Mischief In Progress.
[The throne room is enormous, of course. It is used for banquets and official gatherings almost daily. For the same reason it is also extremely impressive, covered in gold and platinum, precious stones and rare wood from all nine realms, finely worked by the most ancient dwarven craftsmen. It is polished from floor to ceiling so that one can barely see without squinting when the sun shines upon it. The great, sweeping steps isolate the cavernous room for the masses and guests from the center of attention, a huge, golden throne. It is easily big enough for a full-grown Jotunn to sit upon, but it never seems to dwarf the All-Father when he sits upon it. Loki himself has never graced its seat, except for as a very small child whilst sitting on his father's lap. At the moment, though, there is nothing to stop that from changing. It is the middle of the day, and thus the throne room is completely empty. Loki's steps echo as he strides confidently toward the throne, leading Sigyn by the hand and grinning madly.]