Gonna try and top the length of last chapter. TRY. I actually started to write this the day after I published chapter 2, but I will still listen to your input on whether the rest of the Avengers should stay on Earth when the wedding happens, or if they should attend.

Also, to all the Sif fans, she will be appearing in this story! In this chapter actually. But you may not be pleased with her...sorry.

EEEE Okay, quick word count!

5315 words! (except when I bold a few things it counts as 8 words WHUT)

Okay enjoy the chapter!

Natasha woke up with veil of sweat draped over her collarbone. Not because she had a nightmare; no, that's silly. But it was because it seemed Asgard really valued it's warmth. During the day, Asgard seemed to be a perpetually active furnace. At night, however, it was like being frozen on the dark side of the moon. Luckily, her bedroom had a large fireplace. Except it was somehow always still burning when she woke up.

She didn't share a bedroom with Loki yet, thank god, but she knew she shouldn't count her blessings. Tomorrow, she would be.

Yawning and stretching, Natasha got out of her absurdly comfortable bed and rolled her hips to place her feet on the marble floor, but lo, there were several very large boxes blocking her way. With a message on the top.

Natasha,

I took the liberty of traveling again to Midgard and brought some of your personal items to Asgard in hopes it will help you feel more at home.

And please, do not murder me, for this action required me rifling through your drawer of undergarments.

- Loki

She didn't really care about this small fact. After all, they were going to be married in just one day, and it was very likely, unfortunately, that they would eventually engage in...fondue, as Steve so eloquently phrased it. But what concerned her more was that he sneaked these huge boxes into the room while she was sleeping, and not even her remarkable reflexes and light sleeping were disturbed.

Whatever. It's probably some Asgardian thing she didn't know about.

Inside the boxes were piles upon piles of clothing from her own drawers. A picture album rested atop the pile filled with pictures of her and the other Avengers, particularly Clint, and several items that even belonged to Clint and the others that she had neglected to return. Loki must have thought they were hers.

But what really made her day was a separate box that was filled to the brim with every firearm she had stashed away in her apartment.

At least now he was actually trying to get along with her.

Getting dressed for the day, she decided that she would save all her clothes from home for a rainy day, and instead opted for an Asgardian ensemble.

The dress she chose was somewhat similar to the dress she wore yesterday, in that it was along sleeved empire waist and touched the floor, but that's where the similarities ended. Instead of a soft olive green, this dress was a deep cerulean, and rather than lace, it was all simple solid fabric.

Tying her short hair into a miniature bun, she heaved open the double doors and stepped outside her bedroom, where Thor was awaiting her awakening.

"Ah, Lady Natasha," he crooned, taking her delicate but strong hand in his own hand and kissing it lightly. He was surprisingly gentle for someone who possessed a bone crushing grip.

"Calm down, lover boy, I'm already spoken for," Natasha joked. Thor chuckled.

"I wouldn't dream of taking you from my dear brother," he said, still laughing a bit. Natasha took this opportunity to learn all she could about her soon to be husband.

"So, from what Frigga told me, Loki's not exactly popular with the ladies. Is that true?"

"Unfortunately, my mother speaks the truth. The females tended to avoid my poor younger brother, and instead fawned over me, or one of the stockier, stronger men."

"Surely Loki's strong too? And he's not that scrawny. Not as buff as you, but even through all the armor he wears I can tell there's some serious muscle going on," Natasha said.

"True, Loki is strong. But I am stronger."

"Ah, now you're boasting."

"T'is an unfortunate feature. But I recall one day Loki confiding in me of which lucky lady had gained his affections. This was far before he learned of his betrothal, mind you," Thor defended.

"Who was this lucky lady?" Natasha inquired.

"It was my good friend and fellow warrior, Lady Sif," Thor informed her, "of whom I assume you have not yet met. But I recall that in that very same day, Lady Sif approached me with a confession of her own feelings for me."

"Ouch, that's rough," Natasha said with a slight cringe. "What did you do?"

"I, of course, rejected Lady Sif...as gently as possible. Not only did I not return the affection in the same manner, but even if I had, I could never betray my own brother in such a manner."

