If only they'd yield
A brief author's note here: I modeled this after a song called "What Causes That" from a play called Crazy for You. If you haven't seen it check it out on YouTube and this whole thing will make a lot more sense.
Graverobber stood behind the bar lazily cleaning glasses with a dirty rag. The bar was empty but it was still early in the night and besides the customers who really needed to be there wouldn't arrive until it was nearly closing time anyway.
"But I suppose that's what you'd expect of fallen princes. Never on time, but never late." Graverobber looked up and smirked. "Welcome to our story. I'll admit a bit of a more relaxed pace than our previous encounter but what can I say? While I still enjoy the occasional foray into draining zydrate I've found this bar a much more reliable source of income." His hands splayed and he gave a short bow, glass and rag still in hand. "But surely you didn't come here for my story tonight. No, I think you came here to hear the woes of two princes, each ripped from their rightful thrones." He stood. "But sit, the night is too young and both our boys won't get here until nearly dawn. Won't you have a drink until then?"
. . .
"You seem to be in luck tonight. Here come your princes now, and neither of them looks to be in his right mind." Graverobber whispers in your ear, pointing to the entrance of the bar where a tall man with pointed ears and milk white skin stands before descending in to the bar. Followed shortly behind by a slightly taller man with hair like a ravens wing and eyes as green as a summer forest. "Our stage is set, the players all here. Let our story begin." The room darkens except for the two of them and you find yourself unable to speak.
The pair of them take the only available seats in the bar, sharing a table with the other man. Nodding at each other they signaled for Graverobber to bring them a bottle each. With a smirk Graverobber grabbed two full bottles of rye and set them down on the table before the men.
As though in a contest to see who could forget their worries first the men began to drink, throwing back shot after shot of the amber liquid. Both of them draining half their respective bottles before slowing down enough to look at the man on the other side of the table.
. . .
"Humanity." The paler of the two men reached for his bottle and shakily filled nearly to the brim before downing it in a single gulping shot. Quite drunk he hiccupped the other man reaching across and filling the glass again with a smirk.
"Humanity." The darker haired sat back and threw his own shot down his throat, his body moving with the grace of one who is already three sheets to the wind.
"Picky, picky, picky." They both leaned forward, wriggling their hands in the air.
"They're so full of trickery…. Life is bitter as chicory. Bitterness fills my cup." Nuada said.
"I'm sorry you brought that up… Once I thought I'd search around for the little throne around the corner, but now I see." Loki leaned forward conspiratorially towards the other man.
"It never was meant to be." Both men said and threw back another shot.
"Once they used to fear me." Nuada's chest puffed out in pride as he spoke.
"Why are they so high hat?" Loki crossed his arms across his chest and huffed.
"Boy, do they amaze me." Nuada's voice was filled with grudging admiration.
"Tell me what causes that?!" The pair of them said in tandem nearly falling out of their chairs.
"When I'm away from them I start despairing." Loki said quietly as though he was ashamed of that fact.
"You ought to know by now what causes that!" Nuada said shaking his finger at the other man.
"I got a pretty good idea." Loki leaned forward and grabbed another shot of his drink.
"Me too." Nuada followed Loki's example and took a swig straight off his bottle. "I'm growing balder from the hair I'm tearing." He picked up a strand of white blond hair and twirled it in his fingers.
"You ought to know by now what causes that!" Loki leaned forward and gently wrapped the soft hair around his finger before sitting back and letting it glide across his hand.
"When they keep on brushing you aside, oh gosh, you're all at sea! You go contemplating suicide- It's much too much for me!" Their chairs tipped and they both flailed to get back to level. "You're not so dumb that you don't know the answer. Wanting them is what causes that!"
"If I should climb the Brooklyn Bridge and jump off." Nuada climbed on top of his chair, wobbling and made as if to swan-dive, taking a draw off the bottle in his hand as he did.
"Wait! You could hurt yourself!" Loki reached for Nuada's wrist and pulled him backwards, forcing him to sit again.
"That's the idea!" Nuada put his hand on Loki's chest and used the other man to help steady himself as he got down.
"Oh I'd suppose you'd ask what causes that?" Loki laughed and still standing, grabbed his bottle pointing it at the other man. "If I should get a gun and bump this chump off."
"Point that thing the other way!" Nuada's laugh was louder than it should have been as he reached across the pushed Loki's bottle back towards Loki, the alcohol lessening his inhibitions. "Oh I suppose you'd ask what causes that."
"Really you don't have to mope around and burn up as you do. There's a cannon and a rope around, there's lots of poison too!" The pair of them playfully made as if to kill the other and then broke apart howling with laughter. "I'm very blue of late and there's a reason"
"Wanting them…" Nuada crooned.
"Wanting them…" Loki met his note with a dissonant cord.
"Is what causes that." They both leaned in close and sang to each other. "Is what causes that… is what causes…" the pair of them stumbled and fell back into their respective seats. "that."