Maryn moved gracefully through the throngs of people in the great dining hall. The Allfather had thrown a feast to celebrate his eldest son's recent hunting victory and she was playing the dutiful princess; flitting from group to group and smiling benignly at those who raised their goblets to her or speaking with those who drew her into conversation.
She was even dressed as a princess of Asgard in a high-necked gown of cream and gold lace with a full skirt and small cap sleeves. Her hair was twisted up beautifully at the back of her head and threaded with strings of small white shells. The only jewellery she wore was a pearl and silver chain bracelet with small moonstones decorating the clasp, sliver filigree earrings with a single pearl drop hanging from each one and her engagement ring.
With a small sigh she waved a server over and took a goblet of mead from his tray. She didn't usually drink something as strong as the golden liquid but with the snide comments coming from Sigyn's followers every time she walked past them she realised that she would need more than wine to get her through the night.
"Oh, Lady Maryn," Lady Hretha called her over to a group of women that were laughing and talking together, "Come, we haven't had a moment to speak since your hand-fasting."
Maryn remembered that conversation, she had been standing with Frigga and Lady Sif when Hretha and Sigyn had added their unwanted ideas to the conversation. Sif had excused herself as quickly as possible leaving Maryn to smile and nod politely even as Sif sent her an apologetic look before moving to speak with Hogun and Fandral.
Now, however, there was not the gentle buffer that the Allmother provided and so Maryn had to call on all her calm to keep herself from snapping at the older woman.
"We have been doing some study on the beliefs and traditions of your people, Maryn," Hretha smiled in a way that made Maryn want to cringe or glare, she wasn't sure which.
"Yes, it is very fascinating," another goddess spoke up sharing a sly grin with the women around her. "Is it true that they have feasts where they let their magic take over and loose complete control of themselves?"
Maryn opened her mouth to answer only to have a third woman speak up, "Or that the wedding night is performed in front of witnesses? How barbaric," she laughed.
Another spoke up, "I have heard that women may not choose their husbands and are forced by their fathers to marry whoever can pay the highest price."
Hretha laughed, "Well, I read that the priestesses bed many men at the same time." The women around Maryn gasped in shock and Hretha turned to her with a cruel twist of her lips, "Is it also true that you were to become a priestess, Lady Maryn?"
Jaw clenched Maryn tried to calm her rising ire as more lewd suggestions and laughter was thrown out into the circle of women. Trembling with barely supressed anger she couldn't keep her benevolent mask in place and glared at the women around her, "Your questions are wrong, ladies," she grit out from between clenched teeth, "You should be asking why it is that your husbands have found comfort in the arms of others." At the shocked and scandalized murmurs from the women around her, Maryn felt a glimmer of satisfaction. That died when she turned to leave only to see Loki standing with Frigga a few feet away, the Prince's face dark with anger. Her shoulders slumped when he glared at her, glanced at the feast hall's doorway pointedly and then turned to excuse himself from his mother's presence.
Straightening her shoulders, Maryn walked toward the doors, putting her goblet down on the tray of a passing server. She only made it a few steps into the hallway outside the feasting chamber before a large hand closed around her upper arm and she was dragged down the hall and into a small alcove.
Loki spun her around and glared down at her, "How dare you speak in such a way," he snarled.
Maryn flinched at the anger in his voice before lifting her chin stubbornly and glaring up at him, "How dare I?" she hissed, "They are the ones that mock my home, they are the ones that laugh and jest about something they have no understanding of. Their questions were of traditions that died out centuries ago and yet they use them to shame me."
Loki ran a hand through his black hair, "You should not have shown that their taunts distressed you. As my future wife I expect you to rise above whatever they say to you."
In exasperation, Maryn threw her hands up in the air, "As your future wife I would expect you to defend my honour, not drag me from a room to be reprimanded as if I am a child."
Loki's hands curled into tight fists at his sides, "You are acting like a child," he snarled, his green eyes glinting with anger. "You will ignore their words next time and hold your tongue or I will truly treat you as a child and take you over my knee."
