Loki learned to read much sooner than his older brother. He remembered perfectly the day, when his mother brought a first book to their chamber. It was rather small, with colourful illustrations she painted by herself. Thor got bored with it after about half an hour. A short, wooden sword from Odin must have been far more interesting for him because he's been brandishing with it all over the place. Loki, however, was sitting on her lap listening agape how these weird characters were turning into words in her mouth, and these words into a tale – the story about a beautiful, elvish princess and an asgardian warrior who defeated a fiery beast from Muspelheim to win her hand in marriage.
It didn't take him long to understand what letters and reading were. Many weeks later he took aback the queen, who had come to tell them a bed time story, just as she's been doing every evening. He brought a book and, a little inexpertly though very proudly, read to her the whole, first page. The woman's laughter was the greatest prize for all the effort he put into learning how to read a fairly difficult text by himself. She corrected all the mistakes he'd made and since then, everytime before sleep, they've been reading together. There was nothing else that Loki would've ever loved more than this.
When the fetters fell, when they locked him up, he's been walking around the cell just as a wild animal. Irritated and sinister, ready to attack at any moment.
Shortly had he learned the daily routine. Waking up, he didn't know if it was a day or night, but there always was a meal waiting for him. Plain, unsophisticated dish was, for sure, far better than the one that has been served to the other prisoners. After few days of observations he got to know all of them and reflected that there was no match for him. Coarse cattle not even worth talking to. An ending of such day was a supper. Then the main lights were turning off, leaving the hall only with torches ignited. Silence was falling soon after. At that time he could lie on his bedding and ponder. Sleep was coming slowly, unwillingly just to be suddenly interrupted by the sound of fellow prisoners slurping a porrige and making other obscene, morning noises. Monotony suddenly became a boredom he couldn't escape from. The guards were standing still next to his cell indifferent to his malicious comments. The prisoners were avoiding his glance so affraid, that when he was about to speak they were turning their backs on him. He's been sitting in the corner trying to solve perplex equations, creating new spells and curses he didn't have anyone to try them on.
One evening, when he stopped on counting days spent in prison, an Einherjar serving in the castle appeared in front of his cell. He got near him as if the imprisoned man was a poisonous snake.
"Her majesty the queen sends you a gift." He said not even bothing to try hiding his disgust at the sight of the prisoner.
A small chest, he's been carrying under his coat, materialized near the Aesir and the warrior went away without uttering a word of goodbye.
Loki crouched down to examine the mother's gift. A chest's lid was adorned with Frigga's coat of arms – three stars cutting through a silver distaff encrusted with gold. He touched a convex emblem and smiled.
Inside the box he found dark green blanket made of soft wool, very much alike the one his mother made for him once, really long time ago. He pulled it away and started taking out leather bound books. He has examined every one of them carefully, touching their backs wth solemnity, browsing through the pages. The queen considered son's entertainment by choosing his favourite titles only. Magical and alchemical treaties. A bit of philosophy. The history of the Nine Realms and the Asgard's conquests.
Among the thick volumes he found something he didn't expect. Something he thought that he had lost a long time ago. A small book swathed in a soft leathered jacket without a title embossed. He opened it slowly. The first page was decorated with an intricate signature of his mother, so as with his trials of writing the letters. Crooked characters drawn with hand of a child trying so hard to equal the teacher's elegant handwriting.
He stopped himself from smiling, threw the volume off to the bottom of the chest and pulled it away firmly. Any fondness will control neither him nor his heart.
He has begun to read. Even if knew some of the books by heart, it didn't discourage him to get back to more interesting fragments.
Next few weeks he spent the same way – stubbornly ignoring the chest standing in the corner of the cell, so as the only item from Frigga's list he didn't even intend to touch. However, very often, his thoughts lead him to the box and to the childhood's treasure hidden inside of it. He had broken down after all. He has read every book the queen gave him and begun to bore reciting to his fellow prisoners bloody battles from the history of the Nine Realms out loud. A guard couldn't stand it any longer and told him to shut his mouth.
One night he decided. Just this once. Only few pages.
He didn't wait until the morning. Quietly took out the book from the chest and rolled himself up into a ball under the blanket. Before he summoned up his courage and opened it, he had been squeezing its cover for a while. Yellowed pages were blank. A very subtle tingling appeared on his neck right away after the magic from thin sheets contacted with his own. Under his fingertips handwritten runes started to show up and composed a text. Lines and colours were slowly converting into exqusite images.
The book was filled with fairy tales and stories from all the Nine Realms completed by Frigga exclusively for her sons. But it was Loki, who had noticed that all of them hid something more than a simple moral. Under one, visible text there was another, concealed. And, when read in the correct order, the illustrations were reshaping into rebuses. Then the ordinary fables were becoming sorcery lessons.
Being a small boy, Loki showed that trick to his mom for the first time. She grinned to him with the brightest smile in the world and started to teach him spells. That was their little secret, and the book became his most precious treasure. He's been sleeping with it under the pillow. And in the night, when he was frightened, touching the cold cover was enough to feel soothing presence of the queen, though she never came.
He also remembered the day, when Thor, jealous of mom's attention, threw their secret item into the hearth. Putting his health into jeopardy, Loki rescued beloved volume from the flames. After that, burns on his pale skin, for some reason, have been healing for weeks, but he never told on his brother. Maybe he should've done that and somtimes regreted he didn't. Back then he was quite a good boy, though.
In this one, particular thing, there were so many memories hidden. So many emotions. So many lost moments, he'll never be able to get back. So many sentiments and almost unhealthy attachment.
He looked through the book to the very last page and latched it quickly. Whatever message mother wanted to pass on by giving such an old token, won't influence him now, when he had been crossed out by everyone. It was too late for any redemption.
He's been considering destroying this evidence of better times. Rip it to shreds, burn, and drown ashes in the water.
Eventually, he had placed the book under his pillow and fell asleep squeezing it firmly with his fingers.