There wasn't a fight. Not exactly. The throne room was completely gutted, statues and wall panels fallen over, gilt mirrors smashed, the throne once more destroyed. There were dead guards everywhere, laying in small pools of blood on the ground. Thor himself, in his full regalia with his streaming, heavy cloak, knelt in the centre of the room, back to the two new combatants. In front of him, sprawled on the stairs leading up to the dais, sat Loki as he was not, not Loki as the All-Father.

He wore a smirk, fingering an amulet hanging low around his neck.

"Only two? Where's the man of iron? Impressive trick, mortals that can fly. I'd like to see how well he'd do without his safety net." Loki lifted his hand and with a gutteral moan, Thor lurched to his feet and turned. "I believe you know my brother? He makes a fine champion does he not?"