As Thor sings, and Sif finds her voice in the familiar parts, the tight knot of grief in his chest uncoils a little, letting him breathe easier. A small smile starts to linger on his lips, and whether it's the drink or the company or just the comfort of familiar ritual, it doesn't really matter in the end. Nothing will take the burden from him fully, nothing but time and patience, but it helps to have another to shoulder it with him for a while.

Perhaps for the first time since Ragnarok, it occurs to Thor to be grateful that their friends were ushered to Valhalla together. The Warriors Three, together in all their adventures, even beyond the golden gates of the heavenly mead-hall. If their end had to come, better that they can keep each other company on the other side than to leave one lingering behind.

Thor squeezes her hand, grateful that he is not left alone either. "Maybe it was Fate that you found this place, or just a coincidence, but I'm glad you're here with me, Sif. I think our friends would be, too." There's a comfortable silence for a moment, and he looks into the flames, lost in thought. "It's going to be difficult, moving on without them. But we'll see them again, someday, if the Norns are willing."