Madness of the Serpent

The spirit was firmly guided into the human air vessel, which had lightly landed in the pavilion to collect the warriors and their captives. It had found itself, once again, under the dominance of someone more powerful and capable.

Fabric restraints were drawn down its shoulders to cross its chest, though the latch was unable to connect between its knees as this was made impossible by the nature of its cumbersome formal wear. It still wore the dazzling black material, impractical footwear, and glittering jewelry.

Apparently, the Jotun-Asgardian thought it would be more entertaining for it to remain garbed in this fashion. He also found the behavior of one of their captors amusing as he watched the blue-clad human become flustered as he fussed with the spirit’s restraints.

“You’ll have to sit side-saddle, ma’am. I don’t think these seats were designed with evening gowns in mind.”

The spirit did not comply, as it did not understand what the human was attempting to communicate.

“The mortal is requesting you move your legs to the side,” Loki interjected in a smooth voice from directly across the transport where he had also been restrained.

The spirit blinked and moved its knees so they were wedged in the space between the two seats while the large human looked back at Loki.

“You will have to forgive her. She is not familiar with Roosevelt-era English.”

The human ignored him and frowned briefly before moving to the front of the compartment to speak with the two humans who piloted the air vessel.

The spirit watched as the metal humanoid placed the golden apparatus into a long, clear rectangular case. The unique energy of the mind-jewel was muffled, but not completely buried. Even in its secured isolation, the spirit could sense its pervasiveness. Its connection to the jewel had not faded, and it was constantly wary of the consciousness that resided within the azure orb.

It also wondered why the humans did not react to its presence in the same manner as the spirit. Were they ignorant of its power, or were they without reason to fear the artifact as it did?

Their captors were made up of four humans, three males and a female. The female piloted the air vessel along with a male, and had fiery red hair which fascinated the spirit. It had not known humans could exist in such various hues.

The male in the blue suit had de-masked his face, staring down at the spirit with what it could only interpret as concern.

The red-and-gold metal construct, however, was merely a human wearing a suit of armor which could become airborne. He, too, had taken off his helmet, and his visage watched the spirit and Loki with a mixture of exasperation and curiosity.

“Seriously? How can this genocidal string bean have groupies?” the metal human asked as the air vessel began to ascend slowly upward, before traveling horizontally at an increased speed.

“I really don’t want to know,” the blue-clad human responded, running a gloved hand through his brownish-yellow hair, giving a hard stare at the Jotun-Asgardian.

“I don’t suppose you want to tell us where the Tesseract is?” the human inquired of Loki, who merely smiled at him with an obvious intent to be as uncooperative as possible. He neither answered that question, nor the next, which inquired as to where he had taken the SHIELD personnel he had enslaved. The third question, which inquired as to why Loki had come to Earth, caused him to yawn and pull his focus elsewhere, as if the human was not worthy of his attention.

Discovering quickly that he would gain nothing from the intractable Loki, the shield-warrior walked over to the spirit, his hand gripping one of the holds on the ceiling as the vessel was slightly jostled from the air currents.

“What is your name, ma’am?”

The spirit stared up at him, studying his features. His eyes were a more saturated blue than Loki’s and devoid of his intensity. They were gentle and earnest, and at the moment, vaguely troubled.

It could almost feel Loki watching, and out of the corner of its eye he seemed to remain perfectly still.

Though no harm had come to it yet, it was still a captive among powerful entities, and it did not know what they intended to do. The warriors had come to the assistance of the vulnerable humans against Loki, and by its actions it had revealed it wished to protect him. Surely they would automatically see the spirit as their enemy, and would find ways to coerce information from it. Their intentions were unknown, and it did not know if they were trustworthy.

As unstable and threatening as the Jotun-Asgardian was, as precarious and unbalanced as their interactions were, he was at least familiar.

So it remained silent, having learned that was often the safest option in precarious situations.

“All right. Where are you from?”

The spirit did not speak and continued to study his face as it changed from polite wariness to tired frustration, which caused Loki to chuckle and say:

“I wish you the best in extracting information from her. Truly. You may as well attempt to squeeze blood from a stone.”

“If you would rather answer my questions, then by all means. Let’s talk.”

The Jotun-Asgardian gave an icy grin, but elected to remain silent.

“Seriously though, like, how could a homicidal megalomaniac possibly have groupies?” inquired the de-helmeted metal human, ignoring Loki’s mocking words as he continued his conversation with the shield-warrior as if there had been no interruption.

