Beginnings

Thor sat at the end of his feast table, alone in his great hall. He stared out into the void, peering at the brilliant, distant, countless points of light he knew to be other worlds. His ears strained, concentrating on the rush of Midgard's oceans as they roared against and over the scales of Auroborous at the world's edges. Midgard was the world closest to his own, Asgard, and in many ways was the most important to him.
     "Stop your brooding, Lord of Thunder." Sif  set a huge flagon before the moody countenance of her husband.  "I shall not apologize for my words and you would be wise to heed them"
     Thor reached for the flagon of ambrosia, and Sif could see the storms recede from his eyes. "My brother is misunderstood by those that love him, so I understand your mistrust. What you, and father, and all the others fail to see is this: Loki does as he must. It is his nature, he can not be other than Loki. For all the trouble he causes the rest of us, he is as strong as any against our enemies, and has taught us as much about the monsters of the universe as he has exposed us to them. He too is a son of  Wotan, and I believe he is right this time."
     Sif drank from her husbands cup and considered her words carefully. "You will do as you see fit Thor, and you have my blessings and hope that all works to your favor. But remember this, your brothers interests are not the same as your own, so tread carefully and mind his tricky nature."