Authors Note- There is a point in this chapter that led to me having to research. And, with that in mind, my partner came into the room to find me crocheting whilst watching videos on duel axe-wielding techniques. I'd just like to offer you all that mental image. A 5ft 2 woman, crocheting a pastel rainbow crop top whilst watching scholagladiatoria demonstrate the proper hooking technique of an axe on a shield.

If you'd like to see the crochet, come join me on Instagram - my username is gimli_reads and I'd love to follow you guys back and share crochet, my puppy, and pictures of the British countryside.

A cottagecore dream

Enjoy the fluff folks, this chapter is packed with it 3 the italics are a flashback, I'm going to be using them throughout this series to tell us how we got to this point. To keep us going with sweet sweet fluff

She'd started learning her traditional wedding dance with Thor, of course, she had. She'd gotten to the room, she'd sat. And waited.

And waited.

And waited.

It wasn't painful, or difficult. Indeed, the sun was shining down, illuminating the already golden room with honey-bronze light. Aela was laid back against the stone frame of the open window, tipped back to take it in - the smooth sandstone floor cool against her lower half through the thin, gauzy dress. With the enhancements at her wrists, the sun was warm but comfortable, not too hot.

Loki knew. Within their mental network now, he could feel her annoyance at being disregarded, her grumbling beneath the enjoyment of the sun that once again her betrothed had seen fit to forget their appointment. This wasn't the first time, and wouldn't be the last. She'd met with him once previously and had accepted his apologies twice now. Had rested knowing a third would come. He always apologised, always sent flowers or wine or a handwritten note bemoaning that his duties as protector of the realm, as the future king, had drawn him away. It still happened though, time and time again.

Apologies were meaningless if the action continued, she'd mused over the very fine apology wine he'd sent. Empty words, empty gestures, without the corresponding change. Politeness for politeness sake.

Actions had always meant more to the Nifl than words.

'Am I not enough for you now?' Loki teased down the bond, the chuckles from the bears joining her own internal amusement at the situation.

She concentrated, glad it was getting easier since her asgardian gifts had been bestowed.

'Absolutely not. I've decided that what I actually want is monogamy with Thor. It's that flop of golden hair and wonderful sense of humor'

'I have spent many years enjoying his conversation skills, I understand your choice, truly'

She smiled, enjoying the warmth on her face. It wasn't that she was angry that he wasn't wooing her, or taking their marriage seriously. It was the nerve of him to ignore her. To show such a lack of care.

"Sister?"

She looked up, stretching her toned arms above her head as she did. Her sister had taken to Hilde, to Dagne, almost immediately. Happily travelled with them, with her, taking in the beauty of Asgards palace. She was with them now, the three fitting together in a way that still sent a small spike of hurt through Aela. She didn't want to be possessive, but couldn't help but feel the same way she so often did in Niflheim, the way she knew Thor made Loki feel. How had she been here little more than a week and had already made such strong friendships.

Regardless though, a wide smile, a true smile, split Aela's face. She had wanted to throttle her sister often enough when living at home, fighting for space and renown and respect, but she truly missed her since leaving. Had welcomed her with open arms into her chambers, into her life in Asgard. Had taken her for rides along the wide expanse of countryside, shown her the small alcoves of beach, lapped by crystal clear water.

"Have you finished your dance lesson?"

"It has yet to start" Aela had chuckled, groaning slightly as she stood, as she dusted the non-existence dirt from her dress. "My betrothed appears to have been called elsewhere"

Astrid scowled. "He knows, surely, that you're expected to perform this dance in front of the nobles of Asgard, the lesser nobles too"

Aela smirked, holding a hand out to Hilde and bowing low. Hilde, in turn, span, accepting her hand and moving to the magically conjured music that filled the high ceilinged room as they began to move.

"I think so, Astrid. Given that it's his country and all. His customs"

Hilde let Aela sweep her across the room, twisting and turning, hands against hands. She laughed as Aela missed her steps, twisting too soon, clapping too late. "If I had a brother, or if my father wasn't away on a task for the King, I'd call them to help. Because I'm sorry Aela, but you're not ready for your wedding" Hilde teased.

