"In The Beginning"
Little Thor slept soundly in his chambers, thoughts of the war against the Frost Giants of Jötunhiem momentarily forgotten at a cause of his deep slumber.
In all honesty, Thor didn't quite yet understand the nature of the war; he only knew that his father was somewhere far away, walking the lands of another realm and fighting creatures Thor could only hope to imagine, for he was barely a child.
His sleeping world was one of peace; something he would forget as he grew up – the desire to fight and to fulfil his role as the firstborn of the All-Father overriding any other want. But, for now, he knew harmony – tucked away from the horror of the now-ending war.
Calming colours and perfect little stars filled the skies of his dreams; there was nothing Thor feared at that point in his childhood. Nothing in all of Asgard could threaten him – his parents knew all too well to safeguard him from the little danger there was.
A gentle shake woke him up as he looked up into the eyes of his mother. Her curled blonde hair sat perfectly atop her head – her blue eyes resonating the happiness it always did. Their features alarmingly alike in so many ways; you could tell Thor was his mother's son.
"Awake, my son." She smiled, flashing a set of brilliant white teeth. "Your father is crossing the Bifröst and returning home any minute now." Her voice was like a symphony; a song in spoken form. "Come, we can meet him on the bridge. I'm sure you'd like to welcome him home."
Thor rose from the bed, rubbed his eyes with balled fists – erasing the sleep that had consumed him for the night.
His little head making sense of the information he had been given. The war was over. Father was coming home. "Mother, who won?" He asked - his small, chirpy voice sounded like a morning bird, as he tried to throw on some acceptable clothes whilst hurrying to keep up with his mother, who had begun to retreat from the room.
"Now, child." She called behind her, already a good few metres on the other side of the bedroom door. "Would your father be coming home if he had not defeated the Frost Giants?"
Thor thought for a moment, "No, he would have been victorious." He paused in his wake, reflecting on his words. Then, when the answer finally struck him like the lightning he was so often associated with, he ran out of his golden-plated room, down the corridor and straight into his mother – hugging her legs with all his might. "He won! He won! Father won!"
A laugh like music itself erupted from between his mother's lips, ricocheting off of the walls and throughout the large hallway in which they stood. "Yes, child." She said softly, lifting him into her arms. "He did indeed win."
Thor wrapped his limbs tightly around his mother, unable to contain his excitement – a large smile of his own appearing on his face, as he let her carry him out of Odin's castle, towards the bridge where he would once again see his father - scarred and bloodied from war.
A crowd had formed before the rainbow bridge which led to the opening of the Bifröst. Dwellers of Asgard – hundreds of them rejoicing in the knowledge that the war against the Frost Giants was over and their King had prevailed.
Roars of "Odin! Odin!" filled the land far and wide as the group of Asgardian warriors emerged from within the golden sphere, which held the key to the Bifröst. Odin led the cluster of warriors, standing at the front of the large faction.
Thor's eyes lit up at the sight of his father. He did not care that one of his father's own eyes was hollowed out and bloody, nor did he take notice of the small child that Odin carried in his arms; his focus was his father and as he broke away from the protective arms of his mother, Thor ran straight at him – face alight with joy.
As the All-father's gaze found Thor, his seemingly impassive face broke out to match that of his son's.
Within seconds, the gap between them on the bridge was closed and Thor had slammed himself into the strong body of Odin.
"Father!" He exclaimed. "You're home!"
Lines of age and laughter appeared deep on the All-father's face. "Yes – I am home. I hope you have been well-behaved for your mother during my time away." False mockery tainted his words.
As they both walked the remaining length of the rainbow bridge, Thor finally noticed the bundle cradled in Odin's arms. "Have you brought us something home, Father?" Thor questioned; his brows furrowed as he pranced along on his tip-toes, trying to get a better look at what his father was holding.
Odin did not meet Thor's gaze. Instead, as they finally came to a stop – standing before Frigga – he handed the bundle over to Thor's mother.
She frowned at the little baby stirring in her arms before lifting her head and giving her husband a questioning look, to which he replied: "Be patient and all will be answered. Take him back to the castle, have him seen to."
Frigga nodded, compliant to her husband's wishes as she turned and retreated from the large crowd of people.
In the midst of everything, Thor had snatched a quick glance of the baby held in his mother's arms. There was a set of dark hair atop its head and it slept peacefully within the material it had been so hastily wrapped in. "Who is he, Father?" He spoke.
Odin looked down on his son, assessing him – although Thor was oblivious as to why. He placed his hand upon his son's shoulder, looking him directly in the eyes before speaking, "His name is Loki, and he is your little brother."
Thor, so young at the time, accepted the fact without any further doubt. He did not think that this baby -who had hair so dark, it could not be his parents' child - was in fact of the realm his father had only just left behind. He truly believed that this small creature, Loki, was his brother.