Loki's older sister, golden-haired Thor of the loud voice and clomping feet, teases her incessantly for all the tripping. The teasing does not noticeably diminish when Loki begins carrying a scepter.

"...But it is funny," says Thor, puzzled.

"Over and over and over?" asks Loki. "How is that funny?"

"I don't know, sister, it just is."

"But I don't like it when you tease me."

Thor just blinks at her.

"And I can't stop tripping even though I'm trying really hard so I can't stop you teasing me that way. So you should stop."

"Oh," says Thor. She frowns in thought.

"If you tripped I wouldn't laugh at you."

"Why not?"

"Well, I don't think tripping is funny anyway, but even if I did I wouldn't want to make you feel bad."

Thor frowns some more.

"You don't understand, do you? No one ever laughs at you about anything."

"I don't know," she says slowly. "I don't think I do anything worth laughing at."

"You don't," agrees Loki. "You have it much easier than me, you see? I'd much sooner not do anything to laugh at, only I can't."

"But you're a princess of Asgard," says Thor. "You have to."

"I know, I'm trying," says Loki. "It just doesn't work. And teasing me doesn't help."

"It isn't meant to," says Thor, still with that puzzled frown.

"Is it meant to do anything?" asks Loki.

"I don't know," Thor admits, scrunching up her face. "I just do it, I don't think about why."

"Can you stop if you want to?"

Thor contemplates this question.

Loki waits patiently.

"I don't know," she says eventually.

"I hope you will try," says Loki earnestly.

Thor looks uncomfortable and shrugs.

Loki decides to quit while ambiguously ahead, and goes off, looking for Father.

Her father is working at his loom.

"Father?" says Loki. "May I talk to you?"

"Of course, child," he says, glancing up at her with a smile. "Come here."

Loki approaches, and sits, and puts her scepter down. "I asked Thor to stop teasing me for falling, but I don't think she understood me, and anyway I don't like to fall. Is there magic that would make it stop?"

"There is no such magic, my dear," Frigg says affectionately. "I have done what I can for you already."

Loki thinks about this. "Could more magic be invented?"

Frigg shakes his head.

"Then where did the magic that already is come from?"

"I don't know, child," he says. "It is far older than I."

"If I learned it perhaps I could find how it is made and how to make myself stop falling."

"The magic I work is men's magic, and not suitable for a young warrior," says Frigg, kissing the top of Loki's head. "And you are young and do not know it, and I am old and know it very well."

"I can't be a good warrior if I keep falling," points out Loki.

"Why not? I could defeat my enemies with them!"

"...My daughter," says Frigg, "warriors do not use magic in battle. It is unwomanly."

"Why?"

"Because it is dishonourable," he says firmly.

"How is it dishonorable, though?"

"Battle is a contest between women that measures skill at arms, not a contest between men that measures skill at sorcery."

"Okay, so I guess I won't defeat my enemies with sorcery," says Loki, "but I won't be able to defeat any enemies at all if I keep falling. I want to try to fix it."

"I will think on it further," Frigg promises.

"All right," sighs Loki, who supposes this is the best she will get today.

Frigg ruffles her hair and goes back to his weaving.

"What is it, Loki?"

"I was wondering if you had got anywhere about helping me not fall? I want to see the spell-parts."

"It is a tricky problem," says Frigg. "If the knowledge exists, I do not think it exists in this realm."

"How did you learn magic, Father?"

"From my father, in Vanaheim," he says. "A very long time ago."

"Are girls ever allowed to learn it there?"

"There are girls who learn magic," says Frigg, "but you will not be one of them, because your mother wants you to be better than that."

"Mother does magic sometimes, though," Loki says slowly.

"The power of Odin is sacred, and it came at a terrible price," he says, shaking his head. "It is no art of men."

"Her eye," nods Loki, pensive.

"Her eye, and other things," says Frigg. "Terrible and secret things. I would hope you do not seek power at so great a cost."

"I would rather learn magic that doesn't want my eye," says Loki. "But I don't like that I am not supposed to learn any magic at all whether it wants my eye or not. If there are two kinds of people and one kind doesn't do magic and the other does, maybe I should just be the other kind?"

"You cannot," sighs Frigg. "A woman you were born; a woman you will be. And please, do not voice such thoughts to your mother."

"I don't talk to her about anything important," says Loki.

"You are wise beyond your years," says Frigg, smiling.

"Sometimes I have a new idea for talking to her and then I try it, but never with anything that matters. But you don't growl at me."

"I do not," says Frigg. "Fathers do not growl. We are gentle and kind."

Loki considers this, then says, "I don't want to growl at any children. Does that mean I just can't have them?"

"Growling," says Frigg, "is optional."

