Disclaimer: I don't own Thor, or any of the characters used in this fic. They all belong to Marvel and their respective creators. I only own any original characters that I choose to include, as well as any original plot ideas.

A Bit Of Propriety

A/N: Pre-Thor.


They sit together at table; the first taken by the smell of sweetmeat and boisterous as ever. The second broods, silently disapproving of the elder prince's behavior: Pounding the table with a fist, as he laughs, grinding the meal between his teeth. It's disgusting, really. Even embarrassing, though they dine alone tonight.

"You ought not do that," he murmurs in a breath, elbows propped upon the table. "It's rather unappealing."

Golden hair sweeps into the other's face as he bellows again with laughter, leaning back in the grand chair. Thor grins, and, having torn the meat away, points the bare bone at his brother. "And why not? This night is one of celebration, for Father and Mother are blessed with yet another sweet century together!"

The bone flies across the table, landing squarely on Loki's untouched plate. He grimaces, gently pushing it aside. There is no need to bother with it now, contaminated as it is. Blue eyes stare placidly at Thor as he noisily continues his feast.

"You know what I meant," he replies coolly. "Rather than rabble rousing and behaving like a beast, you ought to show a bit of propriety. Behave like the prince you are."

"What, like you?" Thor jabs. "Cold and disconnected? Is that what you suggest for me, Brother?" He snickers, downing a goblet of ale. "I think not. I'd rather enjoy life!" The table rattles. "Be free and merry the rest of my days!"

Loki raises his brows and shrugs, leaving the table to stand at the balcony. "Well, if you don't care," the silvertongue says, weaving his lies, "then I'll not say another word on the matter."

The elder prince appears taken aback, pushing himself from the table, and scraping the legs of that beautiful chair so, to stand at his brother's side, trying to peer into his eyes.

"Care about what?" he asks. "What don't I care about, Loki? What do you know?"

The younger brother looks away, plays coy as he sets about on a stroll across the room. "Well, I did give my word, which you know is not to be compromised, but..." Loki pauses and smiles, feeling Thor's eyes boring into his back. "For you, my Brother, I will do anything."

"Then tell me," Thor insists, hands setting about Loki's shoulders. "All I ask is that I know this secret you keep."

Feigning worry, the prince of lies turns, speaks softly, "It is Lady Sif." Thor's eyes grow wide. "She has spoken in confidence; told me that, were you quite as much a prince as a warrior, she might..."

"Might what?!"

"Have means as to... speak to you of courtship."

Thor's eyes widen, his jaw slackened and rendered speechless. Such a thing pleases Loki, as his brother often has far too much to say.

He plays again at worry, ushering Thor close. "You cannot utter word of this to anyone," he says. "Do not misunderstand: I do not fear the Lady Sif, but I gave my word, and now you must do the same."

The young god merely nods and turns away, the expression upon his face that of deep thought, which, Loki was sure, Thor did not often engage in willingly.

Quietly, and quite by surprise, the door opens for Sif and the Warriors Three, Volstagg bellowing hearty congratulations to the brothers on the celebration of their parents' lasting marriage. Thor offers his thanks, turns to Hogun and Fandral the same, and stops as Sif approaches, a sincere smile upon her face.

"It is a great accomplishment," she says, touching his arm. "I hope you will accept my congratulations as well."

As Thor nods, eyes wide yet again, Loki turns away in a false fit of coughing to hide his laughter. Oh, how easily Thor is fooled. Yet, these tricks never quite lose their charm.

The elder prince moves away from the lady warrior, quietly excuses himself, and walks out of the room, trying his best to appear right and proper as the son of a great king should.

"What in Asgard has gotten into Thor?" Sif inquires, staring after him in surprise.

Loki casts her a glance and rolls his shoulders, that smile pulling at his lips. "I honestly have no idea."