“Charles Manson had murderous groupies,” came the female’s voice from the cockpit.

“Eh… fair enough,” the metal human said, though he added, “And I never thought I would say that about Charles Manson.”

The spirit listened to the odd, nonsensical chatter. Despite the threat posed by Loki, and the malevolent intentions he had in store for this planet, they did not appear overly concerned.

“Hey, I have a question,” the armored human said, turning his metal bulk towards Loki, who raised his eyebrows in mock interest. “Why did you preach to a bunch of Germans in English? I thought you gods were supposed to be, you know, intelligent.”

Loki scoffed in something akin to disgust as he replied, “I thought you mortals valued the cooperation of your allies, but as you know so little about Asgardians, I can see I was mistaken.”

The blue-clad human furrowed his eyebrows and began to say, “How did you…” before his voice trailed away, realization causing him to clench his jaws tightly.

“You are going to answer for your crimes. All of them,” the human said solemnly, his bright blue eyes glaring at the Jotun-Asgardian with obvious anger bordering on loathing. The spirit studied the pair of them, but it did not understand the sudden enmity from the shielded human, nor what Loki meant about the humans’ allies.

The blue-clad human gave one last seething glare towards Loki before returning to the front of the air vessel, which was only a short distance away. After a few moments of silence, he spoke quietly to the armored human who stood at his side.

“I don’t like it.”

“What, Rock of Ages giving up so easily?”

It watched them with open interest, and it had little doubt the Jotun-Asgardian was listening as well, though his eyes remained forward on the spirit.

“I don’t remember it being that easy. This guy packs a wallop.”

Loki continued to stare, smiling slightly as he obviously enjoyed the conversation which revolved around him and his battle prowess.

“Still, you are pretty spry for an older fellow…”

The pair of them began to banter, and the spirit quickly lost interest at the terms it did not understand such as “Pilates” and “calisthenics”. It tried its best to ignore Loki’s stares as it thought back to what had occurred earlier in Germany.

Removing a human’s eye, causing mayhem and panic, putting on an unnecessary grandiose show of dominance, and attracting these more dangerous humans? Did he do this for a specific purpose, or had the tenuous threads of his mind snapped?

Loki had formed a strategy with Barton, but what it could be was a mystery to the spirit. He had not elected to inform it of his intentions. Not that it had asked. Would he have shared his plans if it had?

The way Loki continually stared at it throughout the flight, his pale eyes seeming to taunt, his mouth formed into a half-grin which was mischievous and arrogant, made the spirit want to speak because it believed it knew the source of his delight.

Loki believed he had won their ongoing debate – that he had convinced the spirit of the human’s cowardice and lack of will.

It was true, it had significant doubts for this species, and it would continue to do so. But the lone, aged human, who had stood proudly on his feet even as death stared him in the face – that was an extraordinary amount of courage it had been waiting to witness in the humans.

It had been pleasantly reaffirmed in its belief that these people were not lost, and it would gather more evidence that Loki was mistaken about his judgement of humanity.

But of course, the spirit could not communicate this to him if it had desired, as they were not alone.

Its cascading thoughts were interrupted by a low vibration, followed by a loud crackling sound as a jagged bolt of light flashed outside of the cockpit.

The air vessel shook as the spirit was jostled in its seat, pushed against the restraints. It noted the panic in Loki’s eyes, his right hand clenched into a tight fist against his leg as he looked fearfully toward the ceiling.

Apparently, the humans saw it too.

“What’s the matter? Are you scared of a little lightning?” the blue human asked Loki pointedly.
“I’m not overly fond of what follows.”

That, at least, was not a lie, given his expression. But why the unease? It was only an electrical storm – nothing compared the storms it had glimpsed in the hearts of the gas giants.

Loki glimpsed up at the spirit, attempting to reassert his mask of confident poise, but it was shattered as something heavy crashed against the roof, throwing them against their restraints once more. It winced as the fabric chafed against its thinly-protected shoulders and chest, and it felt entirely vulnerable in its inadequate state of dress.

Bolts of electricity passed much more closely to the air vessel, and the metal human put on his metal helmet. The spirit raised an eyebrow, thinking it should retract its earlier assumption of the intelligence of these particular humans.

This doubt was further solidified as the metal human opened the hatch at the back of the transport.

“What are you doing?!” the human in blue shouted, apparently the only voice of reason.