"I bet she wasn't very happy about that," Natasha mused with a knowing nod. Thor laughed heartily.

"No, no she was not. But we were able to vanquish the issue like adults, and established a stronger friendship because of it. I am not entirely sure that her affection for me was fully quashed, but I doubt she feels as strongly as she did then."

"Did Sif ever find out about Loki's feelings?" Natasha wondered aloud.

"She has never said that she has, but she is the most clever of all my friends. Aside from Loki, that is, and I have no doubt in my mind that she eventually discovered this herself."

"Wow, sounds like you choose your friends well, Thor."

"I try," he said with a smile. "If you would like, Lady Natasha, I can take you to meet Lady Sif now."

Natasha pondered this idea for a moment. She wondered if it were really a good idea to meet the object of her fiance's childhood affections. For all she knew, maybe Loki still had feelings for Sif. She didn't blame him. Though she had already established that she didn't want to marry Clint, that didn't mean she didn't still love him.

But what harm could come of just meeting someone she'd likely meet in the near future anyways?

"That would be nice, Thor."

Thor led Natasha to a large room with training dummies made of many different materials. Some were wood, some were leather and hide, and some were even made of what looked like hard steel.

She recalled in her mind the directions to this room from her own bedroom and filed it away in her mind for future use. She was sure she'd become very fond of it.

"There," Thor said, pointing to a tall, strong brunette, who was busy hacking away at one of the steel dummies with her enormous broadsword, "is Sif."

And just like that, Thor was gone, leaving Natasha alone to cross the long distance between her and her, hopefully, new ally.

Silently, and slightly nervously, she stood a few yards from the intensely training Sif. She wrung her hands. She really wasn't used to making friends. Her line of work never really required it. Sure, she had the other Avengers, but she met them through work. With Sif, she was on her own. And as she opened her mouth to say something, Sif beat her to it.

"Save it, Natasha," Sif snarled, spitting her name like it left a foul taste and not distracting herself from her training for a single moment.

"I...uh..." Natasha found herself at a loss for words. She'd never even met Sif before and she'd already made up her mind about Natasha. "...did I do something?"

"Well," Sif said, huffing large breaths as she finally stopped swinging her sword, "not you personally."

She picked up her sword again, bringing it down in one large swing and lopping off the dummy's head with little or no effort.

"I just hate Midgardians."

In the throne room, Frigga was frantically pacing back and forth in front of the large throne. The servants, however, were even more stressed than she, since they were doing all the work.

"No! No no no, those flowers are all wrong!" Frigga screeched.

Thor and Loki were at her side in an instant.

"Mother, please," Loki said, holding her gently, "for the rest of the Kingdom's sake, calm yourself."

"Loki is right, Mother. You have done a splendid job of planning this wedding on such late notice, and you have the whole day to finish."

Frigga, though she initially struggled to get back to work, eventually relaxed, and went to rest briefly in her chambers. Not long after, Natasha entered the room as quietly as possible.

"Lady Natasha!" Thor exclaimed, throwing up his arms in greeting. "How was your first meeting of Sif?"

"Not good," she admitted, "Sif straight up told me she hates me and all Midgardians."

Thor frowned with a confused look in his gray blue eyes.

"That is unlike her. Sif had always been friendly toward Jane."

Loki entered the conversation with a small smirk on his admittedly handsome face.

"I suspect," he mused, "that the problems lies with Lady Natasha's profession of choice."

"So I'm an assassin, who cares?" Natasha shook her head. "Why does it matter?"

"I won't say another word," he said in a hurry as he was beckoned by Odin, who was just outside the room. "Thor, I believe we are needed with Father."

"Right. Lady Natasha," Thor acknowledged, giving a slight bow to her. Not knowing how to react, Natasha just stood still. Thor looked at his brother and gave him a sharp elbow to the side. Loki groaned from the unnatural strength of such a simple action, but mirrored his brother's bow toward his fiance.

"Lady Natasha," Odin raised his voice so she could hear him better, "I believe Lady Frigga is awaiting you in her chambers. I will arrange for a servant to escort you."

And, for the umpteenth time in the past day, she was left completely alone, save for the servants.

