For Asgard!

Loki was supremely startled, which was a difficult thing to accomplish - yet Sif had managed it. In all of her earnesty, and in that kind-heartedness she so rarely displayed, for a moment he was at a loss for words. These instances came to him sometimes in extreme duress, like when Thor said something particularly hurtful, but rarely had he been startled into silence by so simple an action as Sif reaching out and taking his hand. To offer such a touch was one thing, as he had done earlier, with little difficulty; but to receive it, especially one so forward and plain like taking his hand, was unexpected to say the least, harder to understand.

In response, all Loki really wanted to do was reassure her, as she seemed to take his hand in a moment of her own distress. It took him a moment to realize she had already let go, and was drinking the wine, before he even managed to think of a response. "I'll do my best to remember that," he said slowly. He was trying to separate the words in his head, from the description of his future to Sif's apparent response to it. He would not have expected her to cling and yet, from what she said, it seemed like she may have done it all the same.

He glanced up at the aforementioned light. "It does favour you," he said. "Though I should say you favour your surroundings more." The flattery - so close to flirtation - tripped off of his lips before he could stop it, not that he particularly wanted to. He wanted her to hear something nice. He wasn't sure if she realized she had just done similar to him.