The metal human was given no time to answer as a very large and well-muscled female with yellow hair wielding a large blunt weapon dropped into the air vessel.

The spirit watched with alarm as Loki’s visage momentarily reverted to a state of vulnerable fear. Its apprehension grew when the large female punched her weapon into the chest of the metal human, throwing him backwards into the shield-warrior and causing them both to tumble to the floor.

The impressive, red-caped female grabbed Loki and ripped him from his seat, gripped him by the neck and bound swiftly from the air vessel, twirling her large weapon and throwing it forward as she flew into the violently flashing clouds, the panicked Jotun-Asgardian caught in her grasp.
It blinked, too shocked to move.

“And now there’s that guy.”

Ah. It seemed it still had some difficulties identifying genders.

“Another Asgardian?” the female from the cockpit yelled, grabbing the spirit’s attention.

Someone from Loki’s planet? Had they come to rescue him?

“That guy’s a friendly?” the blue, muscled figure asked.

“Doesn’t matter. If he frees Loki or kills him, the Tesseract’s lost.”

Its eyes widened at the new information. The Asgardian might destroy him?

“Stark, we need a plan of attack!”

“I have a plan. Attack,” the one named Stark retorted. And then with an impressive show of mechanical grace, he leapt from the air vessel and dived into the flickering storm.

The shield-warrior glanced at the spirit in exasperation, but it had nothing of aid to offer. He reached past its head and removed a rectangular object from nearby.

“I’d sit this one out, Cap,” the red-haired female said, pushing various dials and knobs.

“I don’t see how I can,” he replied, fastening the padded object to his back.

“These guys come from legend. They’re basically gods.”

“There’s only one God, ma’am. And I’m pretty sure he doesn’t dress like that.”

And without a backwards glance, the human leapt from the airborne vessel, leaving the female to flip another switch which closed the hatch, cutting off the noise and violent winds of the storm.

The Asgardians believed they were godly beings? That did not bode well for Loki. It was little wonder he believed he had every right to rule an inhabited planet regardless of the wishes of its residents.

What had Loki done to incur this Asgardian’s wrath? Yes, he had opened a portal on this planet, but only he had come through its shimmering aperture. Everything he had accomplished thus far was miniscule compared to the damage caused by the humans themselves on a daily basis. Surely that was of greater concern if they wished to protect the Earth.

So why had the second Asgardian come? Perhaps they knew of his plan and wanted to intervene. It could imagine that plotting to overthrow an entire world might draw the attention of Loki’s homeworld.

It looked down at its hands as faint memories echoed back from a time when it was nothing but energy and consciousness. It remembered in faded images how Loki’s mind had been burdened with grief, and rage, and betrayal. Something had happened to him before he had become lost – some event which had led to being adrift in the void, slowly freezing as the life drained from his body.

Had the Asgardians abused him in some way? Had they returned to inflict further harm upon him?

Or had Loki done something terrible even before the spirit had found him? Had the blackness in his mind always been there, and it was mistaken when it thought the grotesque tormentor had corrupted his will?

No. It had not been wrong. The being with which it had merged had not had an evil or cruel nature. Its doubts were nothing more than the byproduct of having a physical brain – uncertainty and fear of error were a part of the living experience.

There was nothing to be done. Not with its frail body, not with its lack of strength and power. It could sense the energies of the mind-jewel and had seen through some of Loki’s manipulations and illusions. What was the use of that? It could not fight. Could not defend itself.

It could not protect the Jotun-Asgardian, the sole reason it was in this predicament to begin with.

It closed its eyes, pushing aside its troubled thoughts and ever-churning mind over what was happening between the two Asgardians.

When it opened its eyes, the air vessel was gone, the rumble of engines was absent, and it was standing above a dark, mountainous forest. Its first exposure to the planet’s surface outside of mankind’s influence.

It automatically looked towards the darkened sky, scattered and covered in a blanket of twinkling stars. That alone would have held its attention had it not been for the sound of violence and conflict nearby.

The spirit looked down and was startled to see Loki at its feet, staring up at it with amusement and mirth as his face was lit in the pale light reflected from a close planetoid, the fear gone from his features.

Loki had pulled its consciousness from its physical form, something it had not known he was capable of doing. It looked down at its hands, flexing its fingers in curiosity. It certainly felt real, and all of its senses were processing the environment as if it was truly present. But it could feel, in the back of its thoughts, that its body was still onboard the air vessel, its mind still tethered even at a great distance.

