"I never regretted it," he answers, a little defensive edge in his voice, lest she judge him for his overindulgence, even though it was years before they'd ever met. "No matter if I remembered the night before or not. Those were... they were good days. I miss them."

The days, the friends... take your pick.

There's something damp on his cheek as he reaches reflexively for the water, takes a deep drink and silently curses it for not being mead. The glass lets out a low thud as he sets it down, a small tremor in his hand. "That's what they're doing now," he says, absently crumbling a piece of cheese in his hands. "Drinking away eternity in Valhalla."