Thor did not always notice so instantaneously when something was wrong, but this time it was as obvious as a scream when he burst into the feasting hall. The tip of his favourite play-sword wilted to the floor as soon as the problem hit him.
His little brother's short legs swung well above the ground, at the knees. And rhythmically, as if taunting Thor. Father was saying something to him, so Loki's dinner – a seedcake, dribbles of stew with lumps of vegetables, some shiny purple berries – was being completely ignored.
The obnoxious nerve of his brother made Thor's eyes narrow as he marched towards him and tapped his small shoulder. A lock of black hair fell over Loki's left eye as he turned to look up at Thor. Mother should really cut his hair.
Thor informed him: "You're in my spot."
Outrageously, Loki merely looked puzzled.
"What do you mean it's your spot?"
Thor sighed, frustrated. "I always sit there, remember?"
More bafflement on his brother's silly face. "But this isn't your chair…"
But it was that corner of the table, because that corner was right next to –
"I always sit beside Father at dinner." Apparently Loki needed it spelled out for him more slowly. Thor could not believe he had to explain this. Furthermore, he could not fathom how Father could simply watch the exchange wordlessly, almost looking amused. Very well. Thor would solve this himself.
"But I want to try sit here now. Can't I?"
Thor was horrified. "No."
"I mean just once, just tonight! I'm already here!"
"No."
"It's my turn if you always sit here!" Defiance was rising in Loki's voice, which needled at Thor's indignation even more.
"No…!" Thor felt a whine starting to tinge the edge of his own words.
Mother was suddenly there, stooping behind Thor. "Boys, it doesn't matter who sits where – " There was that warning tone in her voice that normally gave them both pause, but Thor refused to let it sway him just yet. Loki was in his spot.
Thor would solve this himself. He still held his play-sword.
They sat side by side at the otherwise deserted long table, both glaring.
The only sounds in the colossal hall were the tiny chinks of their cutlery. Loki's hair was even more tousled over his forehead after the scuffle. Mother and Father had eventually overruled Thor's own measures at righting the matter, sending them both away to eat their dinner together after the other diners had left.
Clink, clink. Gulp, clink.
"This is your fault," one said.
Clink, chew, clink.
"You're stupid," the other retorted.
They kept glaring as they ate.
(The woman smiled warmly as she seated herself beside him. As Thor had grown up, women's smiles seemed to have grown warmer, to both Fandral's dismay and teasing. Thor returned the greeting, but said, as politely as he could, "My apologies, Alva, my brother was already sitting there."
"No I wasn't," Loki said after she had moved away. Thor just shrugged. He didn't know why.)
