[By : Durrant on AO3]
When Thor's beard had fully grown, no longer the straggly hairs of an adolescent, he decided that it was time that he set off on a quest.
"It is well past time," Thor said, tearing a piece of meat from the cooked bird in front of him at the Feasting Table, "We shall hunt bilgesnipe and capture them for ourselves, without the aid of any other warriors."
Loki snorted and reached to stab a piece of meat but Volstagg reached the bird before Loki could, pulling the whole carcass onto his plate.
"A noble quest, indeed," Loki said snidely, watching Thor's cheek redden as it always did when he thought Loki was complimenting him.
"Or, perhaps," Fandral leaned forward, twisting his newly grown moustache with his fingers. "We should hunt something pleasanter."
Volstagg stifled a sudden noise and coughed, again and again, until Hogun slapped him on the back and he spat out a hunk of half-eaten flesh.
"Pleasanter?" Thor asked in confusion, but Loki already had an inkling of what Fandral was suggesting. His stomach felt cold and he wanted to click his fingers and sever Fandral tongue from its root before he could spread his poison to Thor. "What could be pleasanter to hunt than bilgesnipe?"
Volstagg picked up his mead and eyed Thor.
"You have listened to the same tales that warriors tell as we have. How does every hunting story begin?"
Thor shook his head.
"Friend, you speak in riddles. Do you not wish to hunt bilgesnipe?"
"I do," Volstagg wiped his hand across his beard, cleaning off the flecks of food and mead that had caught there. "But this time, our first hunting trip, perhap we should aim for smaller, fairer prey."
At that Hogun grinned, finally understanding what the others were suggesting. Only Thor, naive and stupid Thor, remained ignorant.
"There is a tavern," Fandral said slowly, his wheedling voice pitched to be as persuasive as possible; how Loki yearned to pluck his moustache from his head, to make him scream and leave him as bare faced as a boy. "In the last village before the plains, where warriors stop to pass a comfortable night before the hunt begins."
"Aye?" Thor asked, nonplussed.
"I think, brother, your quest sounds highly entertaining. I shall accompany you," Loki said loftily. Thor turned to him at once, his innocent smile lighting his whole face until Loki wanted to smack it from his head. That smile belonged only to Loki, no other should see it.
"I didn't think that we are hunting that which you wished to catch," Volstagg muttered.
Loki sneered across the table at him but the others paid no mind to Volstagg's words. Thor remained as confused as ever and said nothing to defend Loki.
"And in this tavern," Fandral continued, raising his voice slightly to attract everyone's attention back to him. "They say that mead flows freely, the serving wenches are comely and the beds are warm."
Thor finally understood what his friends were suggesting; instead of a hunting trip they wanted to go to a remote tavern, drink themselves silly and fuck any bar wench that would have them. His mouth gaped open, and he looked quickly at Loki who plastered a smile on his face.
"Friends," Thor began, his eyebrows knitting in that way that indicated he was attempting deep thought. "Surely, for our first quest, we cannot return empty handed. Our honour would depend on bringing home the head of a beast."
