Yeah, I'm as lost as you are. Sort of tiptoeing around this fun little idea, worldbuilding as I go... feel free to toss out any ideas. Almost nothing about this is solid or well thought-out, so! Each chapter will be as much a surprise for me as it will be for you.
Actually, input is great. Like, you should give me some feedback. Pretty please?
**8**
The little creature cooed and squirmed, staring up at him with vacant eyes. Loki scowled when the baby's attention drifted from his face to the mobile hanging from the blue-painted ceiling. Surely there were more interesting things to look at than wood carvings and string? He glanced around and changed his mind. No, the baby's room was bland and bare, devoid of everything impractical barring the mobile dangling over the crib. This didn't bode well for a cheerful childhood. Loki wondered if the parents really wanted a child.
His charge was an ugly thing, all pink wrinkles and scrunched fists and muddy brown eyes - a tiny little human, smaller than most of his kind at this age. A runt, bald and helpless. The babe could hardly be more pathetic if he tried.
The tiny thing smacked his lips loudly, and Loki sighed.
"You and I are going to become very well acquainted over the years," he said softly. Without thinking he leaned in and stroked a chubby cheek; to his surprise, the child latched onto his unnaturally cool fingers with a small fist and worked his toothless mouth cheerfully. There was a brief staring match, which Loki allowed himself to lose. Gracefully, of course, but a child wouldn't be able to tell. He blinked slowly, and the baby copied him.
"Give me my hand back," he muttered. He twitched his captured fingers."I need it."
The babe waved his free hand. A solid denial. Stubborn thing.
"I will bite your toes," Loki threatened entirely insincerely. "Release me at once."
The baby's head twitched left - a resounding no. Perhaps he wasn't as dull as Loki initially thought him to be. The Asgardian certainly had his full attention now. Didn't human babies ever need to blink?
Loki's hand was dragged higher up the baby's face, smearing through the drool at the corner of his mouth.
"Gross," he complained. He was ignored.
Maybe the little beast wasn't entirely bald, he conceded to himself. There appeared, if he looked closely, to be four dark hairs on the crown of his skull.
He curled his trapped fingers, surprising the little one into releasing him. Loki took an immediate step back as his face began to turn an alarming shade of red. What a curious creature, he thought.
"I will visit again soon," he promised, and whirled away a split second after the wailing began.
In the fraction of a second between leaving and arriving, Loki considered his choice. The boy had potential, for sure, and his quick (extremely illegal) peek into the future told him of a terrible greatness and power. He entertained the idea of warping the child into a villain. He rejected the idea immediately and with extreme prejudice. Perhaps a trickster, then. Loki could teach him all the best pranks. He caught himself almost smiling at the thought.
It was with this slight curve of lips that he appeared in the center of a golden room. The ceiling was nigh thirty feet high, decorative pillars curving up into vague darkness. Torches lit along the walls were reflected across every golden shining surface. To his extreme disappointment, none of the guards jumped this time. He made a face at one and received an aggressively neutral stare in return.
Killjoys.
"Loki," someone boomed. Loki bent into a bow automatically in the throne's direction from his place at the bottom step. The cold floor hurt his knee.
"Allfather," he said. To his own quiet surprise, he sounded entirely sincere.
"You are smiling," Odin Allfather noted. To the king's left stood a withered old man with parchment in his hands. The record keeper, then. Odin's grip on the great spear in his ancient hands tightened. "I take it the greeting went well."
"It did," Loki agreed, no longer smiling. He dared to stand, and no one stopped him.
Odin merely raised one white eyebrow. "And?"
"He is tiny and weak," Loki said calmly.
"All babies are."
"Hn." Loki looked down at his left hand, wiggling the fingers the child had grasped. They still tingled a little. "I accept him as my charge."
"You're sure."
"I am."
"Then it shall be so." Odin leaned back in his throne. "State his name for the keeper of records."
Loki was already turning to leave. "Anthony Stark," he said carelessly, straightening the folds of his cloak and walking away.
"Loki," Odin rumbled, and he paused. There was a short silence. "I am proud of you, my son."
Something relaxed inside of him. "I am sure," he replied shortly. "I shall take my leave."
"One more thing." Loki huffed a sigh.
"Yes, father?"
Something understanding shone in Odin's blue eye. "Will you take off the cloak?"
Loki's fingers twitched towards the black material he'd been wearing for ten months. It felt strange to even think about taking it off, to show the world his charge's soul. He never looked himself, avoiding mirrors and keeping the fine layer of magic over his back hidden with leather and thick fabric. "After Thor has mauled me, perhaps."
"Fine." Odin didn't bother arguing.
Another silence.
"Good day, Allfather."
"Good day, my son."
**8**
Next chapter will feature a bit of explanation, including how the hell they pick a tiny human and how the process works. Also, some of the guidelines for Asgardians and other fun stuff. But not much, because like I said. Tiptoeing.
Once again, comments make my world, so if you could just take the time to give me a little something?