"Oh, that's good, I thought maybe it was like hitting my enemies with swords when I am big enough to have enemies," says Loki with relief. "...Is that optional? Maybe I could just not have any enemies? Where do those come from anyway?"

"They come from many places," says Frigg. "And if you have them, and do not defeat them, they will try to defeat you. But hitting them with swords is not the only way." He smiles slightly. "Your mother, for example, carries a spear."

"...And it would be bad to just magic them defeated and go back to whatever I wanted to be doing?" Loki clarifies.

"It would be dishonourable," says Frigg. "If you do that too often, every warrior in the Nine Realms will be your enemy."

"Oh. Then I would never get to do whatever I wanted to be doing," frowns Loki. "...All of them? Even Thor would hate me?"

"Thor would think you had done a very bad thing, but she is your sister, and she loves you," says Frigg.

"Oh." Loki sighs. "I would still like to be able to do other things with it, though. I read a book that said sorcerers can change into birds!"

"We can," says Frigg. "I have done it. You can touch my cloak of feathers if you like, but you cannot use it, because it is not yours. And you cannot make your own, because you are not a sorcerer."

"I want to fly," says Loki. "Sometimes I have dreams about flying and I'm not clumsy at all."

"We all have dreams," her father sighs.

"What do you have dreams about?"

"Complicated adult things."

"Not flying?"

"Not anymore."

"I guess now you can really do it, so you don't have to have dreams about it," muses Loki. "Is it wonderful? Flying?"

"I have not flown in a long time."

"Why not? You don't have to be womanly, so you could."

"I have my duties to attend to."

"Because that is how it is," says Frigg.

"But why is that how it is instead of it being some other way?"

"Because that is how it was when things began, and next you will ask me why it was that way, and I will tell you that I was not there and do not know."

"Why doesn't anyone change it, then?"

"And how, little one, do you imagine such a thing would be done?"

"If everyone agreed that it was okay for anybody to spear their enemies or magic themselves into birds, would that be it or would other things have to happen?" asks Lokibell, tapping her chin.

"I cannot imagine everyone agreeing to that," says Frigg.

"Why not?"

"Because they do not believe it, and they do not want to believe it, and so they won't."

"Why don't they want to? They could do more things, then."

"But they do not want to do those things," says Frigg. "Most women do not want to be sorcerers. They want to be warriors."

"I don't think they should have to do them, but do people like not being allowed?"

"There are many things people are not allowed to do, that they accept because it is better to live that way than not," says Frigg. "We are not allowed to steal, or murder, or disobey our queen; it is dishonorable to lie, to cheat, to betray friends and allies. And it is against the nature of women to do magic, and against the nature of men to take arms except in great need."

"How do natures work?"

"What do you mean?"

"What about me being a girl means no magic? Where in me does it live? Can I take it out?"

"It lives in all of you," says Frigg. "You cannot take it out. For a girl to do sorcery would be - well, it would be worse than a boy trying to be a true warrior."

"Worse?" says Loki. "Why worse?"

"There are worthy reasons for a man to fight - in defense of his home or his family, when all else has failed. I learned the use of a dagger myself, once. But there are no worthy reasons for a woman to do sorcery."

"But can't sorcery do all kinds of things? Flying would just be for fun, but there's - healing magic, and stuff, that could be really important."

"If healing must be done, a healer can be sought," says Frigg.

"You could say the same thing about warrior-ing though."

"Have you become a warrior since last we spoke, little one?" he asks, amused.

"No-o-o, but, you could, couldn't you?"

"You could, but you would be wrong," he says.

"Why couldn't you go get a warrior the same way you could go get a healer?"

"Because when you are looking for a healer, the injury or sickness you want to fight will not be holding a sword to your throat," Frigg says gently.

"No-o-o. But it could have you bedridden or you could be missing a leg and then you couldn't go looking for a healer very well, could you?"

"Ah," says Frigg. "You see, I was thinking that you wanted this imaginary healer to help someone else."

"Maybe not. Or, maybe you mustn't go anywhere because you could be contagious and someone has the disease worse?"

"It would be very selfish to dishonour your whole family with unwomanly conduct so that someday you might not die of a disease you might eventually catch."

"Why would it dishonor anybody besides me?"

"That is how dishonour works, my child," says Frigg. "Sometimes. Especially with the young. If you were to learn any magic now, it would be a shame to your mother and I. Perhaps even to Thor, as your elder sister."

Loki frowns. "What about when I'm older?"

"I do not think the day will come when it would not be a shame to your mother."

"I wouldn't be ashamed if Thor learned magic. I would think it was interesting."

"Your mother feels differently."

"Why?" pleads Loki. "I wouldn't do anything bad with it."

"To Odin, the fact that you did it at all would be bad enough."