The servant had brought Natasha to a large golden door, even larger than the doors to her own bedroom.

She once again heaved the identical doorknocker into the air and released it, bracing herself for the loud echo of the knocker hitting the door.

"Come in, dear."

Natasha stepped inside Frigga's room and saw what she should have expected, but didn't.

There was a mannequin standing in the middle of the large red circular rug, and on it was an extravagant white and gold wedding gown. Natasha looked at Frigga, who sat with a small smile on her beautiful face.

"This was my wedding gown when I married Odin," she said. Natasha could see remnants of tears building up in the queen's eyes, and it was obvious she was overwhelmed with both nostalgia of her own wedding and the feeling that she was losing her son to another woman.

"I want you to have it. Wear it tomorrow to the wedding."

"Frigga..." Natasha didn't know what to say. "This is so kind of you..." And before she could say anything else, Frigga was enveloping her in a hug.

"I am truly pleased to have you as a daughter in law," Frigga said, inhaling with a shuddering breath, "I really, truly am."

"And you've been nothing but kind to me and I'm very grateful," Natasha hugged her in return.

"I only ask that you do one thing, my dear."

"Anything, Frigga."

Frigga pulled away from the redheaded beauty, sniffling and wiping a few tears away. She reached down and grasped Natasha's hands in her own and looked at her with a pleading expression.

"Please be good to my son," she begged. "Ever since he discovered his true heritage, I believe he has felt like...an outcast, or that he did not belong here in Asgard. But we love him as dearly as we do Thor."

She looked down at her feet, then back up at Natasha.

"I know that you two do not know each other very well, and you may not be the best of friends, and I understand that this wedding is arranged, but if you, his own wife, were to reject him..." She closed her eyes in an attempt to force the images that came to her mind, "he may never recover the repercussions."

Natasha didn't even want to think about what would happen if a god became emotionally scarred and likely angry and hurt over someone as 'low' as a Midgardian, especially with his emotional issues.

Would he snap and go on a killing spree, threatening to destroy her home world and everyone she loves?

Or would he retreat within his emotional defensive walls, neglecting his kingdom and refusing to utter a single word while doing so?

Frigga broke Natasha's thoughts with a sigh and a small laugh.

"Well, the gown may be ill-fitting in certain areas, given that you are enviously more voluptuous than I ever was, but that shouldn't be too much of a problem. I can fix the measurements without a problem."

And while Frigga helped her into her gown, she returned to those thoughts that even she herself admitted she did not want to think of.

One thing was for sure: Frigga was right. No matter how much she may dislike it, if Natasha were ever to reject Loki on any terms, it may compromise the safety of all these Nine Realms.

This was it.

This was the day that all Natasha's hopes and dreams went out the window.

All her dreams of becoming a strong military leader someday. Squashed. Ground into the pavement. Ran over by a car.

Instead, fate chose, in her opinion, the most pointless role for a woman ever to exist.

Being a Queen.

Today was the day she married a complete stranger.

She got out of bed, dressed in her favorite clothes from Earth, and walked out of the room, where Thor was once again waiting.

"Lady Natasha, I was ordered by Odin himself to escort you to a dressing chamber. The wedding is in a mere three hours, and we wish to be sure you're ready on time. Early, if possible," he explained. And as soon as those three little words 'mere three hours' caressed her ears, she felt an alarmingly large wave of anxiety, nerve, dread, and even nausea wash over her.

"Lady Natasha, are you feeling well?"

"Uh...y-yeah, just...nervous, I guess."

"If you need to sit down for a moment, you have only to tell me and I will fetch you whatever you may need," Thor said, concern laced in his words. Natasha shook her head, though she thinks it was merely out of attempt at politeness than actually not needing anything. Truth be told, she could use a back massage, a long sit in a sauna, and a glass - no, a bottle - of Jack Daniels.

God, that sounded so good right now.

"That's fine, Thor, just take me to where I need to go."

He rushed her back to Frigga's room, where he then let Frigga take over.

