Part six
It was like opening the gates to Hell. The fire was delicious and warm, consuming and inviting, yet the burns were torrid and atrocious. From afar, the orange licks of the fire were like the magnet to her metal, enticing and welcoming. As soon as she got closer, really delved into the heat, her skin would bubble with searing sufferance. He was temptation and she, the adulteress.
She knew it was wrong to keep going back; to insist on relishing in the wonders of him. Yet it was like he'd opened a door within her that, no matter how hard she tried, refused to shut. She was enticed by him, comforted even by the way his slender, frigid fingers made contact with her skin. She was enamored by the contrasting pain and pleasure coursing through her body when she was with him. The pain of knowing full well he was using her, bending her to his own will. The pain of knowing he did not consider her, only being with her to prove she was easily tricked and manipulated. To prove his point; the one he had made when they first kissed.
I will do what I want, how I want, with who I want.
But no matter how wrong, how unjust and horrifying she felt after satisfying herself with him, she kept going back.
The girl had values, however, which she was very careful to let Loki know. She refused to have complete intercourse with him. It was just one thing that she utterly and irrevocably refused to do; to give herself up to him entirely. She let him touch her, though, to feel and lick and kiss every inch of her burning flesh. He let her touch him also, letting her delve in places she'd never thought she'd ever go and love. She wanted to make him unravel as much as he could make her jump over that precipice. He brought her to the edge of a mountain she'd never mounted before, shoving her over into the darkness; the pure and utterly satisfying darkness. Even though she claimed to hate how bitterly tainted Loki's soul was, she desired and lusted for the darkness of his release.
After the first time she'd been given a taste of how radically delicious he was, there was no stopping her from going back. People at court talked about them; about the soon-to-be newly weds spending quality time together. Cali wouldn't call it quality time. Whenever she was with the prince, he'd aggressively tear her clothes off and shove her onto his bed, careful to avoid any contact or word that led to evidence of passion. He didn't love her. He didn't even care about her that much. All he wanted was to prove to her that no matter how much she fought to keep herself intact, his fingers would always be prying at her sanity.
The last remainders of the carefully poised girl she used to be vanished on the night of their wedding.
The lace of her gown dug uncomfortably into her soft flesh, the intricate designs seeming like smoke curling along her skin. She trembled as her handmaidens tightened the corset, pulling atrociously hard until the breath was knocked out of the brunette.
"Does it have to be on so tight?" she questioned under her breath. Her hair was curled loosely and pulled into a lazy bun that sat at the nape of her neck. Two stray strands of hair framed her face, and every time she moved, they scratched her cheeks.
"Mistress said that you must look as if you can't even breathe," answered the one who was gripping the ends of the ropes and tugging. "It will also make you stand up straighter."
Cali rolled her eyes.
The wedding morning had started with coffee in bed while a charade of women came to pamper the young woman. Toes, nails, hair, and skin were oiled and combed to perfection. After the handful of helpers had successfully turned her into a glossy statue, Cali's mother came to present the dress.
If Cali had been marrying any other man than Loki, she'd have gushed over the gorgeous gown. Pastel blues with gold and shimmering white. The dress was a lovely summer piece, showing off skin at her shoulders and waist line, with a corset cut in the exact shape of the gown.
"Isn't it wonderful, Cali?" she'd asked, beaming as if showing off pure gold to the girl.
"It'll do," Cali had mumbled.
Hours later, after hair and makeup, she was bent over, gripping the railing of the bed while her handmaiden was squeezing her into the corset of her wedding gown.
"Will you be reading the vows that the queen has given you?" the handmaiden asked. Cali shrugged nonchalantly.
"I've tweaked them," she muttered, wincing when the servant tugged especially hard. "I don't want to sound like I'm totally in love with him."
"You aren't?" the girl asked innocently. The bride to be rolled her eyes. Ever since she and Loki had been seen whisking away at dinners or secretly closing doors, everyone had assumed that she'd come around, that she'd finally fallen for his charms. The people at court whispered with smirks on their lips as they passed or even the royal family sarcastically joked about Cali and the prince's secret getaways. But none of them knew the exact nature, the savage and emotionless nature, of their contact.
But Cali needed to keep up appearances. "Yes, I do," she answered, staring blindly in front of her.
Hours later, when she was dressed in that wonderful gown that made her skin glow and her curves look delicious, she sat beside her father in the royal convoy. Four chariots, each carrying an important member of Cali's entourage. First, her Godparents, who were a couple that were extremely good friends of her father. In the second golden chariot rode her handmaidens, the ones who were royally invited to make sure there were no hiccups in her appearance. In third place came the family's guard, four brave women dressed in metallic blue. Finally, came the chariot in which rode Cali and her parents.
"Don't forget to constantly smile," her mother reminded the soon-to-be princess. "As soon as this door opens, you must smile."
"Yes mother," answered the girl.
"And wave," inserted Ragnar with a side glance at his daughter. "These are going to be your people soon. They must see you at your most beautiful and powerful today."