Loki pouts. "I don't think any of this makes any sense. And she doesn't like me anyway, because I fall."

"Falling is not a thing you choose to do," he says, "so it is far less of a disappointment. And Odin's word is law whether it makes sense to little girls or not."

"Is it against the law for girls to do magic?"

"It is against custom."

"What makes that different from law?"

"When you break the law, the penalties are named and understood. When you break custom, they are more subtle."

"What happens if people break this custom, then?"

"Shame and dishonour," says Frigg. "And many enemies."

"What actually happens, though - with the shame and dishonor?"

"Oh," says Loki, and she sighs. "I don't really want to be a boy, but I want to be allowed to learn whatever I want."

"You cannot be a boy," says Frigg. "And if you were determined to learn sorcery, I am sure I could not stop you. But I am also sure there would be consequences, and perhaps grave ones."

"I don't like that," Loki says. "I want to fix it."

"One day," says Frigg, "you could be a queen, and perhaps you will be able to do something about it then."

This appears to have been the exact right thing to make Loki's day; she grins from ear to ear.

Frigg smiles indulgently at her.

"But, I don't know how to impress Mother," she adds, suddenly sobered. "She doesn't like me."

"Your mother hopes you will grow up to do great things," says Frigg. "Great and honourable, as a princess should."

"I want do do great things," Loki says.

"Then perhaps you will."

"Maybe you'll figure out how to unclumsy me," says Loki hopefully.

"I hope that I do."

The room is almost empty, save for a single pedestal on which rests a glittering blue cube.

"Ack - Mother - the - the door was unlocked -"

"It should not have been," Odin growls, setting her down in the hall with a little shake and yanking the door shut behind them. "You could have died, girl. I have seen those who touch the Tesseract with their bare hands burn up from the inside. The artifacts of my treasure rooms are not a child's toys. Do not enter this hall again."

"It didn't hurt me," Loki says. "I'm - I'm fine - it told me - I mean -"

"Of one thing I am certain," says her mother. "You are not fine. Go to your father and see what his magic will make of you. Speak to no one else of what you have done."

"Yes, Mother -" Loki touches the wall for balance. "My scepter...?"

She points to the end of the hall and growls, "Go."

"Yes, Mother," Loki murmurs meekly, and she goes as best as she can without its support, hand on the wall.

Her father, of course, is at his loom.

"F-father," stammers Loki, "Mother said - I should go to you and - 'see what your magic would make of me' - I don't understand - there was an open door, in the hall I was going down, and a pretty thing - and I'm not supposed to tell anyone else about it -"

"Come here, child," he says, turning away from the loom and holding out his arms. "Start from the beginning."

She leans into the embrace. "I went down the sixth floor west hall, the one with the room for all the old musical instruments that's usually the only thing open, and I was tapping my scepter on the wall, and one of the doors opened, and I went in, and there was a pedestal, with a pretty blue cube, and I liked it, and I wanted to pick it up."

"I'm okay," insists Loki. "It - told me things, I don't know how to say what things but there were a lot of them, and it put me on the floor, and I wanted to touch it again but Mother came in and picked me up by my tunic and put me out in the hall before I caught my breath, and she said I could have died, and to go to you."

"The Tesseract is very dangerous," says Frigg, smoothing down Loki's hair. "You might have been hurt in ways you wouldn't notice."

"Was I?"

"I'm going to look at you with magic, to make sure you haven't been."

Frigg hugs her and pets her hair. Nothing obvious happens, but then, with magic sometimes it doesn't.

Hugs. Hugs and waiting.

"...Well," he says eventually. "It changed you, but I don't think it hurt you. You are a very lucky girl."

"Changed me how?"

"I'm... not sure," he murmurs.

Loki tilts her head curiously. "But I'm different now, some way?"

"Yes."

"Maybe it changed my nature," suggests Loki. They were only just talking about natures, which did not seem to be made of anything sensible.

"That is not," says Frigg, "how natures work."

"Oh."

"And you should not touch strange magical artifacts you know nothing about," he adds. "The next one may not be so kind."

"I didn't know. The door was unlocked," says Loki unhappily.

"It should have been locked and warded so that none but Odin could pass it," says Frigg. "But even so, not all doors that you can pass are doors that you should."

"How do I tell?"

"You could ask me, or Thor, or a servant," he suggests.

"Would Thor have known not to go in that door?"

"Perhaps. She does know some things about where to go and where not to."

Loki nods. "Okay. ...Father, my scepter's still in the room. Mother wouldn't let me pick it up before I went."

"I will see what can be done about retrieving your scepter," he says.

"Okay. I like it."

Frigg smiles.

"You can go."

Loki goes - hand on the wall - to her rooms.

The scepter is lying on her bed.