Loki & Wanda
Loki sat only after helping, once she was certain that Wanda was comfortable. She gathered that Wanda hadn't had time to grow into her powers. They were thrust upon her with no time to grow naturally. She reached over and rested a comforting hand over one of the young mother's hands, taking a deep breath as if steadying them both.
"You can not change that," Loki said slowly, not wanting to upset her but not wanting to hide any harsh reality either. "I'm likely the worst person to speak on this subject. Magic is infinitely complex and we will always be different. Midgard has lost such knowledge, by whatever means, and now it is known only to a select few. That is why you might be viewed as somehow unnatural. While rare, Midgardians once had magic. Even Asgardians with unbound affinities are few, but they exist. My adoptive mother was raised by Vanar witches. They were the first to master runes and spell-craft at the dawn of creation. It rivaled the strictly elemental magics of Alfheim or Jotunheim..."
Her voice trailed off, remembering how it felt to be a child that dreamed of running away to Vanaheim or Alfheim, to worlds where magic users were more openly accepted. If not for feeling that way, those secret paths to far flung places like Svartalvheim or Jotunheim wouldn't have ever been discovered.
"It is a precious bond between you," she continued, and there might be a vague hint of a warning herein, "and you are extraordinarily powerful. More than you realize or have been told. I know not how this will affect both of your sons. It is best left for you teach him your ways, as your heart sees fit, and to guide them both as best you can. Changing outside perceptions can only be done based on one's deeds. Harmful deeds are always the hardest to erase from hearts and minds. You know this, so you will be more mindful with your sons."