Maryn stepped toward him not caring how much taller and stronger he was than her, the rage she felt at being slighted and then having the one person she thought would defend her turn on her instead made her bold, "Next time I will teach them manners even if my betrothed," She spoke the title with distain, "Wishes otherwise. The next time they try to hurt me I might just turn to my brother-in-law to protect me seeing as you do not feel the need to do so." She saw the hurt flit across his face at her words but couldn't bring herself to stop, "My mother taught me never to bow to others when they wish to hurt you. She would want me to-."
Loki cut her off with a violent downward swipe of his hand, "Your mother is not here, girl, and you now live in a court that will spurn you if you stupidly fight back against them. You will stop acting like a fool and do as I say!"
Tears filled Maryn's eyes at his harsh words and she shrunk back from him, "I'm sorry, my Lord. Forgive me, it will not happen again."
Loki seemed to deflate at her words, his shoulders sagging and his gaze softening, but it was too late, the damage was done and Maryn was pulling away from him.
"Excuse me," she whispered before dodging his touch and running from the alcove and back to her rooms. Once in the safety of her chambers she threw herself down on her bed and gave into her hurt, sobbing into her pillow until she fell into a fitful sleep.
For the next few days she kept to her rooms only allowing Frigga or Sif to see her and ignoring all of the notes Loki had delivered to her room by Tora's betrothed. In desperation the dark prince even came to her himself and begged the handmaiden to let him in to see Maryn. However, Tora refused seeing how deeply Loki had hurt her mistress and told him that if he wished to fix things between himself and Maryn he would have to do so without her help as she was loyal to her mistress and no other.
Frustrated Loki turned to his brother for help. Thor, realizing how much his mischievous brother needed the small woman who would be his wife, spoke to their father and Odin decided on a plan with Frigga. They announced that Maryn and Loki would be going to Nidavellir, the home of the Dwarves as envoys of the Allfather, to renegotiate the terms of their treaty with Asgard. King Hreidmar of Nidavellir had asked for the negotiation as a personal request of Odin.
Maryn and Loki were going with a guard of ten soldiers, Tora joining them as Maryn's handmaiden. Once they were packed and dressed appropriately in traveling clothes and cloaks, the group flew in skiffs to the Bifrost and Heimdall sent them through to Nidavellir.
Loki's arm wrapped around Maryn's waist a moment before the Bifrost pulled them into its rainbow vortex and she was glad of it because the force of traveling in such a way would have made her stumble when they landed on the soft grass at the foot of a mountain if his arm hadn't been around her.
"Thank you, my Lord," she murmured, her head bowed as she stepped out of Loki's reach once she had regained her balance.
Tora saw the tightening of the dark prince's jaw when Maryn stepped away from him and kept her head bowed in submission. The couple continued to hurt each other and the handmaiden wondered if they would be able to come back from such a thing.
"My Lord and Lady," A voice spoke up to their left and they turned their attention to a wizened old man who stood barely to Maryn's shoulder, his white hair and beard long with braids running through it. He was wearing dark brown clothes made of leather and linen but it was the gold chains at his neck and rings on his fingers winking with precious jewels which told of what he was; a Dwarf Lord. "I am Lord Barson and His Majesty has asked that I escort you to your chambers where you may rest and freshen up before the feast that is to be thrown in your honour tonight."
Loki stepped forward and inclined his head graciously, "My thanks, Lord Barson."
With a deep bow, the little lord turned and led the Asgardians into a crag in the rock face of the mountain behind him. As the darkness closed around them, Maryn couldn't help but slip her hand into Loki's own and cling to it not trusting the dark around them.
Tightening his hand around hers, Loki lifted his free hand and summoned a small lantern to light their way so that she would not be afraid. Lord Barson didn't comment even though the trickster knew he and his people had perfect eyesight in the darkness. The walk was long and on a small incline taking them deeper and deeper into the heart of the mountain.
Soon small lanterns which cast out blue light came into view at frequent intervals before the large group turned one last corner and stepped out into a monstrous cavern. The vaulted ceilings were at least twice as high as those of Odin's throne room and Maryn thought that the space could fit at least two of the palace's great halls inside of it side by side.
"It is wondrous is it not?" Loki's voice pulled her gaze from the carvings on the walls of the cavern depicting battles and mining accomplishments to his bright gaze.