“I thought you would benefit from this display of machismo and manly prowess. Further your education into the champions of this world.” Loki drew his eyes back to the sounds of battle, and made an outstretched gesture with his hand.

“My brother in action, heroically defending the honor of his disgraced, pitiful, pathetic younger sibling.”

The sharp bitterness in his voice was almost visceral, and it focused its vision down the rocky hill to the trees. The red-cloaked Asgardian was there, battling with the metal human while turning all vegetation in the vicinity into kindling and dust.

“Brother?” it asked, its gaze focused on the yellow-haired figure more closely.

Loki ignored the question, his long fingers beginning to pick compulsively at a crease of fabric near his knee.

“Look at how they strut, they peacock, they puff out their chests like two beasts fighting over a desirable mate.” Loki gave a cynical laugh, his teeth shining even in the dim light. “I would be flattered if they both did not want to end my life nearly as equally as the other.”

The spirit continued to watch the two beings fight, leaving a path of destruction behind them – each powerful blow that landed seemed to only fuel the rage of the receiver.

“They devastate everything they touch,” he said softly, as if he had read its thoughts. “No care is taken for this planet they claim to protect. They are lackadaisical children playing at being grown, fighting over their beloved toys while simultaneously smashing them to pieces.”

The spirit understood the intentions of Loki’s words. He was trying to manipulate and coerce it into seeing his point of view. Tainting its perspective with his bias, as he had attempted to do since the beginning of its existence.

Unfortunately, it saw nothing that proved his words false.

The spirit shielded its eyes as a blinding bolt of electricity struck from the skies onto the hammer which Loki’s brother seemed to favor, sending the electrical charge straight into the chest of the metal human – who in turn struck at the Asgardian with a searing blow that should have ended the fight.

This brought a pleasurable laugh from the Jotun-Asgardian who watched the fray with a lean hunger.

The powerful blow only seemed to anger the Asgardian further, and he struck at the metal human, who then sent them both flying off through the forest to slam into the distant cliffs. It could hear their battle even from this distance.

“You do not flee,” it said, dark eyes glancing downwards to his relaxed form.

“No,” he replied simply, his own pale eyes staring in the direction of the fight which could no longer be seen.

“You wished to be found,” it estimated, slowly unraveling the objective of his overt displays of dominance in the human city.

Loki finally broke his line of sight from the tree tops and looked upwards, his expression one of rare seriousness.

“Good. What else?”

The spirit met his gaze in the darkness, the eerie glow of the lunar satellite casting everything in a spectral pall.

Loki doesn’t do anything without a reason.

With the words of Barton echoing in its mind, it replied:

“They possess something you seek.”

The slow smile which spread across his face was one it had not witnessed before. The expression fixed on Loki’s face was one of pride.

“You are learning.”

It hesitated before asking with honest sincerity, hoping the Jotun-Asgardian was feeling agreeable enough to answer:

“Why did you harm the humans?”

Before he could respond, their attentions were drawn to the trees as the two powerful beings returned, tossing and rolling and grappling with each other in bursts of sparks and flame.

Loki smiled with a sense of pleasure that would not have been unpleasant if it had not been tinged with such darkness.

“I could watch this all night.”

The battle was momentarily interrupted as the shield-warrior descended from the sky, cloth billowing above his head which gently floated him towards the ground. The human released the cloth as soon as he landed, and he tossed his shield to strike at both the metal human and the Asgardian.

“Hey!” he yelled, catching their attention and his shield. “That’s enough!”

The battle was abruptly halted.

The human jumped down from the broken trunk of a tree to the ground, and they spoke too quietly for it to hear all of the conversation. It only caught bits and pieces, such as “Loki’s schemes!” and “…hammer down?!”

It then could see what was about to happen clearly enough.

The Asgardian leapt into the air, swinging his large hammer and arching it downward onto the circular shield of the blue warrior.

The concussive blast which emanated from the collision flattened the trees in a growing radius which raced up the cliff in a violent show of force. It gasped and raised its arm to shield its face, and then… there was nothing. No wind buffeting its form, no shattering boom as the concussive blast reached its ears.

The spirit opened its eyes and saw it was seated aboard the flying transport – its racing heart the only evidence that anything had transpired.

______________________________________________________________________

The air vessel landed once more to pick up its wayward passengers, which now included the yellow-haired Asgardian with his impressive frame and bulging muscles, his face clearly unhappy as he regarded the other occupants of the crowded space.

