Notes: fyi, this story is rated PG-13 for now; this will very likely go up. ;D Based on a prompt over at norsekink on LJ. I've got a big chunk of the story already planned, but I'm hoping you wonderful readers will let me know if you like where it's going or otherwise, so I can tweak here and there as needed. I'll do my very best to reply to any comments/questions I get, although with summer courses and an upcoming 10-day summer holiday then fall classes starting, I might be scattered. Thanks for reading!
The palace was decked out in varying shades of greens and blues; it reminded Darcy of an aquatic theme she once had in her bedroom as a kid. Lights shone like heavenly beams breaking through the clouds, bringing out the dark honey highlights in her hair. She took a deep breath and tried to calm her racing heart.
"You've got this, Darce," she said to herself, sucking in a few more deep breaths for good measure. Her shaky hands ran down the soft crushed velvet of her bodice. Closing her eyes, she imagined herself lying in a sea of soft velvet, the scent of ocean waves taking her out to the middle of the water where she could hear nothing but sea birds and smell the briny air. A small smile found her lips and relaxed her pulse.
"My Lady," came a soft, tinkling voice.
She turned to acknowledge the young handmaiden, another calming breath followed by a bigger smile, prompting Alví to smile in return. "You should not worry; your groom will be enchanted the moment he lays eyes on you. Now come, we must make our way out."
Nodding and giving herself a pep talk under her breath, Darcy hitched the front of her gown up as Alví brought up the rear.
Their footsteps echoed almost magically through the cool blue corridors. Barely a sound could be heard except for the rhythmic clik-clak on the marble floors, and Darcy's occasional mutterings to herself.
The tall handmaid behind her shook her head in fond exasperation. She had gotten to know the Midgardian well, but her quicks were constantly intriguing her nonetheless. Despite her being slightly strange in their eyes, the Jötunn society welcomed Darcy with open arms. Her diplomatic skills had grown considerably in the last year; indeed, without her tempering words, Svartálfaheimr would now be at war with them. For now, thanks to the clever mortal, their secret was kept safe.
"Remember your lessons, My Lady."
Darcy stopped in her tracks and looked over her shoulder. "You mean the twenty-nine gruelling hours of wedding etiquette? Oh my god, no thank you. I just wanna get this over with. Please Alví, quit torturing me. Are we there yet?"
Her childish whine pulled a laugh from the tall handmaiden. "Yes, we are nearly there. Just through this doorway and you will need to pause. Your escort will join you and I shall await you at the fore of the hall." She ran her cobalt blue fingers affectionately across Darcy's shoulders, ending in a squeeze. "You will do well, I am sure of it. Simply recall who awaits you at the end."
That evoked a smile that lit up Darcy's eyes. She nodded nervously and turned face-forward. Her shoulders lifted and dropped, then she was ready. Another few steps and she paused as she felt more than heard Alví depart and another come up beside her.
"Reginn," she practically sighed. Beaming at the tall Jötunn to her right, she lifted her hand to rest in the crook of his proffered arm.
"Lady Darcy, you look stunning. Are you ready?" His warm carmine eyes gave her the strength she needed, and she nodded enthusiastically. "Then let us commence."
A hush fell over the grand hall as the heavy doors opened, revealing the bride in brilliant gradients of green, which gradually darkened as her gown swept the floor. Awed whispers and silent smiles of encouragement greeted Darcy as a lilting tune filled the hall. Chimes and strings announced her procession, ending in a soft crescendo when she reached the halfway point.
Synchronous voices started a chant in a foreign tongue. The guests all rose to show their respects as the royal family entered from the front and took their places beside the altar.
Darcy kept her face down as custom demanded. Humility should be maintained at all times as the consort of the crown prince, but soon enough, she would be taking on a whole new set of responsibilities.
Her heart rate sped up a little. Reginn felt her tense and slowed his pace minutely, silently sending her his strength. She concentrated on the voices that sounded like the angels her dad always told her about. A little smile curled her lips upward and she felt more confident.
As they approached the base of the elegantly carved steps, Darcy raised her face to be greeted by Alví's smile. She'd never seen the girl so genuinely happy. Her slippered foot slid over the first step. The next thirty-three passed by in a blur of colours and sounds. Before she knew it, King Laufey and Queen Fárbauti filled her vision and she stopped before the altar. The high priest raised his arms to call for silence.
Holding his hands out in her direction and to her right, he brought his palms close and Darcy turned to face him.
Loki, his expression blank to others, looked almost as nervous as she felt. The barest of smiles appeared before disappearing as the priest sung a prayer before all in attendance. She couldn't understand it anyway, but at the back of her mind she still remembered the translations she was taught. She focused on Loki and gradually drifted just a little closer. When the priest clapped his hands, she jumped and caught Loki's smirk from the corner of her eye.
"Those who have come to witness this union," the priest continued in richly accented English, "shall now send silent prayers to the higher gods, that these two people be blessed for all of eternity." He produced a pure white strip of silk-like fabric that almost rippled in the beams of light. Darcy put her right hand out while Loki put his left out, their hands almost touching. The high priest began another series of sung prayers, accompanied by the same eerie voices as before. She knew there was a choir, but she'd never actually seen them. Were they all children? Their voices were so ethereal —
A bright, pulsing warmth originated in the centre of the fabric and she stared unabashedly. This hadn't been in those lessons. Flitting a nervous look above her, Queen Fárbauti nodded once and she felt herself relax, if only a little. Okay, she thought to herself, this is fine. It's just a funky magic… pulsing… thing. It probably won't eat me.