Biting her lip, Maryn dropped her gaze to his chest, "It is beautiful, my lord," she answered him.
Sighing inaudibly, Loki reached out and caught her hand tucking it into the crook of his elbow as he led her after Lord Barson in silence once more.
The Dwarf Lord led the Asgardians out of the cavern and down another series of corridors lined with carved wooden doors before he stopped before a door wrought with sliver, "Your chambers, my lord and lady," he bowed low pushing the door open to reveal a large bedroom with a wide bed in the centre of the space, glowing blue and golden lanterns lighting the interior of the room and giving it a seemingly peaceful feeling.
Maryn's cheeks started to burn when she realised that they were to sleep in the same room and bed. Sensing her discomfort, Loki cleared his throat and nodded gratefully to their guide, "Our thanks Lord Barson."
The dwarf bowed low before speaking again, "Though you will only be staying with us one night His Majesty has decreed that a feast be set in your honour tonight, my lord and lady. I will come and escort you to the great hall when it is time for the feast." With that said he turned and made his way back down the corridor.
Loki pressed a large hand to the small of Maryn's back and led her into the room, Tora a step behind with two guards carrying their small trunks of belongings. Once the trunks were set down at the foot of the large bed, the guards left for their own chambers a little further down the hall. Tora closed the large doors behind them and then moved silently to start unpacking the trunks. It was only then that Maryn turned on the prince beside her. "This isn't proper, Loki. We are not married and yet share a room," she murmured unclasping the cloak she wore and vanishing it with a wave of her hand into the trunk that was hers.
Loki felt a jolt sear through him when he saw her casual use of magic, "This is the way it is done here, Maryn," he explained. "To the people of Nidavellir we are married."
Her grey gaze flew to his in shock, "But-but we are not," she gasped out panic setting in as his words made ideas flow through her mind, "We are not married, Loki."
His jaw tensed and his eyes glinted with annoyance, "This I know, my lady," he grit out, his face a mask of indifference even if his eyes were not. Turning on his heel he stalked to a squat, sturdy table carved out of stone on which sat a decanter of liquid a rich red in colour and two chalices of gold. Snatching up the decanter he filled a goblet with the dark dwarfish wine and downed it in one before refilling the goblet once more.
"What do you mean by that, Your Highness?" Maryn asked angrily, the tension from the last few days and his demeaning words the night of the feast bubbling to the surface.
Loki kept his back to her and Maryn realised Tora had left the room without either royal noticing. "I mean exactly what I say, princess. We are not married and we will not be married for another eight months." He turned to look down at her, "But this is the way of things while we are here so I strongly suggest that you learn to accept the simple fact that while we are in the realm of the dwarfs, you and I are married and will act as such."
She scoffed ignoring the warning in her own mind when she recognised the anger growing in him, "We may be married in the eyes of this people, my Lord Trickster, but that could not be further from the truth." Turning to leave him and escape into the connecting bathroom, Maryn gasped softly when his hand shot out and wrapped around her upper arm in a painless but completely unbreakable hold, "I have not finished speaking with you, woman," Loki told her lowly, his velvet, deep voice sending shivers down her spine as he leaned over her, "And you will not address me as such again."
"What title would you rather I use, my lord? Do you prefer Your Highness, or perhaps My Liege?" Maryn's heart started to pound in her chest as his darkening gaze dropped to her lips.
With a wave of his hand Loki's glass of wine floated back to the table he had picked it up from, "You misunderstand me, sweat one," he breathed, his hand, now free of the goblet he had been drinking from, rose and he picked up a lock of her hair from her shoulder, rubbing the silky dark strands between his fingers. Maryn's breath stilled in her lungs when his eyes snapped to hers, the green of them turned nearly black by some unconceivable emotion that she couldn't name; it was neither anger, nor love, but some emotion completely the opposite and amazingly the same, "You will not call me 'Your Highness' again." His words were said with a smirk to accompany them and his hand moved from her arm to cup her cheek, his long fingers brushing over her soft skin.
Maryn felt almost dizzy at the myriad of feelings he stoked within her with that simple touch, "What would you prefer I call you?" she asked her voice barely above a whisper.
