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Thanks to his natural shapeshifting, Loki appeared to be a perfectly normal Asgardian boy. His coloring was a bit off from the norm, true, but it was impossible to tell which species his actual biology belonged to. However, shapeshifting could only do so much. There was a number of issues that set him apart from the people of Asgard, ones that were beyond anyone's control.
How Loki reacted to temperature was the biggest one. Cold didn't seem to register at all, for example. Loki didn't seem to be affected by it in any way – it didn't cause him to shiver, it didn't slow him down or give him any pause, and he never got sick from it. If he touched something immensely cold, close to freezing, his skin would simply revert to Jotunn blue for extra protection. Thankfully, everybody that didn't know the truth, Loki included, attributed that to his natural shapeshifting.
Heat, on the other hand, had a strong affect on him. During the summer months when the sun shone at its hottest, Loki overheated easily. He turned sluggish, his appetite all but disappeared, he barely spoke. It disturbed Sif – she knew this Loki as an energetic, bright child. The summer heat turned him into a shell. She tried to remember if this had been so also when they'd been young, but as much as she tried, she couldn't recall. Sif had very few memories of Loki in the summer months. It's possible he had been equally affected, and had chosen to hide away from the heat. Or his parents had.
Thor, ever the dutiful brother, had solved the heat problem with an easy solution. He had commissioned the Alfheim sorcerers, the best in the Nine Realms, to fashion an amulet for Loki. They had woven a cooling spell into a simple wrist band – when it touched skin, it lowered the body temperature down to the preset standard included in the spell. Technically, Loki could stand in the noon sun for hours and would not overheat. Loki, of course, had accepted with wrist band with great approval. He was quite eager to once again be unrestrained as he played with his friends.
Sif and Thor made sure to check the band was on his wrist each time before allowing him to leave the palace. He was just a child, after all, and children sometimes forgot even the important things. Especially if they were excited and eager to run off and play.
There was one more issue which was impossible to ignore. They had to be cautious of it always, even during visits to other realms.
*~*
As Sif entered the dining hall, she took note of the prepared table waiting for them. A good amount of food for a private feast – not too little for anyone to be left unsated and not too much to be wasteful.
Their host, Glorok, the King of the Dwarves, smiled in invitation. “Please, sit and enjoy.” He gestured at the table with a wave of his hand.
“We thank thee.” Thor inclined his head. “It looks like a grand feast. Such rich smells.”
“Only the best for our honored guests.” The King gestured towards the table again and they all took their seats. Both kings sat at the ends of the table, sitting opposite each other. Sif chose the seat on Thor's right, which a servant pulled out for her. She gave him a single nod and sank gracefully onto the chair. She resisted the urge to kick her legs to make the dress lay more naturally (whoever invented these blasted sheets of material masquerading as clothing should be executed). If she started kicking or fussing with it, it would just snag on the knives strapped to her calves. Then it'd rip and she's have to deal with that as well. Sif truly despised formal visits.
Loki slid into the seat next to her and folded his hands neatly in his lap. Sif glanced at him. She wondered if he hated these stiff formalities as much as she did. Thor, of course, reveled in the attention.
“Eat, my honored guests.” King Glorok smiled at them, thumping both fists against the table, as per dwarven custom.
Queen Radil, seated by his side, did the same. “Your pleasure is our pleasure.” She stated, her voice a pleasant rumble.
“We thank thee.” Thor answered. Before anyone could reach for the nearest plate, Sif kicked Thor under the table to remind him of a small detail they had to insist upon. “Ah yes. My good King, I have one question to ask before we begin the meal.”
“Ask, your Highness.”
“Do any of these fine dishes contain heating spices?” Thor asked, going straight to the point.
King Glorok shared a brief look with his wife. “Some do, I am certain.”
Thor didn't break eye contact with the King. “My brother, Prince Loki, cannot digest heating spices.”
They'd learned that the hard way – Loki had been ill for a week after one feast, and Eir had immediately known the cause. Apparently, Loki had had the same problem the first time around and had been just as sick. His immature Jotunn body couldn't handle certain herbs and spices, but apparently it had gotten better with time, due to constant exposure. And by that Eir meant being forced to eat the food that made him sick each time it appeared on the feast table. It certainly explained why Loki had been such a picky eater.
Thor had immediately decided that Loki would not suffer needlessly when the situation could be easily remedied, as with the cooling amulet. They'd spoken with the cooks and the servants about keeping certain foods from the table and away from Loki. They also informed Loki of his new dietary restrictions, taking care to explain why they were necessary, and voila. Loki no longer had to suffer through a week of unnecessary painful cramps and misery.
They did have to be vigilant during off-realm visits. Usually it wasn't much of a problem – Alfheim was famous for its mild cuisine and Vanaheim believed in giving children separate dishes that were easier to digest. Midgard firmly believed in a wide variety of different cuisines, and it was easy enough to pick something appropriate. Dishes from Jotunheim the ambassadors brought over were, of course, easiest for Loki. The other realms were somewhat of a problem. Muspelheim and Svartalvheim favored heating spices in their cuisine.
Thankfully, Loki knew not to eat anything without Thor's or Sif's permission.
The Dwarf King seemed taken aback by this information, lips pursing in thought. His Queen recovered first; she gestured one of the servants to step closer and whispered something into his ear. The servant bowed low, then silently walked around the table and stood behind Loki's chair.
“That is Aml, one of our most trusted servants.” The Queen explained, and Aml bowed deeply. “He will make certain that nothing containing heating spices appears on Prince Loki's plate.”
“We are thankful to you and your honorable husband.” Thor nodded to the King and Queen, then turned to Aml. “You have our gratitude as well.”
The servant bowed again.
“Excellent. Let us feast then.” King Glorok smiled politely and took the first cut of meat, as is the tradition in dwarven households. Thor took the second cut, per tradition more sizable than the first one. It signaled the start of the feast and Sif reached for the dish that had caught her eye the moment she'd sat down. It looked to be some kind of meat spheres in a thick white sauce. It had the aroma of almonds.
Throughout the feast, the servant obeyed his orders to the letter. Several times Sif heard him caution Loki respectfully, but firmly.
“Prince Loki, that dish is seasoned with heating spices.”
“Prince Loki, those meat-rolls have a kaopal core, that is an extremely potent heating spice.”
“Prince Loki, that beverage contains a heating spice extract.”
And so on. It was a good thing Sif and Thor had remembered to mention Loki's allergy. It was clear that the Dwarves favored spicy cuisine – Sif's mouth was burning as if set ablaze. She doubted she'd be able to feel her tongue any time soon.
Loki looked at her, mouth full of a dish that won't leave him ill to his very core, and smiled at her. Sif smiled back and decided to chew on some bread to alleviate the sting in her mouth. Unfortunately for her, the only bread on the table also contained heating spices. Damn it.