask hid a smile. All of his afternoons spent watching the hearings had prepared him well, and things were going exactly as he had expected them to go.
“Seidr,” he said, raising his hand and carefully summoning fire. It would not do for him to get cocky and make a mistake. He watched as the king reacted. Surprise and the beginnings of an emotion he had not seen among the other petitioners. Unsure if that was a good sign, he shaped the fire into a copy of himself and had it walk around them. He felt his control slipping allowed the fire to dissipate. He could only hope it would be enough.
Laufey responded more quickly than he expected. “What is your name, young sorcerer?”
“Loki Karhason,” he answered quickly. He hid a wince at his wavering voice, realizing he should not have used so much energy in his display.
“I will grant your petition, Loki Karhason.” A wave of relief ran through Loki. He would get to study true Seidr, and would no more be forced to study mere party tricks. He waited as Laufey spoke to a guard. “We will discuss your situation further when I am finished,” he explained.
Loki was still overcome with gratitude, and knelt once more. “Thank you, Laufeyking,” he said, standing to follow the guard through the palace. The guard led him to a room furnished with ice sculptures and fur. He waited patiently, running through different scenarios.
What seemed like decades later he heard Laufey enter, and he rose to greet him.
“There is no need for that here,” the king told him, and he nodded in understanding, returning to his seat. He waited for Laufey to give him instruction. He had no idea how this part of the process would work. “You will stay in the palace while you study, and you will be granted full access to the library and training grounds, as well as the kitchens,” he paused. “I will require progress checks at the end of each year. If you continue to improve, I have great plans for you.”
Loki found nothing outrageous in the king’s terms and nodded eagerly. “I am grateful for the opportunity, Laufeyking. I will not let you down.”
Laufey dismissed him, and a guard took him to his new chambers. They were much bigger than his at the orphanage were, and he hoped he would grow used to their size.
Tomorrow he would begin his studies. Tomorrow he would begin to prove he was worthy.