Prometheus laughs a little at the question. "There are a lot of people I like better than Zeus," he points out. "It's not because of the lightning." Well, not entirely. He pauses a moment, then leans in and confesses, "Zeus has the power to smite me with his wrath. That's what makes me uncomfortable. There's not much that can touch me besides that."

It's not something he normally shares, but the warmth of the mead and Thor's own vulnerable state had made his tongue looser than usual. "Anyway, you've met Steropes. He's like a big, one-eyed puppy. He can make lightning bolts for Zeus, but not literal lightning, no."

Then he laughs again, more heartily. "Olympus," he says. "You know what, the next time I'm here, I'm giving you a book on Greek mythology. It's not fair for me to have such an advantage, when the only thing you know about me is that some nun tried to get frisky with me a few hundred years ago."