“Neither, I think. There /is/ a reason, of course, but I don’t actually think you care. Do you? Though I suppose it breaks up the monotony.” She propped her chin in one hand, watching.
“I feel as though I should beg.” The sarcasm dropped from his words, his back still turned to her. “I suppose I don’t care why you’re here. But, it involves the All-Father, thus I will find out…” Loki peers over his shoulder at her. “So let’s go the easy way about it, shall we?”
She gave a little wave when he finally looked at her. “Mmm, no, I’m not going to just tell you, after all. You’re /so/ much more interesting with that confusion and curiosity.” She grinned, all teeth. “But you can go ahead and ask if it makes you feel better.”
There was no surprise this wasn’t about to be easy for him. Leave it to the All-Father to bring him one that would be hard to crack. “Asking is too easy, and that seems to be the direction you would prefer not to go in. Then let’s start out with a name. You must know me. What about you?”
“You may call me Summer.” With her chin in both hands, elbows perched on knees, she knew she looked very young. “Do they still call you Silvertongue?”
“It is merely a nickname. That I had grown fond until it was used against me.” Yet, deep down, the nickname still remained a favorite, better than other nicknames that floated around for him. “I’d prefer if you stayed with Loki. I had enough nicknames from Stark. Is it safe to believe that you are from Midgard?”
“That’s a fair assumption.” Her eyes crinkled with her smile, more genuine this time. “He calls me Sunshine. Still think of him, do you?”