A/N: I'm so grateful to Maria Chester for her suggestions and input to this story. It truly keeps the story fresh! Once again, I own nothing except this plot. And Happy Fathers' Day.
The golden arch over the doors welcomed the visitors. Loki waved his hand toward them. The Doctor raised his eyebrows as he took in the area.
"Oh, my."
The great wooden doors groaned open to midnight halls. They were not truly dark, for torches shone from sconces every few feet; however, the contrast to the sun's majesty blinded the couple. River squinted, and saw Loki stride on past the first two lights.
"Come on, Doctor. Let's keep up. He has his own shadow still."
He studied the hallway from the doorway, then he pulled out his screwdriver and clicked it a few times. Nodding in relief, the Doctor grabbed her hand. "I see nothing! Okay, these are your normal, average shadows. Shall we?"
The Doctor stepped in and stopped again. River gave him a quizzical look as she stood in front of the next lamp, just in case. He waved his hand, dismissing her concern. "Alright, alright. This area is clear. I'm just letting my eyes adjust to the room. Did you notice the way the torchlight makes patterns before your eyes?"
"Not particularly."
The Doctor 'tsked.' He caught sight of the flicker of torches jumping at any breeze. Their shadows created the appearance of a person turning a corner before vanishing from sight. He saw the image of a lady tossing her hair, then a short man hopping with his knees directly under him. "It's ornate and in a way, touching. This planet brings out the poet in me."
They strode side by side up to Prince Loki; the Doctor gave him a winning smile, nodding to proceed. The prince led them into a brighter corridor, where they all could see a lavish feasting hall. He insisted they sit down in the middle of the oval table, as his guests. He takes the last seat at the long table beside Queen Frigga. River bobbed a quick curtsy to the queen.
A foursome, three men and a lady, appeared and began to fill in the remaining seats at the table. Loki stood up straight. "Good evening, warriors. What brings you here?"
The rotund red giant beamed eagerly at him, answering with the question, "Where is Thor? He never fails to appear for a meal."
"Ah, of course you came to inquire after Thor," Loki muttered to himself. The next sentence he spoke louder for the sake of those at the table. "He is receiving treatment for a setback he had today."
The blond man's eyebrows shot up. "Did he fall wounded in the hunt today?"
"Not at all, Fandral. He was put up by some treats meant to sate his voracious hunger. Thor should be set to rights shortly," Loki assured him.
He gestured to the group and spoke to the Doctor and River. "My friends, allow me to introduce you to Fandral, the Lady Sif, Hogun, and Volstaag. They are friends of Thor. All of you, please allow me to introduce you to my friends. This is the Doctor, a man with astounding abilities and his stunning bride, River. Apologies, Warriors Three and Sif, but you shall have to do without the primary prince's company for now, yet perhaps he shall not miss all the celebrating at this feast."
Volstaag puffed out his barrel chest. "I should hope not. If he does not show his face, I will visit him!"
Servants placed the first course, salad, before the royal family before serving the rest of the room. In the middle of the room, a great table held all for the townspeople to choose from in a buffet style.
The Doctor smiled with anticipation at his bowl of greens. Most people surrounding him shook some oil on their food and dug in. He sampled a lettuce square, swallowed, and frowned.
River leaned over to study his plate. "Is something the matter with the salad?"
"No, no. Not really, but this could use a little extra flavor."
"Is there something wrong, my lord?" The servant hovered over the Doctor's left shoulder.
"Yes, perhaps it is nothing, but do you have any custard?"
The servant nodded.
"Aye. We hold it in the cellars in readiness for dessert. Do you often eat the foods in reverse on your realm?"
"No, not often, though it sounds like it would be fun. Haven't you ever wondered what it would be like to douse a salad in a healthy dollop of custard? No? That is unfortunate. C'mon, be adventurous! Take it from me, fish fingers and custard can be a perfect meal."
Now, the servant looked perturbed. "Forgive me, my lord, but I have never heard of such a blend. The custard will be brought in at the customary desserttime, good sir. I could bring you a small bowl to spare, but none of the fish caught in this realm have ever had fingers." Looking kind of spooked, the servant bowed, backed up, and hurried away to fetch the unusual salad topping.
The Doctor smiled at River. He leaned in to confide in her. "You know, River, your mother got me into quite a liking for fish sticks and custard. It is a delicious combination. We really should start a new custom to place it before visitors! Or plop a good sized serving of it before my friends."
"Sweetie, I do not think that would be wise."
"Rubbish. It could be fun."