"Let's go, dear, we have to get you ready!" She said

When they arrived at the dressing room, Frigga was slightly out of breath. Not from activity, but from nerve. Frigga was nervous for her son. Who, when Natasha got a glimpse of him before she entered the dressing room, looked calmer than a stoner. Closing the door quietly behind her, Natasha was nearly dragged over to the dress.

"Here, put it on. I made all the alterations, so it should fit you now."

She slipped on the longer than floor length gown, turning so Frigga could drag the zipper upwards and tie any laces, and turned to see herself in the mirror.

Every detail about this dress was a soft, pale gold color. The dress was a strapless sweetheart neckline, and was covered with decorative rosettes of silk. It was tightly fitting to her waist but not in a painfully constricting manner. It was a near perfect fit, and even allowed quick movements, such as close combat might require. She supposed that in the unlikely event that something go wrong during the wedding and celebration, this would be handy.

The skirt portion reached just past her feet, barely covering her toes in the front. In the back, however, there was a two foot long train that had matching snow white silk lace trim. Her shoes were two inch heeled pumps with decorative silk embroidery.

While examining herself, Frigga approached from behind and gently placed a white gold tiara, which was adorned with diamonds, on her freshly curled red hair. The tiara had the thin mesh lace veil attached.

"This was also mine when I married Odin," Frigga sighed, noting the high temperature in the room and handing Natasha a glass of water. She drank slowly, relishing in the cool sensation of the icy water running down her parched throat.

"Should you and Loki give this kingdom a daughter, you can pass these items on to her as well."

Kids?

Natasha started sputtering and coughing, struggling to get the water from the wrong pipe. Frigga, startled, began to gently pat on Natasha's back, obviously unaware that patting can sometimes make it worse. Fortunately for both of them, Natasha recovered in under a few minutes.

"Perhaps you're right," Frigga said with an uneasy shrug. "It may be a little early to be discussing children. After all, you have not even married yet!"

Natasha had her suspicions that Frigga has purposely planted the idea in her mind, just to see what she would do with that idea. And it was working. She couldn't take her mind off of the idea of having children with Loki.

Not in the sense that that was all she wanted to do. Not at all, she barely knew him. But now that Frigga had mentioned it, she suspected that it would be expected of them to eventually produce a child. It was probably something that would strengthen the truce between Asgard and Jotunheim, and that would make it all the more important.

Fuck.

Shit.

Oh, god. Natasha isn't religious, but she found herself silently praying to whoever might be listening that they at least give her and Loki some time before they start demanding copulation for the sake of offspring. And she swore, if Loki expected her to put out tonight, he was dead fucking wrong.

Not that she really expected him to. He didn't seem all too thrilled with the wedding anyway.

"Are you nervous, dear?" Frigga asked.

"Being the only one from Earth in the whole realm, it's not exactly a very comfortable situation for me," Natasha said with a hint of sarcasm to her smooth voice. Frigga then looked confused.

"But dear, you won't be the only Midgardian. Thor's beloved, Jane, will also attend. In fact, she should already be in Asgard. I can arrange for you to meet her, if you-"

"Yes! Uh, I mean, yes please," Natasha burst out, and then caught herself. "It would make me a lot more comfortable to finally see another...Midgardian before I get married."

Frigga smiled kindly. She explained that she would leave to find Jane and Thor, and would return shortly. This left Natasha to her thoughts until she returned.

God, as beautiful as Asgard is, she really missed New York.

She missed the bright neon lights of Times Square, the rushing cars, the hustle and bustle of the crowd on the streets. She missed ordering pizzas and having movie nights with the rest of the Avengers.

Hell, she even missed the hoodrats and that annoying sound their spray paint cans make when the shake the bottle in preparation to vandalize the brick walls of the city.

Everyone was so damn proper here.

Most of all, she missed Tony. Not Clint, no. Tony.

Of course not in a romantic sense. But she wouldn't deny that any one of his sarcastic remarks would be enough to lift her spirits right about now.

At least she would be able to visit every now and then. And at least she was still a part of the Avengers.

"Natasha, the ceremony is about to begin."

And here comes the heart attack.

Thor waited outside, wearing something that looked almost the same as his usual armor, but instead of red and silver, it was black and gold.

