Arm-Wrestling

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They had arrived back at the Tower around ten minutes ago, and Savannah was sitting cross-legged on her bed, enjoying her promised crumpets and hot chocolate.

'Okay,' she said, still sceptical, 'Supposing that this did have the density you said it did, how was I able to hold it?'

'I used magic on it.'

'So how were they able to hold it?'

'They are surprisingly strong. My brother was once foolish enough to challenge their weakest to an arm-wrestling competition. His arm was in a sling for two months.'

'I don't believe that. I thought that you had superior healing abilities.'

'We do. If not for them, he would probably have had to have it amputated.'

'Ouch,' she said, wincing, 'Did he cry?'

' That is a rather strange question to ask. What do you mean?'

'Well, the first time I met him, he was boasting that he'd only cried twice in his life.'

'Yes. He cried then, although he tried to pretend that it hadn't happened. He was lucky the Warriors Three weren't there, or worse, Sif.'

'I take it that Sif doesn't approve of tears.'

'You would be correct in assuming so.'

'It must have really hurt.'

'What hurt?'

'Thor's arm.'

'It probably did. But not as much as it would have had I not used a pain numbing spell on him.'

'That was good of you.'

'It was, wasn't it?' Loki seemed very proud of himself.

'What was the second time?'

'Second time?'

'Yes, the second time Thor cried.'

'I told him that Odin was dead.'

Savannah looked at him, shocked for a second, before slapping him hard across the face, and pointing to the door.

As he left the room, Loki admitted to himself that he had deserved that.

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