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"ANOTHER!" LIKE CLOCKWORK, LOKI picked up his goblet just as Thor's meaty fist banged against the dining hall table, toppling over countless empty glasses as the wood rippled beneath the intense wack.
Taking a long sip of his drink, the vexed boy tried his best to ignore the ear-splitting shrieks and giggles that erupted from the women around him, fighting amongst themselves tooth and nail over who got to give The Mighty Thor his next glass of ale; the dining hall almost turning into an arena whenever he felt like putting on a show.
Glancing away from his novel Loki briefly took to observing his brother with dissatisfaction, a sneer marring his charming features as he watched him wink suggestively at a brunette handing him a new glass before bringing it to his lips and chugging.
In less than a couple of seconds the glass was empty and like the countless other cups, discarded aggressively on the table as Thor slammed it down.
This time Loki braced himself for impact.
"ANOTHER!" Thor vociferously demanded, and despite having seen it coming, a nerve was still struck.
"Do you mind?" Loki hissed, irritation dripping from his tongue like venom.
Thor laughed heartily, blue eyes crinkling at the corners, "Go read in the library, brother. This is a man's sport. "
"More like an idiot's sport," Loki snarked under his breath, nose turned up in disgust. "Believe me I would," he added a bit louder, tone as sour as his expression, "if that obnoxious woman ever left."
"Amora is there again?" Thor suddenly turned serious as he asked his question, body leaning forward across the table in an attempt at forming some layer of privacy. Loki rolled his eyes but nodded his head despite his annoyance. She had been there all week, lounging in his favorite spot with her younger sister Lorelei, doing gods know what.
Thor's eyes dimmed as he momentarily looked lost in thought, "I miss how she used to whisper to me as I fell asleep." He muttered, followed promptly by a low, melancholy chuckle that signified the end of his reminiscing. Loki on the other hand was trying desperately to scatter the idea from his mind before it had the chance to settle roots and developed into a stream of thoughts.
He quickly racked his brain for something else to ponder over:
One topic heavy at the forefront of his mind was the boredom slowly eating away at all his joy. For thirteen days Loki's life had been mindlessly drab, nearly driving the prince to the brink of insanity on multiple occasions, courtesy of his mother's never-ending, multiple times a day lessons —or as Loki tenderly calls them, his (unjust) punishment for pranking.
It especially didn't help his already bruised ego that his haven was currently, and earth-shatteringly, under siege by the Enchantress. It seemed as though the vile witch intended on making the prince's life as difficult as possible —but he shouldn't be thinking about her, it only made him more perturbed.
