Madness of the Serpent

Maturation

Loki was simultaneously delighted and nervous as he closed his hand around the slightly-damp doorknob – feeling as if he was starting a courtship, about to meet his beloved officially for the first time.

It was absurd – and exceedingly childish – but he could not help his giddiness at the realization of having created a unique being and the wisdom and power it would impart to him. It had been a creature of the vastness of space, a living spirit with untold knowledge and mystery. Who knew what secrets it held within its mind from its journeys throughout the branches of Yggdrasil? Even the All-Father did not have such an object sequestered in his Vault under the Golden Palace.

There were one of two ways to discover the phantom's secrets, and Loki had decided on taking the gentler, more cordial route. The spirit-woman was, after all, the glorious result of the combined powers of the sceptre and the Tesseract. That alone afforded her a modicum of respect – while she remained cooperative, at least.

Loki instructed Barton to wait in the hallway and allow no one to disturb him. The importance of this encounter was too great to leave to chance that some mortal would blunder in with news of the Tesseract's progress. As if he did not already monitor the status of the artifact closely – nearly every waking moment – waiting impatiently for the time when he could bring forth his army of deadly warriors.

The god took a breath to steady his nerves, put on his most charming smile, and opened the door.

The black-haired being sat cross-legged on the mattress, immediately staring up at him with eyes large and dark. They flickered to the golden sceptre he held in his grasp.

Loki closed the door behind him, leaving his hand on the doorknob for a moment longer as he drank her in. She met his gaze with neither terror nor panic now. In fact, her expression was almost entirely blank – a natural negotiation face.

He cleared his throat, having one of those very rare moments in his life when his silver tongue was tied. He was unsure as to what words to say first. How does one relate to a spirit made flesh?

"I suppose we have not had a proper introduction," he began confidently enough, his smile just a little too bright. "I am Loki... Laufeyson," he stated, hoping his hesitation and distaste for having to use his proper surname was not noticed by the celestial being. If she did, she gave no sign of it.

"I do not know if you remember me, but you... I released you from the sceptre's orb. You now have a physical form – human, by the looks of it. I spent an incredible amount of precious energy to do so."

The odd tugging at the back of his mind returned, and he paused in his speech. When he looked at the being he had created, he had the unsettling suspicion he had forgotten something – misplaced an important memory. But when he focused his thoughts and attention on the disquieting sensation, it slipped from his grasp.

Pushing aside the deviation from his mind, Loki continued to speak to the being, his fingers nervously tapping against the hard material of his sceptre. She did not respond to his previous statement, if she even understood its contents. Loki was beginning to doubt that she grasped language as strongly as Barton led him to believe.

He pondered if removing a few of Barton's fingers would impede the assassin's ability to shoot his arrows. Surely he did not need all of them to draw a bow.

"Do you have a name?" he inquired, the good-natured smile still on his face – though he wondered if the spirit recognized the expression and its meaning.

The being stared up at him, giving no obvious response. But her eyes flickered for a moment, seeming to process the question. Her eyes looked downwards, slightly moving from side to side as if she searched for an answer. When she looked up again, she had none.