It'd started out with the best of intentions, really, she swore it had. He'd been a tourist with a fetish for redheads, and she'd been looking for a way out of Russia. She'd never thought that he'd actually have money and that she'd have to meet his family in order to pull off this fake marriage of theirs. She twisted her hands nervously, staring down at her lap, pointedly not looking at the black haired man who sat beside her, stiff backed and tight lipped. He had something to get out of this too, she supposed, if she'd interpreted it all correctly. Neither he nor his brother were eligible to take over the company until they'd gotten married, Loki had complained to her on one of the many nights that they'd spent together before concocting the mad plan, the only way that either one of them could get whatever they'd wanted. He'd even offered her a fourth of the fortune he was to inherit so long as she went along with it, before she could confess to him that he was her ticket out of the hell hole she was forced to call home.
Hell, she would've been content to keep the enormous rock on her ring finger, catching her eye every time the light shone on it, and she swore it weighed her hand down every time she tried to move it.
"Nervous?" Loki asked, finally looking at her for the first time since they'd taken their places in the luxury Benz.
"You could say that. I've never done this. Met someone else's family," she admitted, her voice soft, doing everything she could to keep from biting down on her bottom lip and messing up her carefully applied lipstick. She felt fake, like a million dollars in the thin silk number he'd bought for her at one of the nicest stores she'd ever been in, but fake nonetheless. They were going to see right through her, and all of this-all of Loki's hopes and all of Natasha's dreams, would come crashing down around them at any moment.
He reached out to take her hand in his, squeezed it, before threading their fingers together.
"Don't worry. They're going to love you," he promised, leaning over to kiss her cheek. She forced herself to smile, loosened her shoulders as best she could manage, and when the driver pulled off to park the car, stared up in amazement at the palace that they'd stopped in front of. Okay, so it wasn't a palace, because she'd grown up in Russia where they actually had those, the spires poking the fluffy snow-filled clouds, but this was damn close. And they were going inside?
Heimdall got out of the car to open her door for her, and it seemed that all those years of ballet were going to pay off as she stepped out in her mile-high stilettos without so much as a snag, thanking with the most gracious smile she could manage. He returned it, complimenting her that she looked lovely, before Loki came out right behind her. Natasha tightened the deep blue wrap around her shoulders, her deep gold dress matching Loki's tie of the same color, and as before he took her hand in his and held her tight to his side as they made their way up the walkway.
"Breathe," he reminded her, but with his voice soft and right in her ear it only made it that more difficult. Still, she tried, rolling her shoulders slowly to keep herself loose, so that when they finally made it to the door, and Loki brought his knuckles rapping hard on the enormous wooden door, she wouldn't appear so stiff. At least that was the thought process.
'You've performed Swan Lake in front of thousands of people and this has you frazzled?' she questioned herself as they waited. It wasn't hardly half a minute before the door opened, and a dazzling woman stood in front of them, her golden hair piled atop her head, and her smile and attention focused entirely upon Natasha. She gulped.
"You must be Natasha, such a pleasure to finally meet you," the woman said, stepping closer to wrap Natasha in an immediate hug that spread warmth all the way down to her bones. Natasha wrapped her arms around the woman as well, trying to recall who Loki had told her it was. From behind the woman's back Loki's eyes pointedly met hers, and he mouthed "Frigga."
"A pleasure to meet you too, Frigga," Natasha said fluidly, and this time when she smiled she meant it. She'd never been hugged like that, never been looked at the way Loki's mother was right then, as though the sun shone out of her ass, not even by the men she'd turned tricks for when money was hard to come by. "Thank you so much for inviting me to your gathering-it's really an honor to finally meet you."
Frigga's smile grew more broad, if possible, at that, and she leaned over to whap Loki against the shoulder. He gave an indignant cry.
"Why have you been hiding her away you selfish little boy?" She teased before hugging him just as tightly. "Trying to keep her all to yourself, are you?"
"You know me, mother. I've never been one to share," Loki said with a wink in Natasha's direction. She allowed herself a blush.
"Well then come in the both of you. Thor and your father are in the drawing room, and I know they are both dying to meet your fiance."
God, even hearing the word was strange, but Natasha went along with it, Loki's arm now wrapping around her waist as they followed Frigga. The woman filled the silence with easy chatter, asking Natasha a couple pointed questions about her family, her parent's-who Natasha assured her had both passed when she was very young, and Frigga had stopped to hug her once more, pausing to wipe the tears from her own eyes. "I'm very sorry to hear that, my dear." She said, and she truly sounded it, no angle to be found. It near broke Nat's heart, forcing her to blink very quickly to push back her own tears. She could feel Loki looking at her as well. She'd never told him that, never been asked, really. It'd been all about preparing to meet his family; not a thing was said about hers.
The drawing room was vast, and two men sat in a pair of oversized chairs, the air around them thick with smoke from the cigar that the older one was smoking, while the younger-Thor, she thought-was sipping at a double of scotch, the ice tinkling merrily. Frigga clucked.