All three combatants looked sullen and disheveled, but surprisingly no worse for wear considering the intensity of their clash.

The Asgardian glanced at the spirit curiously, and it observed him in turn, pointedly trying to avoid Loki’s gloating sneer. He was attempting to contain his gleeful arrogance, but it could easily read it upon his face.

None of the others seemed to pay the Jotun-Asgardian much mind once he was secured. It had a growing suspicion that before long, they would underestimate him to their own detriment. They were unfamiliar with the depths of his frenzied obsession and the height of his hunger for power.

But what could it do?

At the thought of hunger, a familiar gnawing sensation filled its midsection, and it slightly cringed forward. It had not consumed enough nourishment since its first meal in Loki’s underground lair, and it had barely eaten anything during the human celebratory event that had been shattered by Loki’s show of brutality.

The small gesture caught his eye, and Loki studied it closely before pursing his lips together in annoyance and calling the attention of the nearest being – the metal human.

“Mortal. Be of use and fetch my associate sustenance immediately,” he said in a clipped tone that expected nothing short of compliance.

“’Associate’. That sounds so… formal and business-like. What, is she your secretary or something?” the human replied, clearly amused by the request and the tone in which it was delivered.

“Why does she have to be a secretary? She could be a partner, or an accomplice,” the red-haired female inquired from the controls of the transport.

“Really, Romanoff? You’re going there?” the metallic human asked, the corner of his mouth tucked inward. “If I remember correctly, you were my secretary for a time.”

“Didn’t have much of a choice. Some lipstick and high heels and Stark Industries was easier to infiltrate than a daycare.”

The human in blue tried to stifle his sudden grin while the metallic human appeared affronted. The red-caped sibling of Loki simply watched him, his arms crossed over his muscular chest as he frowned slightly.

Loki, who appeared more and more irritated the longer he was ignored, finally shrugged and sat back in his seat, his growing annoyance vanishing in the abrupt way his emotions often changed.

“Ignore my words at your own peril. I am sure your superior will be pleased to see one of your captives having fainted from food-deprivation.”

This was when the yellow-haired Asgardian finally spoke, his voice deep and tinged with displeasure.

“Who is this woman, Loki? Why have you starved her?”

The Jotun-Asgardian snorted derisively as he glared icily at his sibling.

“I did not starve her, Odinson. Do not presume to understand anything about the situation or my actions when you are so clearly ignorant of what has transpired since our last encounter.”

Loki’s brother growled deeply in his throat, causing the spirit to wonder briefly if this was where Loki learned that particular mannerism. The Asgardian held his weapon at his side, tightly clenching the handle as his body language clearly spoke of wishing to strike at his younger sibling.

“Cool it,” the shield-warrior snapped, physically placing his muscular blue form between the two Asgardians.

“Yeah, I’m thinking the Norse gods need a little time out. Maybe some fresh air would do ya some good, eh Fabio?”

The yellow-haired Asgardian regarded the red-and-gold armored human with a serious expression that did not find his light tone to be appropriate.

“Loki is not to leave my sight so long as we both remain on Midgard.”

“By order of dear Odin? He must truly miss me so.”

“You dare mock Father?! You do not know what he sacrificed – what we both sacrificed – in order to bring you back to Asgard!” The Asgardian’s tone had risen to an alarming volume, and the blue-clad human had to physically hold him back as Loki scathingly replied:

“Oh, do not pretend with me Thor. I know you came to Earth to fetch the Tesseract for the All-Father like the obedient hound you are. Save your pathetic platitudes for the mortals – they enjoy a good fable.” Loki’s cool composure began to slip as he bared his teeth at his brother.

The blue-clad human and the metal-armored human both had to hold onto the Asgardian as he attempted to advance on Loki, ominous thunder causing the air vessel to shudder.

“We’re never going to make it to the Helicarrier in one piece if you fellas don’t knock it off,” the red-haired female said as she looked back at the Asgardians, her eyebrows furrowed as she appeared annoyed rather than afraid of their behavior.

Loki slowly relaxed, sitting back in his restraints as he examined the trio with an expression teeming on boredom.

The Asgardian watched him warily before also loosening his tensed muscles, retreating as the two warriors gradually released him. Shooting a glance at the spirit, who had remained motionless the entire exchange, he moved to the front of the vehicle, past the two human warriors as he seemed to try to get as far from Loki as possible.

