A/N ((Takes place outside of the events of Thor, I wanted to explore a darker possibility on the characters and custom's of their culture.))
Gold eyes brimming with unshed tears Isabella looked to her twin in the mirror, identical in every way save for the delicate scar just beneath Sonya's chin. Hands making swift work of the lilac colored tresses she wove the unruly hair with nimble fingers, fashioning a fishtail braid over one shoulder. Swallowing the painful lump in her throat she looked out the window the thunderous crash of the storm making the knowledge of their circumstances all the more disheartening.
"Sonya, I am afraid. Asgard is leagues away I will never see you again!"
Kissing her cheek Sonya wrapped her arms around her from behind, hugging the young woman tight.
"Nonsense. I will see you at the Harvest celebration next season…I promise I will be there."
Watching the servants carry the trunks out of the room Sonja did her best to sooth her sibling's frazzled nerves. All their lives they'd had one another and now it was all changing. Their lives were being ripped apart, all for the choices of men.
"There's been no time to prepare, surely you can convince Father to postpone?" She asked desperately.
Sonya wished that were possible but she'd already tried and failed miserably. There would be no swaying their father's decision his will steadfast in its conviction. A cold and heartless man he cared nothing for his children's happiness. The lord's words still blistering against Sonja's ears.
"I have suffered and warred with you long enough. I am doing what is best for this family. Unlike you, Isabella is obedient and will do as she is told. I've had enough of your willful and spiteful nature. It would be a great dishonor to have sent you…You've caused this family enough shame."
Floored by their father's cruelty, seeing it truly knew no bounds she had fought foolishly for her sisters honor.
"What of Izzy? You deliver her to that monster like a lamb fit for slaughter! You would separate her from the only family she has all so you can be held in high favor by the royal family. She does not love him; she does not even know him!"
The outburst had cost her dearly, the deep purple bruising marring her cheek evidence of their father's wrath.
"You will hold your tongue, least I cut it from your defiant mouth for treason! Foolish girl, the Prince does not want Isabella for something as frivolous as love. This match is being made out of need, not want. I am doing her a favor by separating the two of you, least your poisonous thoughts infect her as well."
Defeated she had felt the ugly sting of failure long after the bruises had vanished.
Clinging to her, Sonya kissed her sister innocently on the lips.
"Just be yourself, remember to be sweet and he will see your light…he will see what a great honor it is to call you his wife."
Fingers clutching the back of her gown Isabella buried her face against Sonya's shoulder.
"I always dreamed I would fall in love…the way you did with John. Mother never would have wanted this."
Rubbing soothing circles on her back Sonya closed her eyes, his name stirring painful memories.
"You will grow to care for him Izzy…one day. Be brave sweet sister; be brave and strong for me."
The chiming of the bells in the courtyard marked the hour. Breaking apart Sonya wiped at her siblings tears. Willing her twin to stand she smoothed the layers of her skirts and helped her in to her fur-lined cloak. As if on cue their father crossed the threshold of their chamber his steel gaze raking over the two women with icy indifference. Snapping his fingers he gave the wordless command for Isabella to come two steps towards him she risked one last glance to her lifelong companion and it was then that Isabella realized this was most likely goodbye. Sonya unable to hide the look of anguish in her eyes could only turn away, hands clasped to her chest.
Even when the pair of them had left Sonya could not bring herself to move. Instead she stared off through the open window watching the dark figures of their horses until they had vanished from sight. The connection they shared pulling taunt, a thin thread on the verge of breaking. The fleeting sensation growing dimmer until it was the barest of whispers.
Be brave for me, she thought helplessly.
Be brave and strong for me.
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At her father's insistence their party rode straight through the storm, choosing to ignore the vicious whipping winds and seemingly eternal downpour. Chin tucked against her chest Isabella urged her horse forward shielding her eyes from the spitting rain, legs and back aching as the animal lumbered on. It was another hour before their guide could be heard shouting through the thunder. After a two-day trek they'd finally arrived at the gates of Asgard, the gleaming golden city a sight to behold even in the dismal weather.
Passing through the gates she marveled at the city's decadence, the vast richness of its lands. As they approached the palace her exhaustion was quickly replaced by the hushed fear of the unknown. She was a stranger to these people, someone well-regarded in suspicion and half formed opinions. By the barely veiled whispers of the servants as they dismounted their horses she knew they were judging her already. Still wearing the fashions of her homelands her attire was severely modest concealed from the collar-bone down, body hidden beneath layers of thick fabric that reached well past the ankles.
A tedious task to assemble, it normally took two servants alone to help her dress and with the fabric drenched it was made impossibly heavier causing the bone lining of the corset to dig sharply against the ribs. Only years of rigorous etiquette prevented her from uttering a single murmur of discomfort. Weakness was not tolerated in their family and Isabella knew if she embarrassed her father now there would be worse things than an ill-matched marriage.
Despite being told she would not see her betrothed until the ceremony it didn't stop Isabella from searching the faces of those waiting in the grand entryway. Not that she could have identified him anyway, having only been told the most minimal of details she could anticipate nothing. An older woman dressed in regal attire came forward; long honey colored hair braided over one shoulder her golden eyes shimmering with intrigue. Smile growing the Queen boldly peeled back the cloaks hood exposing Isabella's face to the room.
