( it's a rare thing when loki joins him during victory festivities (which victory it is this time matters not, though thor seems to recall loki had some part to play in deciding the outcome); even rarer still when loki actively indulges in them, so thor would be a fool were he not to seize the opportunity when it presents itself, because so often his brother prefers to sneak away only for thor to have to track him down later, and always at his own expense (loki never does make it easy for him even when thor thinks he knows exactly where his brother has run off to, and perhaps that is just part of this game they play).
there is heat flaring his cheeks from drink and warmth in his chest from the sound of his brother's laughter filling the hall as if it were the only sound among the din of celebration. it is, thor thinks, the only sound that matters; selfishly, he wishes it weren't drowned out by the swift and immediate raucousness of his companions, friends though they are, wishes for just a moment he could enjoy this with his brother alone. a fleeting thought occurs to him that he could simply drag loki away (and he surely will, once they've both had their fill, once the desire coiling in his belly no mead can temper becomes too great) but for now there are appearances to keep and it wouldn't do to refuse to participate in a celebration in his (their) honor.
eventually, after several more drinks and tales of victories past, he swings an arm around loki's shoulders, their bodies crashing together clumsily as he raises a glass to signal his intention.
and then he bellows the first verse of a very old song — a song he and loki and every man of asgard were raised on, a song that lives deep within his heart and shall remain there until his very last breath. )
( anyone who asks loki will hear that he played a sizable role in their victory today. after all, if he hadn't distracted the giant, or stopped that boulder from falling on fandral (or hogun, or sif, or even thor himself, depending on who comes to mind first on the retelling), or pierced the beast in the juncture of its neck with a well-aimed dagger, the victory would've been far less decisive. loki gives the details a little twist whenever he manages to bend someone's ear. what can he say? he's a gifted storyteller, and the gods love a good story.
most of the night, though, is spent in close proximity to his brother. whether it's by thor's will or loki's is impossible to say. it's more likely that they're drawn to each other, like magnets, or like a planet orbiting a star, and the heady mix of mead, laughter, and triumph in the face of danger makes them more so.
when thor's arm ensnares his shoulder for the umpteenth time that evening, loki grabs the nearest full glass he can find (regardless of whether it appears to have belonged to someone else) and raises it alongside thor's. his brother's voice fills his head, and the ancient tune hums through his veins. he picks up the verse a few beats later, his voice a silvery current beneath thor's thundering roar. )
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most of the night, though, is spent in close proximity to his brother. whether it's by thor's will or loki's is impossible to say. it's more likely that they're drawn to each other, like magnets, or like a planet orbiting a star, and the heady mix of mead, laughter, and triumph in the face of danger makes them more so.
when thor's arm ensnares his shoulder for the umpteenth time that evening, loki grabs the nearest full glass he can find (regardless of whether it appears to have belonged to someone else) and raises it alongside thor's. his brother's voice fills his head, and the ancient tune hums through his veins. he picks up the verse a few beats later, his voice a silvery current beneath thor's thundering roar. )