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“And then, out of nowhere, Loki appears with one dagger!”
“Two, and they were throwing knives,” I amended, voice flat with boredom.
Volstagg was retelling a great, heroic tale of “Thor and The Warriors Three”, a usual occurrence at gatherings. Meanwhile, I sat by and corrected every single error of his tale - in fact, beating the rest to do so, with a goblet of mead glued to my hand.
“Yes, yes! Two throwing knives!” Volstagg corrected himself. “And at least ten- No, fifteen- No, twenty men surrounding him!”
With a sigh, I corrected, “Seven. There were seven men.”
The group laughed at hearing the correction, knowing just how much Volstagg loved to exaggerate.
Volstagg easily brushed off the laughter, continuing with his story, “Loki was surrounded. Faced with the impossible. He threw one dagger-”
“Throwing knife,” I muttered under my breath.
“And then the other throwing knife. Both deadly in their aim,” Volstagg continued. Loki waited for the moment to turn.
“Then-” Volstagg paused for suspense, “suddenly, one is slammed down by the mighty Mjölnir!” The group raised their goblets high in the air with cheers as the great mighty Thor was introduced once again. Their cheer was loud, loud enough that no one heard me groan. Or so I thought.
Everly, who had been sitting beside me, leaned towards me, softly speaking in my ear, “Loki, we don’t have to stay if you don’t want to. I’d rather hear your stories than theirs.”
With a soft smile, I kissed her, graciously, upon her forehead, then stood up and announced our leave. Once outside the doors of the Great Hall, I wrapped an arm around her, kissing the top of her head, and said, “Thank you, my Love. I don’t know what I ever did without you.”