"What'd I tell you about drinking before dinner?" She asked, her eyes fixing on her eldest son. He stifled a curse as he set the glass back down, and Odin, who rose when his wife had entered, laughed softly.
"My dear, he's well past the drinking age."
"You don't have to tell me about it-I was there the day he was born," she said with a roll of her eyes and a knowing smile. Once again Natasha was introduced, and Odin embraced her just as Frigga had, welcoming her to his home, his one good eye fixating on her in a not at all intimidating manner. Thor stepped forward to kiss the back of her hand, his blue eyes staring up at her with a charm she'd been expecting. Loki had complained more than once about Thor's confidence, his swagger, when they'd been lying in her bed back in Russia with his head in her lap. As it was, her fiance's arm tightened around her waist.
"She's already spoken for, Thor," Loki reminded him, a harsher edge to his voice than perhaps was necessary, though the golden-haired man released her hand with a laugh of his own.
"A man can dream, can't he?" He asked, though there was no malice, no underlying jealousy there. "Congratulations to the both of you, I mean that as sincerely as I can." He said. She wasn't sure he'd be able to lie to save his life, truth be told. He seemed too . . . well, good. A flirt, yes, charming, certainly, but harmless. Sweet. Odin and Frigga were simply watching with fond expressions on their faces.
Natasha found that she revealed more about herself than she'd ever intended to as the day wore on, explaining to Frigga that she'd always dreamt of being a prima ballerina in the Russian ballet, that she'd trained and trained in the orphanage where she'd been placed after her parents death, until her uncle came to pick her up. Ivan had given her the training she'd been longing for-along with more than she'd ever thought to receive, though she knew better than to bring that up-and she'd even gone so far as to promise to perform for Frigga one day, when she wasn't wearing such a confining number. The more they talked and shared, not just about Natasha's life, but about Loki's childhood as well, the more she felt her heart ache that this was all supposed to be a ruse, that this would be over as soon as they'd had their private ceremony, Loki had inherited Odin's multi-billion company, and they'd said their goodbyes. More than once she felt his eyes on her, and wondered, as they met one another's gaze across the table, her cheeks flushing and surprising even her, if he felt the same.
After dinner had finished, the food beyond anything Natasha had ever come across in her life, Loki offered to take her for a quick turn around the grounds. Frigga and Odin watched them go with wide smiles, Frigga's especially heartfelt, and Natasha felt a lump rising in her throat. How long had she longed for a mother figure, someone she could actually talk to, only to find that every older woman in her life had otherwise been either jealous of her, or downright mean.
Loki's arm was warm and steadying as he led her out past the drawing room and onto a small terrace that led down to the extravagant grounds. The sun was setting, and the view from where they stood was . . . well, she found she had to force herself to breathe once more for fear of asphyxiation.
"You're a natural when it comes to charming them," Loki said, his voice so soft that she had to lean against him to hear it, the rumble of his chest a stronger comfort than she'd expected it to be.
"Your family is wonderful," she admitted. "Your mother especially."
"Yes, Frigga is the rock. Without her, well, I'd be a much less fortunate man than I am today," he admitted. "She's believed in me even when Odin has not. Especially when he hasn't."
"She loves you a great deal, I can tell," Natasha said, smiling up at him, and catching it as his eyes began to water at her words. Heart aching and mind spinning to try and rectify the situation before it all came tumbling down around her, she forced herself to her toes, wrapped one of her arms around his neck, and pressed her lips to his, her body flush against him. It didn't take him long to respond before he was kissing her back, sending ripples of shivers down her spine. This was new. Different than anything she'd ever experienced with him before-with anyone before. There had been dabbles and dalliances, and the risk of the flirtations had once gotten her adrenaline pumping, but this was a different matter entirely. Her heart felt as though it might burst through her chest, and when they finally pulled away for want of air, she wasn't the only one red-cheeked and gasping for more.
"You know," Loki started, never once taking his eyes off of her. "This whole marriage thing . . . do you fancy actually trying it. For real?"
If she thought she'd been close to her heart popping out of her chest before, it was nothing compared to then, as his words finally sunk in. She pulled a coy smile out of her back pocket, though, forcing herself to look as though she was considering it.
"You know, Loki. I'm a proper lady now. I think if you wish to give this a real go, you'd best get on one knee and ask me properly." She teased, not having expected him to grin and kneel down in front of her.
From the window Frigga grinned, arms wrapped around herself, as she watched the pair embrace as soon as Loki had risen back to his full height again, picking Natasha up and spinning her around. As if he'd ever be able to hide anything from her, really. She hummed merrily as she turned away from the window and made her way into her own private study. There was really so much to do to get a wedding planned, and she was already running behind.
A/N: Alright, I was prompted forever and a year ago to do a Proposal AU, and many many thanks to Courty who helped me come up with just how I wanted this to be written. Hope you enjoyed it! It's a great deal more fluffy than I'm used to, but I hope it still comes off as in character! Thanks for reading!