Loki, Thor, friends, family
Thor was thrilled, of course. He had a wooden sword, a hobby-horse on skids that he could still ride, and any number of toys; but he needed a purpose to his play. A helpless child to protect (Loki), a king to protect (Loki), a damsel in distress (also Loki), even a dragon to fight (Loki, again); this brother would be an excellent aide in his self-made dramas. Frigga encouraged some of these scenarios with a laugh, and tried to instill Thor with her most important message: You are his big brother. Protect Loki.
When Thor was seven, his formal education began: mornings in a school room with a dozen or so children of the same age, afternoons spent in early athletic training, then release into free activities until dark. He and Loki were inseparable, so Loki tagged along to his lessons (and picked up learning faster than anyone else), to his training (“Here, Prince, stay in the shade; you are not old enough for some of these moves yet” from Tyr, the weapons-master. Thor had a wooden sword, bigger every few months, but Loki must be kept amused with knives), to their afternoon adventures. Thor made new friends at school, including Volstagg Einarson, Fandral the kitchenboy (“But my father’s a Lord!”), and Sif Waves-Daughter, Heimdall’s young sister.
The two children came home from school one day; the teacher had been explaining where the various folk of the nine realms came from. They teased each other over dinner, until Frigga asked,
“So what is so funny, say?”
Elbows back and forth. Finally Thor said, “we learned how all the folk were made. Dwarves were maggots!”
“You shouldn’t tease any with that.” She sighed. “Besides, many beautiful and productive insects have babies who look like maggots.”
Odin looked at her, said in aside, “Let me handle this.” And to the children: “Loki, Thor: who a person becomes is not determined by who his ancestors were. Many brave fighters and skilled craftsman have been dwarves. Think of them, not maggots.”
Two solemn nods, then more giggling. “What now?” asked Odin.
Thor said, “The humans. They think they came from monkeys.”
“Well, monkeys are also clever, so perhaps…”
Loki spoke up. “The teacher said you could tell us the real story.”
“Oh, she did, did she?” Two more nods. “Would you like to hear the story?”
“Yes, please.”
“After dinner,” said one parent; and the other: “Finish your vegetables first.”
“Once upon a time,” Odin started.
“Were there humans then?” Loki interrupted.
“Hush and listen. My mother, Bestla, raised Jotuns. Two of them looked over me when I was small, and became my constant companions. Vili and Ve. With them by my side, my mother would let me wander anywhere I wished, far from our village or not. One hot summer day we came to the Ifing River.”
“The border river?”
“Yes. There was no Bifrost then, no mighty bridge; that came later. Just a river shore in late spring flood, with driftwood along the near bank, and the far bank invisible in the mist. We found a log of ash with a hollow divot in it; and some elm twigs we could use to drill holes in the punky wood. We left the twigs in the drill-holes and dressed them with green and brown leaves. Thus we had turned the log into a ship, and the twigs into raiders.”
“Oh!” said Thor. Loki was wrinkling his brow, trying to visualize.
“But we were not done.”
“No?”
“No, raiders needed to be alive, after all. So I blew softly on each one, and gave them souls. Then Ve breathed on them and gave them senses and genders: the men in brown tunics, the women in green kirtles. Finally, Vili blew on them and gave them to understand that we were their gods. The little raiders gave us praise, and we wished them well on their journey. Then we helped them push the log into the river. They landed far away, downstream in Midgard. Those are the ancestors of the humans, not monkeys.”
“You were children at play?” That was Loki, again, trying to make sense of things.
“No; you misunderstand. We were, and are, their gods. Do not forget this.”
“Yes, father,” said Loki, humbly; the two kissed their father, and went to bed.
In their beds, that night:
Thor asked, “Do you think we could do that? Make a new folk?”
But Loki said, “There is less magic in the world now, I think. Or else winter would come.”
“Summer first!”
“Alright,” he laughed. “Someday when I control the weather, I’ll make summer before winter.”