He started to lean down and spoke when his lips were hovering over hers, his breath warm and heavy with the spice of the wine he had consumed as it brushed her lips. Gaze colliding with her own, Loki murmured, "My name falling from your lips is preferable to any title I have, Maryn."
She was trembling and her eyes widened as she realised that he was about to kiss her. Entire body yearning for the touch of his lips to her own, Maryn let her eyes flutter closed in anticipation.
A timid knock on the door of their chambers brought reason to the both of them and interrupted the moment. Loki growled in frustration, pressing his forehead to Maryn's when the knock sounded again, this time a little louder. He looked down at her before pulling back and stepping away. The moment he was not touching her, the princess's breath came back to her in a deep inhale, the heat from his body leaving hers when he turned to pick up his goblet of wine once more.
"Enter," he called; his tone indifferent.
Maryn glanced at him before she felt a hand on her arm and saw that Tora had re-entered the room from her own small maid's chamber that connected to the larger one through a narrow hallway and plain door set into the wall beside the bathroom door.
Their visitor was a small dwarfish girl who looked very young. She bobbed a deep curtsy, her eyes never once leaving the floor, "I'm sorry to interrupt but I have been sent by Lord Barson to draw you a bath if you so wish, my lord and lady."
Loki waved dismissively toward the bathroom door which stood ajar, "That will be fine."
Curtsying again the little maid flitted through the room and into the bathroom. The sound of water filling a tub came and then, on clouds of steam, out wafted the scent of jasmine and orange blossom.
Maryn busied herself helping Tora unpack the rest of the clothes and only looked up when the small maid darted back out of the bathroom and curtsied once more before leaving and closing the door behind her.
Quiet footsteps made Maryn tense as she leaned over her trunk and then Loki's long-fingered hand moved into her line of vision taking the gown from her that she had just been about to pull from her luggage. "Go and enjoy the bath," he spoke his eyes once more smirking at her when she looked up at him with a soft blush staining her cheeks.
"Th-thank you," she nodded before moving quickly across the room and through the bathroom door, closing it soundlessly and leaving Loki and Tora staring after her.
"Have I frightened her?" the tall prince spoke into the silence left in Maryn's wake.
Tora grinned down at the garments she was unpacking, "No, Your Highness, but you must let her come to terms with her want to kiss you before you do in fact kiss her. Have patience, she is still very innocent in her knowledge of love and the way she feels around you."
"Patience," Loki sighed running a hand though his raven hair, "Something which usually comes naturally for me but seems to evaporate the moment she looks at me."
Tora smiled once more noting that he did not deny his feelings as love, "Something which you must master if you want to her come to you willingly, Your Highness."
Glancing down at the gown he still held in his hand, the trickster sighed and dropped the garment back into Maryn's trunk, "And how do you propose I do that when we seem to fall to arguing ever since that cursed feast for my brother? Valhalla," he groaned, "I should have kissed her when we stood in the maze."
Tora grinned up at him teasingly, "Yes, my Lord, you should have."
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Once she had closed the bathroom door behind her, Maryn leaned back against it and took a deep breath before letting it out slowly, the trembling that had started to run through her body the moment Loki had wrapped his large hand around her arm, waned slightly, and she relaxed back against the solid wood behind her. A soft knock on the door at her back made her straighten and she opened the portal to see Tora smiling at her form the other side, "The queen gave me this to deliver to you when you had a spare moment to read it, Maryn," she handed over a small folded letter sealed with Frigga's signet impressed in gold wax.
"My thanks," Maryn nodded to her and then closed the door once more. Putting the letter down on a small stone table next to the tub carved out of marble that looked big enough for three people, she stripped out of her travel clothes. Sliding into the hot, scented water, Maryn relaxed and sighed contentedly allowing the worries of the last few days melt away and the heat of the water seep into her skin. Letting out a long breath she then turned and picked up the letter. Carefully she broke the seal and unfolded the heavy paper before reading the elegant script inside.
