Above All Shadows [Loki Timetravel fic - Completed]

4. Coronation Feast

The feast was glorious. Loki eagerly dug into the dozens of dishes on offer and drank until he felt himself begin to lose control of his sensibilities. After the Snap, the loss of millions of workers and the resulting political instability had disrupted most supply chains. Many basic items increased in price by orders of magnitude or disappeared altogether. Wong and Loki had never gone hungry in the Sanctum, but after relying on the same few foodstuffs for months, the lack of variety had begun to grate.

Once Loki couldn't swallow another mouthful, he ventured out to see the entertainment on offer and to clear the cotton wool in his head. The previous night, at the feast to mark the eve of Thor's coronation, there had been a skilled bard and a troop of lithe dancers from Vanaheim on hand to entertain the gathered. Today, there were easily a dozen bards and dance groups on show. The festivities stretched out far beyond the Great Hall, to the courtyards of the palace and down to the streets of the city itself.

Loki made an unhurried loop of the courtyards, stopping to amuse himself at a lewd puppet show and to cringe at a duo on harps, who were reciting a mangled tale of Loki and Thor's early exploits. At the fifth mention of Loki's 'fierce orbs', his patience reached its limits and he turned to head back inside the palace.

Before he was halfway there, however, he spotted Thor and his usual quartet of hangers-on at the edge of a broad square. The palace guard typically used this space for their training sessions; today it had been re-purposed into an arena for dancing. A group of musicians were playing a lively tune and there were at least a dozen pairs dancing, yet Thor's voice boomed over them all.

'You must dance with me!' he proclaimed. After a moment, he added. 'Nonsense, Lady Dagny, I'm sure you're as graceful on the dance floor as a swan is in water.'

Loki slipped past the revellers charring idly around the edges of the dance area. Thor's cheeks were flushed and his gait was a little unsteady as he took a step towards the mortified-looking Lady Dagny. He had left his hammer somewhere, but he still held onto their father's spear and in fact, seemed to be using it to help him stand without swaying. Loki marvelled, it took many pints to achieve such results. But then today he'd had time enough to be drunk thrice over. The festivities had begun early in the afternoon and now the sun was beginning to set.

'My king,' Lady Dagny stammered out, 'please forgive me. As much as it shames me to admit it, I am a poor dancer.'

'Nonsense, my lady,' Thor replied, again too loudly. 'Lady Sif, will you hold onto Gungnir?'

Both women recognised the futility of resistance. With bewildered eyes, Sif shifted her goblet into her left hand and accepted the spear from Thor. Dagny, for her part, let Thor whisk her away into the flurry of dancing couples.

In a way, Loki could see what Thor was trying to do. Lady Dagny was petite and flaxen-haired, just about the exact type that tended to draw Thor's eye. She was also painfully shy. As a child, she had often danced with her older sisters and her natural grace had been obvious even to Loki and Thor, who at the time had been barely more than children themselves. But now that her older sisters were married off and Dagny was at an age where she was expected to dance with men, she tended to hug the edges of the room. She met any proposal for a dance with wide, startled eyes and a shuddered refusal.

Thor was merely attempting to draw her out of her shell. He was just being a boor about it.

Sweet mercy, I'd near forgot what he could be like.

Frowning, Loki shifted over to Sif. 'Let me take the spear.'

She was all too eager to be rid of it, but then she cocked her head and offered him a sly half-grin. 'Why so sour, Loki? Having second thoughts about those horns?'