The more they traveled through the city, prancing and showing off the four chariots and their garrison, the more the girl's stomach felt like it would burst out of her abdomen. She could hear, in the distance, the faint chanting of a crowd, probably amassed before the castle's main gate. They were waiting for her.
When they wheeled into the main entrance of the castle, Cali could see thousands of people swarming before the main gates. Her heart tasseled in her chest, thinking about the man waiting for her at the altar. Her mind was fading out the roar of the crowd, concentrating on the darkness that was awaiting her. Soon, she would be forever bonded to it. In a matter of minutes, she'd be walking down the aisle, facing the one thing she refused to let into her life.
The four chariots stopped before the golden gates as they opened slowly. Ahead, the girl saw the entrance to the castle was guarded by the king's guard. Mouth dry, the girl gathered her skirts and held onto the door with a mighty force. Her knuckles were turning white by the time her chariot pulled in front of the golden steps.
"Wait for the garrison to exit their chariots, Miss," the guard said, the one who came to stand beside her little window. This would be the last time someone would address her as Miss. Next time, they would give her the royal title she was entitled to. Next time, she would be a princess.
Her garrison exited to the cheers and roaring of the crowd amassed behind the gate. Her godparents waved and smiled fondly, her handmaidens crowded around her chariot, and finally, her guards stood at the edge of the steps.
It was her turn to exit.
Into the bright sun, with her breath heaving out of her mouth, the girl stepped gingerly out of her chariot. The crowd went ballistic. Her heart beat ferociously. The steps seemed to glow even brighter than in her memory. Someone grabbed her arm, urging her forward, but her mind was in a haze.
Her name was being chanted by the time she had taken her first few steps onto the granite. She forced a smile onto her lips, but only she knew that she'd rather be crying. It was like swallowing a bath of acid. Her heart was burning, bile at the back of her throat, tears threatening to make her eyes red.
"What's the matter, milady?" one of her handmaidens whispered in her ear. Cali grabbed her skirts, straightened up, and nodded.
"Just the thrill of the moment," she answered, then lifted up her chin and followed her mother.
There was no going back. She had decided to save her family, to unite Vanir and Asgardian. She would go forth as bravely as she could.
Before the doors opened, Ragnar took his daughter's arm. Rona stood behind them with their flock of handmaidens. Around them stood the strange assortment of metallic blue guards of house Ragnar and the golden king's guard.
Then the doors opened, letting the heat of a thousand candles wash over her and the light of the golden room illuminate her flesh. Her mouth hung on its hinges as she saw the interior of the hall. Crystalline and golden, smiles and waves, the everlasting echo in the immensity of the room. Her breath caught in her throat. The place was magnificent.
Even the man looming at the altar, his back to her, seemed to fit into the beauty of the place like a missing puzzle piece.
As Ragnar delicately urged his daughter forward, Cali saw him turn. He wore a green and black outfit, his green robes reaching his ankles. Gold displayed on his chest in the forms of plates and armor. Smoke black swirled on his outfit like smoke. On his shoulders, a thick coat of dark fur. On his head of unruly black curls, a thin crown of gold.
In the golden and crystalline lighting, he looked like a king.
Behind him stood Odin, clad in golden armor with a thick, gold and blue crown made to represent the union of the two houses. On Loki's right, Thor and the Warrior's Three. Sif was waiting on Loki's left as Cali's maid of honor.
On shaking limbs, Cali made it safely to the altar. She had a hard time setting her eyes on her future husband as his cold digits made contact with the flesh of her upper arm.
"Who gives this lady in marriage to this man?" Odin asked, his voice resounding over the silence in the room. She could feel all the eyes of the royals of Asgard on her.
She couldn't look at Loki. He didn't seem like the man who was drowning in darkness. He didn't seem like the man who used her body just to show her how much control he had over her. In that moment, under the gold lighting, he looked soft and patient. He looked caring and quiet. He didn't look like the tormented storm that he actually was.
"My King, it is Ragnar who gives this lady to be married," he father said loudly. Her hand that was squeezing her father's arm was pried from his flesh and given to Loki. The latter softly caressed it, bringing it to his lips.
The king started the opening speech, presenting the house of Ragnar and Odin, and the two who were lucky to be brought together in this union.
"Today we celebrate love and unity, strength and passion," he boomed, his voice echoing in the hall full of nobility.
Cali tried not to wince at the falseness of it all. Her eyes were forcefully glued to the swirling green of Loki's, but she couldn't see the madness that she usually found within him.
"Cali and Loki have decided to recite their own vows," Odin finished, turning to Loki. "My son, you may recite your vows."
Loki's eyes never left hers. His mouth stretched into a warm smile that the brunette found very surprising. She'd never seen such warmth inside this monster.
"Cali Ragnardottir." She flinched ever the slightest, her name feeling like venom on his tongue. "You are a woman of bravery and strength, reflecting the qualities every woman should be proud of owning. I have proven to be a man not easily swooned by emotion, but you have changed me. You have shown be the strength within feeling, the bravery within baring oneself to emotion. I pledge to love you the way you are, as a woman of confidence and independence. I pledge to hold you, as your husband and your friend, through every moment of your life. I pledge loyalty, love, and endurance. I will be by your side until the end and beyond."