'Daughter,
I know that you and my son have weathered a rocky beginning to your relationship but I wish for you to know that I have never seen Loki as happy as he has been with you. He has purpose other than being Our second born or Thor's younger brother. Caring for you, teaching you, and, I believe, learning to love you has given him a lightness and joy which he did not have before. I know that you have lost so much in such a short time and I wish that I could take even a fraction of your suffering from your shoulders. However, as is the way of the world, it is not to be. Therefore, I hope that you and Loki mend this rift between you while you are in the company of the Dwarves. We love you, dear one and only want the best for you.
Loki is not an easy man to understand and love but I see the way you look at each other, daughter, and I can see that love and respect are growing between you both. Do not throw such a pure thing away because of a misunderstanding and some words said in anger. You and my son will make each other stronger, beautiful girl.
With all my love,
Your humble and loving Good-mother.'
Tears gathered in Maryn's eyes at the words Frigga had written to her and she easily vanished the letter into her personal belongings before sliding under the water of the tub, the queen's words echoing through her mind as she did. Sitting up once more, the brunette washed quickly, her thoughts racing to think of a way to speak to Loki and perhaps mend the rift between them.
Once her body was clean and her hair washed, she rose from the tub and dried herself using a spell Loki had taught her to dry her hair into silky curls that shone in a thick curtain down her back. Wrapping a silk robe around her body she called to Tora to bring her gown and undergarments into the bathroom.
The small maid appeared in the bathroom doorway, "My lady, the prince has stepped out to talk to the guards before the welcome feast tonight and to give you privacy to dress for the celebration."
Nodding Maryn followed her maid out into the main bedroom. She dressed quickly in her undergarments, and then Tora helped lace up her white shift made of the softest cotton before the faithful maid sat her down at the delicate wooden dressing table on one side of the room. Maryn watched in the polished silver mirror hanging over the table as Tora pinned her dark locks up into a bun at the nape of her neck, the intricate twists and curls forming the shape of a flower with wisps falling to frame her face and sit on her neck. Next she dressed in the gown Frigga had helped her choose before she left Asgard. It was made of dark grey-blue silk overlaid with a pleated chiffon layer of the same colour. Then over that was a lighter grey-blue silk overlaid with gold lace that was open at the front to show off the pleated skirt, but which covered her upped stomach to just below her bust in a tight bodice. The neckline of the gown was a 'v' shape and the lace layer continued up her sides and back and over her shoulders to form small, lace, cap-sleeves. Her slippers were made of silk the same colour as the gown's skirt.
Maryn had just stood from the dressing table's small stool, after Tora had applied a little makeup to her face to highlight her eyes and lips, when the door opened and Loki strode in. He was dressed in his ceremonial armour save his helmet and Maryn's heart stuttered in her chest at the sight of him standing so impressively just inside the doorway. The dark leather of the tunic, long jacket and breeches encasing his body seemed to make his limbs look even longer and his pale skin and inky hair shining in the soft blue-gold light of the room made his green eyes spark with emerald fire.
Heart in her throat Maryn stepped forward and asked barely above a whisper, "Do I please you, Loki?"
He seemed to falter at the sight of her and then he shook his head, "There is something missing, love," he murmured his velvet-deep voice sending excited butterflies through her stomach. His grin made her blush prettily. Crossing the expanse between them, he reached out and brushed his fingers over her right wrist before lifting his hand and brushing her earlobes one at a time sending jolts of heat deep into her belly, the caress of his magic against her skin making her mouth go dry. Stepping back the dark prince nodded to the mirror she had just left.
When Maryn turned to look into the polished disk she gasped; gold and sapphire earrings which looked like small blue suns hanging from elegant teardrop shaped chains dangled from her lobes and a thick cuff of gold, sliver, diamonds and sapphires encircled her wrist where Loki had touched her. She stood speechless, her eyes darting from one gift to another before coming to rest on the high cheekbones, thin but inviting lips, and piercing gaze of her betrothed, "Thank you," she breathed.
Loki stepped up behind her, his large hands coming to rest on her upper arm and hip. He kissed the back of her head and caught her gaze in the mirror, "You deserve so much more than what I have offered you, Maryn." He seemed to be talking about more than just the jewels.