"If brothers are the order of the day, perhaps Loki could be of assistance?" Astrid asked, and Dagne nodded enthusiastically from the sidelines. "He is a wonderful dancer, and I saw him within the library this morning. Whatever Thor and his warriors have gone to do, he was not with them"

Aela didn't need to pretend to contemplate. She truly wondered whether it was the right thing to do, to practice where others could see them. Whether it would be positive, to allow others to see his friendship, his dedication. Whether it would be negative, for others to see them so closely entwined.

"I'll ask him, tonight. We were going to play chess, but…"

Astrid shook her head. "We can all play chess another night, or I'll come and find you both before I sleep. I have some reports to read before I relax for the evening anyway - lots of planning and warrior numbers to go through for Father. Some sort of issue on the front lines that he wants me to look at. That...that I need to make sure I understand"

She hadn't needed to find him. Hadn't sought him out, as promised. A mere whisper between them and he joined her that evening, sunset streaming into the now-familiar room as they went through the moves slowly, carefully. As Loki showed her the best way to hold herself, to place her arms and legs. When to point and when to flex, when to jump and spin. It was heady, not hiding. Not showing any falsehoods. His hands were allowed to be on her waist. On her hands. Palm to palm and heart to heart, surrounded by music. Enjoying the true, small smile he so rarely freed from the confines of his mask. The soft humming as he got into the music.

Their laughter was true as her steps faltered. As she grinned and pouted and fussed. As the Bjornlings respectfully turned their mental link elsewhere, focusing on their own evening of revelry instead of the thoughts and actions of their leader. Leaving just Aela and Loki, Loki's thoughts coming through the bond as easy as breathing. Aela's responses taking a bit more effort, as always. It was getting easier though, every day they remained bonded.

'I wish I could kiss you' he whispered within her mind, tone full of promise, of affirmations. 'I cannot wait to dance with you when we are married, to feel your hand against mine as my wife'

'As my husband' she whispered back down the bond, stumbling over her words as she stumbled over her steps.

"I thought you were a dancer?" he asked, aloud this time. "I saw you, in Niflheim. You had poise, you were excellent"

"I am, but I have been practising the steps to those dances since I was a babe"

"This is no different to a fighting stance, and you pick those up like breathing, my Lady"

'When I fight I am one with myself. No pretence. I'm trying not to look as if I'm madly in love with you as we dance' she chastised against his mind, pinching his arm as the corner of his mouth twitched in answer. Not daring to say the words out loud.

He spun her away, fingertips barely touching as she stretched with the music before stepping forwards, clasping her hand in his and pulling her back in with another spin. Squeezing his hands against her waist, lifting her and twisting them together. The music flowed around them, the sunset changing to the deep purple of night, the low light from the lanterns that floated above their only illumination. She loved this man with her entire soul, in an all-consuming way, and knew it as they synchronised. As they moved as one. As their steps sped up, the dance easier at its true speed.

"This was your problem" he said softly, allowing the words to grace the room around them. "You tried to go too slow. We should have thrown you in at the full speed, rather than try and teach you slowly"

She laughed - the sound echoing around the chamber. He was right though, she'd tried to approach it slowly and found herself tripping. Going faster, led by a capable partner, and the steps came as fluid as a babbling stream. The music reached a crescendo and silence settled around them as their steps stopped. Deafening after the burst of strings that had surrounded them moments before. And then clapping. Slow, the kind of claps one would consider lazy, uncaring, if they hadn't have seen the intensity in the eyes.

If the eyes, so red, the same red as her own, hadn't been watching from the doorway. Her sister, her mother, both watching the friends dance, alone, bathed in the beginnings of moonlight. Loki stepped forwards, immediately confident. One hand extended.