He leaned back in his seat when the promised bowl of custard landed in front of him. He dumped the contents on his salad and raised his fork. Before tucking in, he caught River's eye again. "It isn't the kind of fare I had anticipated, but it will do. Geronimo." He crunched into the lettuce, but the gooey custard made the green leaves sloppy, too slippery to hang on the utensil. He had to lean over his bowl and use the fork to guide other bites into his mouth.
Sif frowned. "Ger-on-imo? What manner of word is that? I have never heard of it, and I traveled to six other realms in the last century."
"Hmm? Oh, well, 'Geronimo' isn't exactly an average word. It is my word. I use it when I'm embarking on a new experience. Helps bolster my courage. Especially if my companions think my plan is complete rubbish, then I must jump in with both feet."
"I see." Sif nodded, focusing entirely on him. "I was not certain what to think of Loki's guests. He has…made me wary."
"What do you mean?"
"I shall try to explain without malice. Loki has a more common name—the Trickster. He forms mirages to guide us into something that puzzles us. He makes immaterial copies of his shape at will and causes troubles, sometimes while we sleep so we do not suspect him as he works."
Prince Loki turned his head when he heard his name, then fixed his attention on his food as though he had merely heard an insect buzzing at his ear.
Dinner went through two more courses. Bowls of soup were placed before each dinner guest. The servants had just laid out large plates of meat when Thor reappeared.
Cheers around the Doctor shook him out of his thoughts.
Sif called in pleasant surprise, "Thor! Are you well?"
"I am," he replied. "The healers served me a bitter draught before I left their company but now I feel fit to slay a full-grown Bilgesnipe now!"
Loki raised his eyebrows, muttering, "Of course. The Norns forbid that he should miss his favorite part of the meal." The four warriors rose and welcomed their friend.
When offered her choice of meat, River chose a slice of pheasant breast with cranberries. The Doctor's plate held fillets of rainbow salmon, sprinkled with crunchy nuts and another spoonful of custard as a garnish. He cleaned his plate within fifteen minutes.
The same servant returned. "Did that suffice for your meal of choice, my lord?"
"Yes, yes, yes. Splendid. I'm the Doctor, though, you may call me Time Lord. It is one of my titles, after all."
He received a nod and a bow, then fell to eating.
"Come! Tell us how the hunt went." Volstaag wiped his mouth and sat back, replete, yet eager to hear a tale of food.
Thor smiled, drank half his tankard of ale, and proceeded to tell of the venture. He spoke of the disappointment he'd felt when he thought the young Bildgesnipe had escaped, only to learn that for once Loki had used his magic to Thor's benefit.
He waited until most plates were half-emptied before he leaned toward Thor. "So, Thor, did you get laid up during the hunt?"
"No! Once we made the forest's edge, we met…"
He regaled his friends with the story of how the prey was released so he could challenge and defeat a bull in another country. Soon, he was enthusiastically waxing eloquent about the possibility of in-the-moment trips anywhere in all the Realms via TARDIS instead of the BiFrost.
Quickly, the bull fight became one of Volstaag's favorite tales. "I do love a story that involves food. Would that I had seen you in action, Thor. I would love to fight such bold animals by your side."
The Doctor chuckled at his enthusiasm. "Oh, no, mind where you'd go. The universe is full of creatures you wouldn't like to meet. For example, don't sample the Svoorak's liquor. One sip will knock you out for five years. That's how they imprison you for the rest of your life and they appear to be a peaceful culture. Don't let them deceive you."
Fandral chuckled. "Yes. Deceit is Loki's game. He knows it well, yet didn't make mischief today when you needed to fight, Thor; unlike that time he had had to expand a woman's wedding dress to fit you so you could recover Mjölnir!
"No matter. One good turn deserves another." He raised his tankard. "I declare a toast to Loki, the most clever huntsman today."
Volstaag began the answering cheer and downed his ale with a 'glug.'
The Doctor rose to take a quick walk to the balcony after sipping his water. He waved away all servants who offered to hop up and bring some new delicacy to him.
He insisted, "I need to move and stretch my legs along the hall for a few minutes."
While he was away, Fandral slipped into the vacated seat near River. "Greetings, fair lady! I am Fandral the Dashing, one of Thor's best friends, who has guarded his back in battle and peace. Would you drink some wine with me?"
"Thank you, but I wager that you have tried that offer on many other people. Go charm the pants off of them, why don't you? My husband will be returning soon, so I suggest you leave his chair ready for him now."
"Oh! Here is a rare wit I have never met. Such a pity we must part when we were just introduced."
"Go on, Flashy Boy. Sharpen your sword on a whetstone, not just on ladies' wits, and you may find its sharpness lasts longer."