As the priest drew the cloth around hers and Loki's hands, she wasn't as confident; the warmth travelled up her arm and she sucked in a breath at the jolt in her stomach.
"Before this congregation, I ask you both: Loki Laufeyson, Crown Prince of Jötunheimr and Commander of the Jötunn Fleet. Do you, with all of your might and force of will, bind yourself willingly and eternally to this Midgardian woman?"
Loki's hand formed a loose fist and he looked at Darcy beside her. "By the eyes of the heavens, I do, irrevocably."
A brighter pulse of light grew between their hands and stood steady, waiting for the priest to continue.
"And do you, Darcy Lewis of Midgard, Ambassador between the Peoples of Jötunheimr and Midgard, with all of your mortal force of will, bind yourself willingly and eternally to this Jötunn man?"
Darcy felt her heart stutter. Her hand started trembling, but was steadied by the hand now gripping hers. She looked up into Loki's face and smiled despite herself. "As the gods are my witness," she recited, voice starting out shaky but growing steadier, "I do, completely."
Another bright light joined the one in the centre and enveloped them both. A fuzzy feeling took over her mind for what felt like days, but then it began to fade and she was left sighing with her eyes closed.
"Onward, my friends!"
A rumbling sound followed the shouting beyond the grand doors of the hall. Darcy snapped out of her euphoric moment with a distinctly unladylike string of curse words. It was like falling out of bed in the middle of a wet dream, and if she got her hands on that idiot shouting —
The hall erupted in a flurry of sounds. A harsh crunch and creak brought the massive doors down. Four figures emerged with weapons aloft and a metallic zing passed just feet from Darcy. With wide eyes, she shouted for Loki who was already pulling out his daggers, flanked by Laufey whose spear gleamed menacingly under the bright rays of the ceiling.
"Son of Odin!" the king shouted loud enough to shake the walls. The four warriors beside Thor pulled back from their fighting stances and surrounded Thor in a protective semi-circle.
The giant brute Laufey had addressed practically snarled as his stupidly big hammer came thunking back into his grip.
"I shall see you pay for your treachery, Laufey!" he growled. His large stride left indented footsteps thudding into the floor as he headed for Laufey with looks to kill.
The Frost Giant King bared his teeth and shot his arm out in front of Loki, stopping his son before he could leap out to meet the blond meat block. Just my damn luck, Darcy cursed to herself, stupid roid-jock ruining my wedding like he owns the place.
She hurried as fast as her slippers and gown would allow her, meeting Loki at his side and clasping his hand tightly. "I swear if you get pancaked before we can fuck like rabbits, I'm gonna be seriously pissed," she hissed into his ear. Loki barked a laugh and pulled her close, daggers hovering before him withheld only by a thin shred of magical restraint.
"What do you accuse my father of, Æsir?" Loki asked with a sneer.
Thor drew himself up and gripped his hammer tightly in his right hand. "Conspiring to bring ruin to Asgard and its people. Jötunn assassins were caught on our borders, with orders to bring back Baldr's head. I've come to inform you of Odin's decree!" He canted his head and Sif placed a roll of parchment in his hand. "You are to be incarcerated and interrogated as to your part in this act of war," Thor read, his blazing blue eyes meeting the calm ones of Laufey. Too calm, in fact.
"I will bring you by force, if necessary." Thor's final sentence boomed through the hall, even as Jötunn warriors filed in and stood attentively, watching their King's every move. Laufey approached as calm as a snake, its rattles safely tucked behind its body where the prey would be none the wary. Darcy could feel the contempt oozing off of him as she watched him stalk forward. The muscles of his neck tightened and strained, but his tone was complacent.
"Will you, Son of Odin? That is not entirely necessary. As you see, you have barged in on a most important event." His arm swept out beside him, indicating the decorated hall. Thor quickly looked around and a small trace of a question began to cloud his face. "Agree to take this out of these halls, and I shall consider the All-Father's proposal."
Oh, he was mad. Darcy internally cheered for the Frost Giant and pulled Loki's arm closer in her coiled excitement. She knew, she just knew something horrible would be coming. Laufey would never leave his kingdom so willingly. She never entirely got along with the Jötunn, but she respected his commanding presence regardless. Let this idiot Thor dude take that in stride. She saw his jaw clench as she peered around the hulking form of her almost-father-in-law. Well, maybe he already is. I mean, that light show thing in my head…
"We have an accord." Thor's cohort dropped a fraction of their defensive postures, but still held their respective weapons at their sides. The fat bearded one looked like he wanted to grin, but he plastered a stern look on his face instead.
Laufey's slow steps echoed as Thor's had, but with a more sure force and trace of elegance Darcy couldn't ever figure out. He looked to his wife, who joined him. Her skirts rustled the crystal flowers hanging from invisible strings anchored into the ceiling. The gentle tinkling of their disturbed petals set a new chain of events into motion.
Before she knew it, Darcy was being pushed back and Loki's silver dagger flew head-on towards Thor. The Frost Giant guards flew into action: swords and battle-axes were drawn, coming down on each side of Thor's party as the warriors and warrioress cried their indignation. Loki gripped Darcy's hand tightly. She was protesting the rough hold, shouting, "Oh my god, Loki, we have to grab your parents!"
A shock of white blinded her and she found herself ensconced in green mist, appearing a moment later on the edge of a barren cave, with no one to be seen for miles.
Shit! she mentally raged and let loose a frustrated scream that echoed across the icy, deserted landscape.