"Come, join us, I'll teach you the steps. Especially as I fully intend to offer you a dance at my brothers nuptials"

Both of the intruders into the room knew her too well to think for a second that they'd just walked into two good friends dancing. They'd seen her with Eirik for enough years to know that the lines could blur between traditional friendship and a soul bond...and she'd never looked at Eirik the way she'd pointedly not been looking at Loki. There's only so much that can be hidden though, Astrid had warned her afterwards. Some of it radiates out, unbidden but obvious in its glaring happiness. Her mother had simply kissed her brow and had told her how happy she was that Aela had found happiness in Asgard. That if she needed help planning, to remember that she was always available. Veiled words, ones any listening ears would have taken as-

"If you need any help planning the wedding, remember I'm here to help"

Though Aela knew the true meaning was "I hope you know what you're doing, but if you need help with whatever the two of you are planning, I am here"

It wasn't her mother's eyes on her now though, but those of an instructor. Or what passed for one here, in this pit. It was her first visit, and she knew she'd put herself at somewhat of a disadvantage by appearing disinterested. She wasn't though, not that she could easily explain how she'd been feeling. She didn't have the words herself for the strange duality in her emotions. To go so suddenly from motivation to apathy. In moments of normality, as they shared food and she listened to stories around the fire; quietly, she promised truthfully that she would attend training. She wasn't giving falsehoods, in those moments she truly felt ready, eager. In the dusty light of morning however, she found herself too heavy to move, too burdened by grief to consider crawling from the tent to train. They'd left her to it, not knowing her well enough to feel as if they could force her. Leaving her lay, staring at the battered fabric that barely protected them from the outside. To her wandering around camp, helping wash dishes or mend clothing- until they'd realised she was hopeless with a needle and had sent her on her way. She chopped vegetables, stirred pots, not recognising the knowing looks on the faces of those who ran the areas, who were used to seeing soldiers with the same blank look she carried. Knowing to simply put something in their hands, to set them to stirring or washing or peeling. Letting them simply be.

That morning though had felt different. They'd left her a bowl of broth outside of the tent, a bread roll wrapped in cloth, and had simply gone without waking her. Without making the effort to ask. After an hour of just sitting, Aela had had enough. It was an odd sensation, an itching under her skin for a movement that she hadn't felt in some weeks now. Not just walking or scrubbing at soiled tunics until her hands were red, but for the burn of her muscles, the chance to get lost in her repetitions. She wasn't sure if it was the familiar sound of a training ring or just her muscles getting a mind of their own but the idea of spending another day simply staring into the fire or the murky grey sky, as she'd done on and off for a week or so…made her want to scream.

It was past morning now though, as she'd dragged herself to the training area and had accepted the knowing smile of the two newcomers. Felt ashamed of the pride there. She was a queen, a born ruler and needed to do better than she had been.

The ground was blank earth, churned and battered by the warriors atop it. They were in full swing, sweat sheening, split into groups. Those who were obvious, battle-hardened warriors were far to the right, sparring with dulled, metal weapons. They were good, really good, and Aela could tell from the sheer scarring that marred their skin, gnarled, twisted wounds that had healed badly, that they were used to battlefield healing. Used to rough stitches and getting back to it. The others were a mixture of obvious training and beginners, some practising with bows, others with swords and lances - all wood. Those who could, training those who couldn't.

"Wooden staves and swords only, no metal in here til I can trust you not to accidentally kill each other, alright?'

She met the assessing gaze of the instructor before nodding.

"What experience do you have? I've seen you in the mender's tents, the cooking tents, but not here. Are you trained in weaponry?"

Aela nodded again, and he reciprocated.

"I'll be the measure of that. Once I've got a feel for you, I'll sort you. If you're half decent, I'll let you train with the middlings. If you're very decent, I'll get you to help with the newbies" He gestured to the rack beside him, a surprisingly organised array of practice weapons. "Pick your poison, get comfortable, and let's go"

Aela rubbed her fingers against the palms of her hands as she assessed the rack. Did she start with a sword, slide into her lower stance and go through the movements she'd found so slow before? They felt solid now, sturdy, as her mind went through the familiar movements. There was a spear at the back, though the weapon had never been her preferred choice. It could switch from high to low in an instant and was always a fantastic tactical move, but she preferred being head-on, in the fight rather than poking from a distance.

