the world comes full circle
It is cold, even in the seething waters of the Hvergelmir. The only thing sustaining him is the relentless urge to feed, the all-consuming hunger to grow larger until he becomes strong enough to escape the confines of his prison thousands of fathoms below.
The day comes when he is summoned from the icy depths, his massive head breaking the calm surface at a single gesture from Loki, the ripple of pleasure undulating through his innumerable coils forceful enough to send towering waves crashing onto the shores to make the halls of the gods tremble.
Loki does not need to repeat his offer: he reads acquiescence in the opaque stare of the lidless eyes as Jormungandr lowers his head toward the outstretched hand. The glittering scales fall away as Loki and his son disappear in the first rays of dawn.
It is cold, colder than he had ever felt here, the warmth leaving him as easily and smoothly as blood flowing from a clean deep wound, the scenes of his life flashing before his eyes just like he had read in the books that he devoured voraciously in his efforts to adapt to life as a human.
In the beginning he had been unused to his new form, especially the awkward appendages which got in the way of every movement he made, the facial expressions that he had to practice in front of the mirror to get used to, and the kind, competent voice that seemed to come from someone else.
He had eventually learnt to use all these as naturally (so Loki-sama had reassured him) as any person, to become the perfect butler, housekeeper and companion.
As he sinks into dark oblivion, the voices and movements around him fading with the evening light, his only regret is that he can no longer be of service to Loki-sama.
It is cold, since Loki's inability to pay the electric bills means that they have had to make do with candles thoughtfully provided by Mayura, though its torpor is perfectly natural for cold-blooded creatures at this time of year.
The snake stirs sluggishly in its basket as Loki and Fenrir come through the door, remarkably cheerful despite being dripping wet from their latest case. The dog shakes itself vigorously, making the snake hiss as it is sprayed with dirty water.
Loki dries his face and hands, and carefully picks the snake up, letting it coil around his neck. It settles into the warmth of his body, and dreams of the sun.