"Well," she said, her voice wavering, "anything I should know about the procedure of an Asgardian wedding before I go out there and make a fool of myself?"

Thor's booming laugh echoed in the golden halls.

"Dear Natasha, you will not make a fool of yourself," he assured her with no success. "We believed that this was an opportune chance to study the cultures and ways of the Midgardians, as we know surprisingly little of them. Therefore, we made our best attempts to create an authentic Midgardian wedding. What better way to learn than to witness it ourselves?"

Natasha nodded. Thor then informed her that there would be a few differences.

"There will not be any vows spoken by the bride and groom. We have a different procedure that is equivalent. You will just have to see for yourself, I'm afraid," Thor said. "And we thought, in your best interests, not to force you to hand-feed sugary confections to my brother."

"That's a load off my mind," she admitted. "Will anyone be giving me away?"

"What?"

"You know, giving me away?"

It was obvious she had to explain.

"In a traditional wedding, the father of the bride would walk down the aisle with her, and when they reach the groom and priest, he would basically release his custody or responsibility over to her husband, essentially giving her away." She said.

"Oh," Thor said with a heavy sigh. Sheepishly, he admitted, "We must have overlooked that detail."

"It's fine, I don't have a dad anyways."

What a conversation killer. Nice job, Natasha.

Thor and Natasha stood before the, once again, golden doors, waiting for their queue. Natasha could hear what sounded like hundreds, if not thousands of people chattering away excitedly.

"There's, uh...a lot of people in there, huh?" she said with a nervous gulp.

"There hasn't been a royal wedding is Asgard for almost three thousand years. The last known wedding was of Odin and Frigga. They're all very excited."

What.

"But how can that be three thousand years ago? They're still alive!"

Thor gave her a strange look.

"Asgardians live much, much longer than Midgardians. In fact, both Loki and I are approaching our two thousand year mark! Surely someone must have told you this?"

Natasha felt like she was going to faint.

"And not long after today, you will eat the apples from Idun's tree, and you, too, will live the lifespan of an Asgardian."

No, she was going to faint.

"W-what!?" she whimpered. Thor only looked at her worriedly.

But fainting would have to wait, because in just a few moments, those doors would open, and she would be signing her death warrant, aka marriage to a complete stranger.

And by in a few moments, I mean now. Natasha could hear the trumpets start their melody, and she could feel her stomach dropping out of her butt. She did all she could to hide any physical evidence of her nerve, but she was trembling beyond all control.

The huge doors opened, and Thor led Natasha to her doom.

Loki hated this. He hated it more than he hated the summertime and it's glaring sun and stifling heat. He was sure Natasha wasn't keen either, but he wanted to go out into the forest and kill as many creatures as he could find.

But this was for the sake of his entire realm, therefore his personal feelings would have to be shoved aside and disregarded completely. He could feel his throat being shoved up his throat and into his mouth when the huge doors hiding his bride began to creak open. She took the first step into the room on the long blue carpet, with gold trim (almost everything is gold in Asgard), and when he saw her he couldn't deny that his bride was, indeed, quite beautiful.

To Natasha's surprise, Thor had even had the musicians learn Canon in D, which, for those of you that don't know, is one of the traditional musical pieces that a bride will walk down the aisle to. It was lovely.

Loki agreed. He found Midgard to be rather dull in most areas, but when it came to music, their realm was just as colorful, if not more so, than Asgard. He has been to Midgard before, back when Mozart was still alive, even. It was nothing short of a treat to be able to attend his concerts and listen to his masterpieces in the flesh. He was very, very fond of classical Midgardian music. Canon was, actually, one of his favorites.

Before he knew it, his bride was already halfway down the aisle, which was considerably longer than any aisle in any chapel in Midgard. His bride almost looked annoyed at the sheer length of the thing. He could understand that. He imagined that, like, him, she'd rather "cut the bullshit", as Midgardians say, and get it over with.

He got a closer look at her, and he realized that this was Frigga's wedding dress. He wasn't alive to witness her marriage to Odin, but he had seen it lying about in her chambers now and then.

It looks stunning on Natasha, the soft gold color gently contrasting with her spicy red hair.

Finally, Natasha had reached where he was standing, and she moved to stand beside her groom.