There were a pair of axes though, right in the back. Wooden, chipped, no doubt horribly unbalanced...but she reached for them nonetheless. Felt the rightness of the handles in her palms, stained with the sweat of countless warriors before her.

"Axes, it's always axes with you Nifl" he chuckled, a warm sound that contradicted his surly expression. She could picture him being close with Themsal, and made a mental note to ask him who her allies were in camp. Who was loyal to her father, who was here to do a job, rather than chase glory.

Aela faced him, testing the balance of the two axes.

"You look confident with them at least, though that's not always the measure. I've had too many overconfident brutes come through here nearly take someone out with friendly fire. I want you paired up with Geva, he's about your size, lets see if you can be trusted with something a bit sharper"

He called for the opponent, and Aela slid off her jacket, and at the sight of the mud and dust-covered initiates, her tunic. Her under-top would do more than enough, and she had to admit a feeling of pride as she saw the instructor size her up, note the toned definition of her physique. Geva was a little taller than she, but similarly built, and he bowed his head to her before grabbing a wooden sword and shield, the bow he'd been demonstrating forgotten back at the targets. He raised the shield as she raised her axes, and the instructor moved to better see the two. "Now, nothing too fancy, I just want to see that you can wield them, not your perfect backflip, alright"

Aela snorted, breaking focus for a second and startling backwards as a sword suddenly entered her peripheral. She raised her axe to block, surprising the warrior with a grin. "Shouldn't have lost focus there"

"You're less angry than I expected"

"There's no politeness in real battle" Aela shrugged, feigning high and hissing as the low blow she'd aimed towards his hip was dodged at the last second. He was quick, as fast as she was. They were a good pairing, the instructor obviously knew his troops, knew their skills and stances. He swung again, and she blocked him each time, flipping the nearest axe to parry the blow against the wood, keeping the 'blade' against her fist for security. They toyed with each other, and the surroundings melted away as she felt the focus come, felt herself slip into the comforting blanket of training, of the fight she had always craved. Always loved. The thudding of her axes against his sword, his shield, the sound of his sword hitting her handles, the tree where she'd been moments before. It was beautiful percussion, as grand as any orchestra to her tired mind, her weary soul.

Finally, he stepped back to breathe, and she considered the same but chose to push forwards, to spin the axes until both felt secure. She double feigned, letting him bring the shield forwards, into her range, before hooking the curved blade around the upper rim and locking it against her. He tried to pull back but couldn't, and found as he went to move his sword up that she'd locked that too, the same move but against the blade of his sword.

"What now?" The instructor asked, watching.

"A swift headbutt and -"

"And I'd be dead" he interrupted, letting the shield go slack and moving away at the instructor's gesture. His weapons replaced on the rack closest to him, he held out a hand to shake. "You're well trained"

"All my life" she replied, proud of the soldiers she'd been surrounded with, the fights she'd endured. It felt wrong though, to not have the final step be a bears jaws crushing his skull...something she'd been too lazy with. Something she'd need to un-learn.

"Grand in a real battle, but down there, in the pits, we're facing off against the undead. They can die again, but only with the right weapons. Charmed, so...unless you fancy getting a horn full of very much still alive restless spirit… let's stick with weaponry moves. I'd have recommended dropping the axe and using a dagger - we all carry one, you'll be getting yours today"

Aela smiled, the steadfast words of the tutor meaning more than she'd expected. "I've graduated to pointy?"

He laughed. "Aye, I'd say you've graduated to pointy, but everyone has a dagger just in case, so I wouldn't get too excited. Have you got another in you lad?"

Geva nodded, and the instructor held his hands out for the axes, placing them back on the rack and reaching for a sword. "Good, I want to see what…"

He looked at her expectedly, and Aela snorted as Bodil called her name from the side. "And we've already made her promise to train us!"

"Lucky you" he muttered, looking at Aela. "Well Aela, let's see what you can do with a sword"

She grinned, accepting the weapon and resisting the urge to ask for the Warhammer she'd just spotted leaning against his table. If he wanted to see swordsmanship, that's what he'd get. With a backflip, if she felt like it.