“You really shouldn’t antagonize him, unless you have a death-wish.”

Loki merely smirked at the shield-warrior, the corner of his lip crinkled in something akin to a snarl.

“My associate still requires tending to. Surely a man of honor would not allow such a beautiful flower to wilt in his care?” Loki asked mockingly of the warrior, who glared at him while the armored human appeared to turn away with a smirk – which also earned a glare from the soldier.

“Fine. I’ll see if there is something stowed away for her. But you get nothing.”

“Such chivalry. Does America treat all of its prisoners of war in such a fashion?” The question seemed to mean something to the human, as he turned back to the Jotun-Asgardian with an annoyed look on his face.

“Pretty sure the international laws regarding POWs were only meant for people of Earth.”

Loki appeared to consider his words before he remarked offhandedly:

“If that is the case, you may wish to reexamine your treaties.”

“Yeah? And why is that?” the human asked, pausing as he searched through a compartment near the floor.

“The universe is a very large place. And you are very small people.”

“Look at Mr. Chatty-Pants. I wish he would shut up and go back to the glowering and moody silence,” the armored human remarked as he re-entered the conversation, something tan and rectangular in his hand.

“Here,” he said, extending his hand and the object he held toward the spirit before hesitating. Clearing his throat, he tossed the item into its lap rather than hand it over directly. The spirit stared down at it uncomprehendingly.

“Clif Bar to the rescue. You owe me one, Cap. I had to delve into my personal stash.”

“Why do I owe you one?”

“You carry protein bars? Where?” the red-haired female asked, her even tone lightly tinged with mirth as she looked over her shoulder.

“Yeah. It’s a low blood sugar thing. Pepper gets worried and makes me shove snacks into my suit. Look, I can fly – you really think I can’t design hidden compartments for junk food?”

“You literally built a fanny pack for Iron Man,” the female responded, the mirth in her voice more evident now.

“Mock me now, but when we’re stranded in the middle of nowhere and you get the munchies, guess who will be laughing then? This guy, right here.”

The spirit continued to stare down at the crinkly, rectangular shaped object in its hand as the humans chattered, wondering if it was supposed to bite into the tan material. It raised the item to its mouth and bit down on one corner, but it did not have a taste nor did it easily tear like an edible.

It heard a soft sigh from across the air vessel, and as it looked up at the source of the noise, Loki gave a subtle flick of his finger. It did not understand the gesture, but when it looked down to the object in its lap, it saw the tan material was actually an outer coating meant to protect the food-stuffs, and it had been torn in half.

The spirit looked back up at the Jotun-Asgardian, but he fixed his pale gaze on the warriors, so it raised the brown, rectangular object to its nose and detected a rich, sweet scent. It took a large bite.

Despite the uncertainty, instability, and possible danger of its new captivity, its mood instantly improved as it proceeded to devour the entire edible bar while listening to the dialogue between the humans and the new Asgardian.

“So Thor… Mind if I pick your brain for a second?”

“Pardon?”

“I have a question for you, man.”

“You may ask,” the Asgardian responded, his tone still gruff but the muscles in his shoulders seemed to have lost much of their tension.

“If Loki was speaking English to, say, a crowd of kneeling, shaking, crying Germans, would they be able to understand him?”

“He would not be speaking English, metal man,” Thor responded in a tone that indicated the answer should have been obvious.

“Okay, run that by me again? And it’s Stark, not ‘metal man’. Though you can call me Iron Man also, which is technically a metal man-“

“What language was he speaking then?” the blue-clad human asked, interrupting.

“The All-Tongue, of course.”

“…care to explain that?”

“Yeah, what Shield Man said.”

“Stark…”

The yellow-haired Asgardian stared between the two humans with obvious confusion, and the spirit began to sympathize with him in regards to the strange behavior of the citizens of this planet.

“All citizens of Asgard speak the All-Tongue, which is interpreted by each race as their native language. You may have heard English while these other mortals would have understood Loki’s words in their own tongue.”

“Ah…” Stark replied, seemingly unable to respond with anything further as he glanced at Loki. The shield-warrior did as well, and the spirit could not help but do the same as it remembered its first few moments as a living, breathing entity. Loki had spoken – commanding it to look into his face – and the spirit had immediately interpreted his voice as intelligible thoughts.

How had it understood Loki’s very first words when it had never used spoken languages before?

The Jotun-Asgardian offered them nothing more than his poisonously sweet smile.

Notes