There, performing the ceremony, was none other than Odin himself.

He began with the traditional Midgardian "dearly beloved", and the droning lasted for a good fifteen minutes.

Throughout the whole thing, Natasha couldn't get her head off the idea of children, thanks to Frigga. Crap, what if they were expected to have babies as soon as possible? She's only twenty four, she's not ready for that yet!

Loki glanced at his bride. A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead. Though he didn't want to get married to Natasha, he wished Odin would just finish the damn ceremony and be done with it, rather than have to stand in front of all of Asgard, sweating profusely. He never did like crowds.

They were finally nearing the climax of the ceremony. The kiss.

"Do you, Loki Odinson," Odin said with pride, "take this woman to be your wife?"

"I do," Loki said. He didn't feel anything in particular; he had rehearsed this wedding over and over again int he company of Odin and Thor. He smoothly slipped the white gold ring onto Natasha's delicate white finger.

"And do you, Natasha Romanoff, take this man to be your husband?"

To the crowd, it was a fleeting moment that passed between Odin's question and her answer. But to her it was like the world stopped. She didn't want this. At all. And not just the fact that it was Loki.

She didn't want marriage. Period.

Just another commitment that she was afraid to let down.

No, she wanted to leave; she had to leave. She had to get out of this room. This huge, expansive, suffocating room. She almost felt a tear being brought to her eye, but she forced it down.

"I do."

For the sake of her home and his, it was something that had to be done.

"Then by the power invested in me, I pronounce you husband and wife."

Natasha could feel her heart dying as she heard him utter those dreaded words.

"You may now kiss the bride."

They turned to face each other. Loki's clenched jaw and fists were telltale signs that his feelings on the marriage were similar, if not identical, to her own. Uncomfortable. Awkward. Something neither of them wanted, but they did anyway in a selfless thought.

Natasha stood looking at the wall far behind his head. Anything but looking at his face; she couldn't bear this unbelievable pressure. Slowly, but surely, his face grew nearer to her own, and it became hard to ignore as it occupied all in her vision.

Their lips touched. Neither moved. It was not a kiss of love and affection. It was a kiss of duty.

The crowd erupted into gleeful cheers, Thor's among the loudest, and Frigga had gleaming tears on her cheeks.

But the bride and groom only wished they could share in that same enthusiasm.

"A toast!"

Volstagg rose his hearty glass of mead, though an argument could be made for a keg as a better term.

"May your marriage be long, happy, and prosperous as that of our Allfather and his lady Frigga."

The crowd cheered once more, all downing the drink without hesitation downed their glasses. Natasha tipped her head back and felt the cold drink slide down her throat. It wasn't unlike a beer, however it was much sweeter. She found herself enjoying it to the last drop. She could enjoy the reception and its bounty, if nothing else. Loki sipped on his thoughtfully, looking at her. Analyzing her would be a better way to put it. But she wasn't going to stop him; they were married now and he had no reason not to.

Loki let the celebration pass, though the few hours dragged on longer than seemed possible. Soon, it came to the point where everyone was either tired and/or drunk, or they wanted to leave the newly married couple to their own devices.

Natasha had been the first one, out of the entire Kingdom, to leave the celebration to retire to her - no, their - room. He remained with Thor for a few minutes longer, but soon after, he followed suit.

He slowly opened the door to their room, but quickly turned around in embarrassment when he was met with the sight of Natasha's nude form as she dressed in her sleepwear.

"I do apologize, Lady Natasha," he began, "I had not thought to knock."

"It doesn't matter."

Those were the only words she spoke to him before he heard the bed shift under her weight and he knew it was safe to look. He said nothing, but moved to a more private corner of the room and undressed himself as well.

He sat on the edge of the bed, slowly drawing his legs over the edge and shuffled himself underneath the blankets. Despite the fact that her appearance was not unattractive in the least to him, and the same could be said for him in her case, both were thanking their lucky stars that the bed was as large as it was. Both lay at either far end, as far from the other as possible.

And after what seemed like ages, both fell into an uncomfortable slumber.

Woops, sorry for taking so long.

I suck.

Bye.