The princess couldn't help but admire their reflections, the way he stood so protectively behind her, his graceful, long-fingered hands resting against her, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles into her flesh unconsciously. He may not be as wide through the shoulders and chest as his brother but Maryn knew there was great power coiled in the solid muscles of his battle-hardened body. Unlike others his strength was not only physical but mental as well. He had a quick, sly wit, his knowledge of his people and other worlds and languages was unparalleled and yet she had heard stories of his prowess in battle; he had never lost a fight. Studying their reflections as a whole she realised that although similar, they complimented each other beautifully; the jet-black of his hair seemed to bring out the fiery undertones in her own dark locks, her skin had a soft pink flush to it while he was paler still, and the green of his gaze made the grey of her own seem even darker. She felt safe in his presence and when he touched her all she wanted to do was melt into his embrace. Now more than ever she knew she had to tell him what she had been keeping inside since their fight days before. Taking a breath she turned in his arms and dropped her gaze to his chest before closing her eyes, tension flooding her body, "I will not change myself for anyone, Loki," she whispered hesitantly, "Not even you. I have lost too much already. I won't, I-I can't."
His fingers, calloused from building his skill with weapons and experimenting with potions and magic, caught her chin gently and lifted her face to look up at him even though she kept her eyes closed, not brave enough to see the look on his face, "And I should not have asked you to do so, sweet one," he spoke tenderly, "Maryn, my love, look at me, please." His plea nearly broke her and she looked up into his intense gaze, heart beating wildly in her chest. "Forgive me. I should have protected you from the cruelty of those women that night." His fingers slid up to cup her jaw and cheek and she leaned into his touch, "I will never forgive myself for the sorrow and pain I have caused you."
Shaking her head, Maryn wrapped her hands around his gauntleted wrist and pushed up onto tip-toe without even thinking, "Loki, please, all is forgiven. You were trying to teach me to harden myself against the brutality of court. For that I thank you."
His eyes searched her face and he spoke almost in a reverent whisper, "Valhalla, how can one such as I deserve a woman so pure?"
Blushing Maryn swallowed hard and turned her suddenly tearful gaze to his shoulder before lowering back to her heels and pulling away from him slightly, "I am not pure, my lord. Coros' blood is on my hands and the dark magic I used to rip away his own power still courses through me." A single tear slid down her cheek and Loki brushed it away with the pad of his thumb.
Tipping her chin up once more, the tall prince searched her face seeing the truth and pain in the depths of her stormy eyes. Knowing she needed more than words to calm her self-loathing and perhaps ease the pain in her heart, he leaned down and gently brushed his lips against the softness of her own.
With a small, near inaudible gasp, Maryn's hand flew to his chest and she blinked before closing her eyes and sinking into the cool caress of his lips as he pulled away slightly before pressing another gentle kiss to her mouth. The light pressure of his large palm against the her lower back brought Maryn a half step closer to his chest and the touch of his lips against her own increased slightly. She tilted her head back and opened her mouth with a soft sigh, his tongue sliding between her lips sensually, heat coursing through her body as he stroked her tongue with his own once and then twice, before pulling away again.
She looked up into his eyes to see the bright green of his irises had darkened to a deep emerald. His hand lifted from her chin and he ran the backs of his fingers over her cheek slowly enjoying the way she leaned into his touch, her eyes fluttering closed and a soft smile curling up the corners of the sweet lips he had tasted at last.
Maryn sighed, her cheeks glowing with a soft blush at the feel of his gaze on her face and more importantly on her lips. Smiling contentedly she stepped into him and wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her face against his chest and wishing she could stay wrapped in his strong arms forever.
A quiet knock on the door of their chambers drew them apart and Tora moved quickly from where she had slipped silently into her own room to allow her princess and Loki to talk together to open the door.
Lord Barson stepped into the room and bowed low to the prince and princess, the chains around his neck clinking together as he did, "The feasting awaits, my Lord and Lady. Please allow your humble servant to escort you to the Great Cavern where his majesty has called for your presence."
Loki inclined his head graciously and then offered his arm to his betrothed.
Biting her bottom lip in an unknowingly inviting way, Maryn slipped her small hand into the crook of Loki's elbow and then allowed him to lead her out of their room as they followed the little Lord, the change between them subtle but noticeable to those who cared to look.