The gasp from the Asgardian's drew a hush over the room, the Queen happily breaking the silence.
Turning to study him it didn't take much to assume the girls features favored the mother. Tall and broad-shouldered Cormack was younger than her husband, hair a deep brown it had a fair peppering of grey along the edges of his temple. A sinister air of authority surrounded him, old world blood.
"My, my. Your descriptions do not do her justice Lord Cormack, for shame. I was expecting someone more cowed and frail looking. She is in fact quite the opposite." Frigga exclaimed taking the end of Isabella's braid she tested the silky texture between her fingers.
Cormack's indifferent stare shifted to something his daughter could only describe as awkward concern though it was clearly not intended for her.
"My word is my bond; I do not make contracts such as this lightly I assure you Isabella will not disappoint."
The Queen raised her brows at Cormack's words, before making a rather humiliating show of inspecting the girl's features. Taking her thumb she ran it along the girl's lower lip exposing her white teeth before she was satisfied.
"She is pure then?"
Isabella felt her cheeks burn hot at the Queens inquiry she could only hope this degrading experience met its end soon rather than later.
"Do not insult me." Cormack replied vehemently his eyes narrowing.
Frigga held her hands up feigning apology.
"Then our contract is struck…She will be escorted to the guest chambers where she will begin her preparations and you Lord Cormack are surely famished after such a long journey. Come, let us celebrate the coming union of our two families.
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Within moments of entering the room Isabella found the torturous experience was only beginning. Sitting now in a tub filled nearly to the brim she was at the mercy of the chamber maids as one of them combed a bone brush through her long hair, the sharp tugging motion causing her to wince. They'd taken her soaked dress, boots and gloves and promptly thrown them in the grand marble fireplace, along with the rest of the few items she possessed. Now they were nothing more than cinder and ash. A token from Sonya, a small locket the only thing she'd managed to save. Fighting tooth and nail to deny them the satisfaction of taking as well. They had not been pleased; she was paying for it now.
The eldest of the maids, a girl only a few years older than Isabella herself sneered down at her.
"You people from the East are nothing more than filthy half-breed fey. The All-Father is truly desperate."
The girl sorting through new gowns on the bed hissed towards the woman.
"Half-breed or not, leave the girl be. The queen hears you speaking like that and she'll have us both whipped."
The maid rolled her eyes, forcing the brush roughly against Isabella's scalp working through a non-existent tangle. The woman who had spoken was tall, with brown eyes her hair pulled into a simple bun high atop her head. Finally deciding on a gown of pale shimmering blue she set it aside before coming to the tub waving the other woman away.
Once dressed Isabella sat beside the fire where the brown-eyed woman began styling her hair weaving a complicated braid across the crown of her head leaving the rest to dry in wavy curls down her back. She observed the way the golden eyed girl stared in to the flames the reflection glowing against her milky skin.
"Do not mourn the loss of your possessions…It is a wast of time."
Speaking for the first time since arriving Isabella's voice sounded tired.
"They were the only things I was permitted to take..."
The chamber maid sighed.
"They were unfit for an Asgardian princess. You will be given new things; better things…see that you find a safe place to hide that trinket. They will not let you keep it if it is found."
Hand tightening around the small piece of metal Isabella turned to look at her.
"Why, it is doing no harm."
She was given a cool stare.
"It's a reminder of your old life, a distraction the Prince will not tolerate."
Isabella turned back towards the flickering flames as they finished consuming the last pieces of what was to be her forgotten past. Over and over again she replayed Sonya's words, praying that one day she would believe them.
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The Great Hall's chandeliers were lit brightly, the isle lined with guards in their ceremonial armor the royal court crowded behind them all eager to catch a glimpse of their new princess. Hushed whispers mixing with the soft aroma of sandalwood she made the long journey to the altar steps. Wearing a gown of shimmering gold the material clung to her body fanning out as it touched the marble floor. Vision blurred by the sheer veil embellished with topaz gemstones it cascaded down her shoulders and well past the hips. The wedding gown made of beautiful shimmering gold lace hugged her body the hemline fanning outward. Each step she took felt as if the choking fear would consume her as she came ever closer.
Approaching the altar Isabella was only able to distinguish the outline of what she could assumed was her future husband. Coming to stand beside him they were then instructed to kneel on the altar steps. With the blaring sounding of trumpets the All-Father himself came before them the Queen just off to the side, someone standing just beside her their hands clasped behind their back.
Isabella's own hands trembled in her lap as she willed them to calm she was taken by surprise when the Prince reached beneath the veil his head never turning he took her small delicate hand in his. There was a fleeting moment of tacit compassion before the seemingly tender grasp became crushingly strong. Forcing her gaze to remain forward she pressed her lips in to a thin line. An eternity passing before Odin was willing them to stand and the people of Asgard roared with thunderous applause. Turning towards the Prince, Isabella heart pounded against her chest as he released her hand and raising the veil up and over she was finally graced with the sight of the man she had been told to hold in the highest regard, to worship above all things.
Her Prince, her husband, her possessor.
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A/N ((Who should it be? Thor or Loki?))