Even though she knew he was the master of lies and manipulation, she couldn't help but admit that what he said sounded like the truth. His eyes were soft, lips pulled in a nostalgic smile as he delivered his vows delicately to her. His fingers caressed her knuckles. It all seemed to be true and right, but to her, it looked like a game well played. Whatever he had said was to appease the crowd.
"Lady Cali, you may recite your vows."
She cleared her throat awkwardly, feeling like the weight of the world was on her shoulders. She had practiced these vows, yet they still felt foreign in her mouth.
"Life has given me the chance of meeting and marrying you." She breathed in, feeling his eyes on her, like he was relishing in her nervousness and he might as well be. "I cannot thank you enough for showing me the true meaning of love and understanding. You have opened my eyes to a world much misunderstood, yet you've proven to me how you can make me belong. By being by your side. You are a man of wisdom and of powerful will. I am more than happy to become your wife; to spend every waking moment, every breath, by your side. I pledge to love you, to hold you, to prosper with you. I pledge to encourage you and to better yourself. Nothing makes me happier than the thought of spending the rest of eternity with you."
The room was silent, yet she could hear her own heart as if it was in a megaphone.
"You may now exchange rings," Odin boomed.
Loki's ring was her grandfather's. As she slipped it onto his cold digit, the crowd softly clapped. Her own ring was Frigga's mother's. It was thin gold with four diamonds carved into the ring. It was simple and beautiful; two things that represented both the queen of Asgard and the now new princess.
"With this ring, I marry thee," Loki whispered, intertwining his fingers with hers.
"With this ring, I marry thee," she whispered back, forcing a smile on her own lips, feeling his frozen fingers pressing into her flesh.
Odin, with a glinting smile, put a hand on each of their shoulders and turned them to the crowd. "I present to you my son, His Royal Majesty Prince Loki Odinson, and his wife, Her Royal Majesty Princess Cali Ragnardottir."
The crowd exploded in a series of cheers and applause as Loki and Cali descended from the altar. Cali plastered a smile on her face as she held onto Loki's hand, guiding her to the festivities that would carry them well into the night.
Asguardian weddings meant heavy drinking and long night partying. The newly weds were sat that the royal table, flanked by their respecting families. A feast was prepared, one of great meat and ale, while the music had started well before appetizers. Thor was guffawing with his friends, dancing with his brown-haired belle, and insisting that Cali come join him on the dancefloor. He looked so happy and content, to see his brother finally happy with a woman. The sentiment made Cali feel regret for falsifying her feelings. She didn't love Loki. She wasn't happy with him and vice versa. But she had acted and played the role so well, that only Odin was still skeptic.
She danced with Loki. His hands felt like snakes on her exposed skin. "You look marvelous tonight, my love," he whispered to her, his lips grazing the shell of her ear. "I can't wait to have you all to myself."
The monster that he'd so dutifully hidden had now made an appearance after a couple of glasses of ale. His lips were stretched into a devilish smirk as he guided her on the dancefloor. "And here I thought you were the perfect gentleman," she answered. She might have been acting as if the whole ordeal didn't affect her, but she was more than nervous about their wedding night. If she thought about it for more than a second, she might go mad.
"You think me a monster," he whispered back, "but you will have to live with me forever now. You think me a monster, but you still love to come to me whenever your skin needs affection." She should have pushed him off, but they were married now. They were under the scrutiny of the Vanir and Odin. Instead, she gripped his hands more firmly.
The night went on and more and more people vanished from the feasting hall. Some were drunkards. Some were lovers who sought the solemnity of the night.
At that point, Thor took Loki away and Sif brought Cali out of the hall. A handful of blue-dressed handmaidens helped Cali into her new living quarters that she would share with Loki. The girl barely had the time to register the new are before the girls were ushering her into the bedroom. Sif was spraying pheromones on Cali's pulse points, while the other handmaidens were untying her hair and applying blush to her cheeks, although unnecessary.
The bedroom was a king-sized bed with gold and green linens, silken sheets, and an array of pillows. Two closets and chest of drawers. A love seat by the opened window, which sported pure white curtains. To represent both house, a cluster of gold and metallic blue decorations were askew in the room. Cali's heart was in her throat by the time Sif snapped her fingers. "She looks gorgeous girls," she said. "We must leave now, princess. Good luck and enjoy yourself." Lady Sid gave Cali a wink before leaving the girl standing there, all alone, smelling like Valhalla and looking like a goddess.
It was just mere seconds later when the door to her-their- bedroom opened and the prince stepped in. She looked at her husband, standing there without his crown, with just his green shirt and black trousers. The extra fur and coat he had on before had been rightly discarded, leaving him looking like the Loki she had been accustomed to.
"Wife," he grumbled.
"Husband."
He smirked, closing the door behind him and locking it.