You stared at yourself in the mirror, arms held out slightly from your body as your servant tugged at and straightened your clothes. You'd been betrothed to the prince of Asgard while he was on Midgard doing some kind of Midgard-related business, and the wedding was to be whenever it was that he returned. He'd come back two nights ago with his traitor brother in tow, and the wedding was to take place this evening. You'd admit, you were nervous at the thought of being sold off as a political agreement to someone you'd never met, especially someone as notoriously hot-headed as the son of Odin.
"There, now. Look how nice you look." Your servant said, stepping out from behind you, hands clasped in front of her. She'd been taking care of you since you were tiny, and her eyes were glassy with tears of pride at how well you'd grown up.
You stepped off the platform in front of the mirror, grinning at her, and took her hand, patting it to calm her. "Thanks. For everything." You said, meeting her eyes before you kissed her on the cheek.
She seemed to take that as a sign to straighten up and get on with things, as she sniffled and shoved you playfully by one shoulder. "Alright now, enough of that softness, you got a wedding to be at. Yours, if I'm not mistaken." She laughed and patted you on the back. "C'mon now. Time for you to meet your handsome new husband."
It wasn't long until you were standing at the closed door of the great hall, this time on your own. You nodded at the guard standing by, who gave you a reassuring smile but remained silent. This was something you were going to have to do on your own. The doors swung open and you were paralyzed for a moment at the amount of people in that room who turned to stare directly at you. Your attention was caught, however, by the huge blond at the front of the room. His eyes locked with yours, and the expression on his face knocked the breath out of you. After the moment it took to restart your brain, you started moving slowly toward the front of the room where his king and his son stood, your eyes never leaving Thor's. Once you got to him, he took your hands gently in his.
"Hello." He said softly, the smile not leaving his face. His voice was low and rough, but there was a kindness in it that you weren't totally expecting. The ceremony passed in a surreal, dreamy sort of half-awareness. You spoke when you needed to, fulfilling your part of the tradition as was necessary, and before you knew it people were cheering and your lips were met by slightly chapped but surprisingly soft ones. When you broke away, you were met with an excited grin and your heart swelled with happiness. Maybe this wouldn't be so frightening after all.
—-
You woke in an unfamiliar place, which was alarming in the short moments before you remembered what had happened. Your head ached vaguely from drinking, but you remembered dancing and laughing and a large, warm hand covering yours nearly the entire night. In fact, that same hand was now tucked firmly against your breastbone, connected to the arm flung over your waist, which was, in turn, connected to the very large man who was nestled against your back.
You let out a content sigh as a whiskered cheek nuzzled the back of your neck, which turned into a surprised sound at the realization that you were both very naked. You squirmed in a weak attempt to get away, not wanting to wake him up not only because he was likely at least as hung over as you were and that would be rude, but also because you didn't want him to become aware enough of your naked body to be disappointed in its imperfections. He was a prince, after all, and had probably had many partners more fit and more attractive than you. Your squirm roused him enough for his grip on you to loosen slightly, and when you moved away from him his eyes blinked slowly open.
"Mmm. Good morning." He murmured, his arm staying wrapped around your waist, although you had moved enough that he could look you in the face. He smiled and kissed your jaw, little more than a soft brush of lips. At the slightly nervous shift of your eyes and the way you ducked your face so you didn't have to make eye contact with him, a small wrinkle made its way between his eyebrows. "Is something wrong?" His voice was still quiet, his blue eyes trying to meet your [e/c] ones.
"No, no." You said quickly to put him at ease, a hand moving to the side of his face. He leaned into your touch like an affectionate cat, and your heart lept in your chest. Despite the fact that you'd only met last night, he genuinely seemed to care about you. Of all the men you could have been sold to, your parents had chosen not only a prince, but a gentleman as well. "Nothing wrong." You flushed slightly at the smile that returned to his face. "Just…just worried that once the thrill of the wedding night wore off that…" You looked away from him. "That you wouldn't…want me anymore."
The silence lengthened between you two and you started cursing your blabbermouth. You should have just kept quiet. A large index finger caught your chin and attempted to tilt your face to look at him, but you resisted.
"[y/n]…[y/n], look at me." His voice was very, very serious now, but with a softness in it that compelled you to look up to where he was hovering over you, more protective than threatening. His eyes were warm and carefully searching yours. "You are mine now, as I am yours. From now until death do us part, if you'll recall." He said, his voice so low that it was almost a whisper.
You nodded, your cheeks tinging pink at the weight of the attention he was showing you. Your lips pursed into a thin line, not thinking it wise to protest. He noticed, and pressed his lips very lightly against yours, as if to ease the tension he found there. It took a moment for you to kiss him back, but once you did he slid his tongue softly along the seam of your lips until you opened them with a soft sigh. He kissed you thoroughly, with a tenderness that melted all of your nervousness away, and when he pulled away you were breathless.
He gave you a small smile that you returned this time, and then pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead. "Do not ever think I wouldn't want you, [y/n]. Not ever."