Thor shifts his weight from one foot to another, unable to mask his anxiety. Steve places a sure and steady hand on his shoulder to still him.
"Breathe deep, son."
He does as he is told, closing his eyes and drawing three deep breaths before he can tamp down the nervousness speeding his heart and shoving it upwards into his throat. The cool, clean scent of water and cut grass do much to soothe him. The eyes of the assembly resting on him do not unnerve him; it is the impending event that stirs his stomach in a melange of anticipation and apprehension. Tony smiles wryly down at him, winking. The silver at his temples has reached his scalp and his beard and the lines at his corners of his eyes are etched deeper than they had been when he first met him. He doesn't turn behind him, but he knows that besides Steve, there is Clint and behind him, Bruce. Just as they have been before in battle, they are firmly at his back in celebration.
He casts an eye over the audience, sitting neatly in white chairs. The Warriors Three are conspicuous in their dress, just as he is, but they are unfazed by the stares, their eyes only for their prince who stands on display. Fandral and Volstagg grin widely. Hogun does not, but he need not smile for Thor to know his joy. Only Sif seems withdrawn, as she has been since her arrival. He has no idea why. Others are present, too, most of them from Midgard, some of them from places further. He is proud to count all of them as friends of him and Jane.
There will be no ceremony on Asgard, due to the All-Father's fierce opposition to their union. It had been an argument more heated than any, but in the end, Thor counts himself the victor. He may be temporarily banished from the hills and halls of his home, but Earth is his home as well. He will surely miss the Realm Eternal, but he will take comfort in knowing he chose wisely. Midgard has more need of him than Asgard at present, and he has more need of Jane than anything else. It is a shame his father did not approve, for he would at the very least approve of the venue. A white tent houses them, protection from the strong spring winds of the lake, softly lit from within by fragrant torches. Wreathes of local and exotic flowers, all in a deep blood red, decorate the chairs and poles, accompanied by silver ribbon. They are his colors and Jane chose them without prompting.
Jane had been late in returning home two years ago. Only one week, but it had been long enough for fear to hold him in its delirious claws. He had nearly torn down every branch of Yggdrasil until Heimdall had called him back, informing him that Jane was in bed, asleep, safe and sound, leaving his king father to make all the appropriate apologies. When he had come to her and roused her with his frantic relief, she had only blinked her wide eyes, mouth round with surprise. She thought he knew.
It was then that he realized that she was slipping away from him and nearer to Loki. He had thought her guileless, but in her sleep-heavy eyes, he had seen a calm anger that did not match the mournful apologies of her words. It was then that he realized that he needed to make his move. The tracker was finished a year later and working, but only along Yggdrasil's trunk, which would be as good as they could hope for. It was small and discreet. They debated long and hard over how to deliver it to her so that it would be upon her person when she departed. It had been Scott's joking suggestion that it be placed within a wedding or engagement ring and Thor had latched onto the idea. She had rebuffed his rather informal proposal before, but that had been years before, when they both thought her to be laden with child.
When she said yes, he had been beside himself, more due to her agreement than to being able to slip a device on her unnoticed. Of course, it had not functioned correctly in the intended jewelry and that winter, she slipped away again, ineffective tracker in tow. They had found the plainer wedding band to be a better fit for the science and it was agreed that it would be given to her during the wedding instead and that Thor would have to be patient. He noted with some pleasure that before she disappeared, she had not removed the engagement ring and thus carried with her a sign of his favor into Loki's presence. A petty triumph, but one nonetheless.
His musings cease as the orchestra begins to play a soft, lilting tune. The procession begins. First through the entrance of the silken tent walks Natasha, her vibrant hair backlit by the sunset peeking through the archway. Her stomach is rounded; she is due in two months. Then, Pepper, showing her age, but no less graceful or lovely for it. Darcy follows, nearly stumbling through the arch in mid-laugh, her teeth bared in a full smile that prettily exhibits the mirth that always surrounds her. The music swells and Thor is unsure whether his pulse doubles in speed or stops altogether.
She walks arm in arm with Erik, who now makes use of a cane to assist his mobility. It is not on his friend his attention is focused, though. Tony whispers to him to close his mouth and he does with a snap. Her gown is simple, white trimmed with crimson, baring her shoulders and the elegant sweep of her collarbones. Red lips frame her smile, the smile she reserves for him alone, wide, toothy, and dimpled. She glows. There is a radiance about her, one that pales every other beautiful woman in the room. It shines in the intricate braid that curls her dark hair, in the torchlight that plays across her skin, and in the glint of her eyes, streaked gold and brown. Unlike the majority of their friends, she shows no mark of age. She is as beautiful as the day they met - maybe even more so. She is a revelation and from his chest outward bursts pride, love, and a multitude of other emotions he does not know or care to name. There is an elegance, a regality to her he has never before seen; even as she grins, she is serene, her shoulders squared and her chin high. Any questions he may have had regarding her suitability as a queen are quieted.
Erik presents her to him with a firm clasp of hands and murmured niceties before he takes his seat on the front row. Thor takes her tiny hand in his and helps her up the podium, with Darcy adjusting the train of her dress as he does so.
"Hey, folks," Tony begins. Jane looks toward him, but Thor cannot look away from her. "We're gathered here today to celebrate the union of Thor, the God of Thunder, and Jane Foster, the sexiest astrophysicist since Neil deGrasse Tyson." A laugh rumbles through the audience. "Just kidding, Neil."
Tony nods toward the aforementioned man, a colleague of Jane's, who laughs loudest as Tony mimes a phone and mouths the words call me. They proceed with the ceremony, but Thor can't hear over the roaring of blood in his ears. A flicker of movement catches his eye over her shoulder. He lifts his gaze to meet his brother's.
He is clad in a Midgardian suit, but there is nothing human about the green bleeding into blue in his irises. The color of envy. He smiles, but the smile is cold, a crude curvature of his thin lips that reaches no other muscle in his visage. There is something oddly stiff about him, as well. Loki raises his hand to wave and only later will Thor register that the hand was shaking. Sharp-bladed rage tears through his lovestruck awe as if it were all just cobweb. He opens his mouth to shout, to call his friends to arms, but is interrupted by Jane licking her lips and saying aloud, "I do."
Her expression is one of confusion. He looks around; everyone seems confused and Loki is no longer visible. Thor realizes he is trembling.
"Uh...Midgard to Thor?" Tony mutters, raising his brows.
"What?"
"Do you wanna marry Jane or do you wanna keep scowling?"
"Oh. I do. Want to marry her, that is."
Another laugh rises from the crowd. Thor is still angry, but also, he is torn. He is unsure as to whether or not he should raise an alarm - would that be wise, with all the defenseless present? Obviously, he has appeared to Thor alone. Would Loki be so foolish as to attack here, now, with so many great powers contained in one area? He has no allies now, as far as Thor knows. But how much does he know? How much does Jane? He slips the ring - the tracker - onto her dainty finger. She rises onto the tips of her toes to kiss him on cue, too short to reach his lips without his assistance even in her raised shoes. Her hands rest on his shoulders.
Is this how Loki will ruin this momentous occasion? By smirking over his beloved's shoulder? By simply being there?
He meets her kiss and the crowd erupts in applause. Fandral whistles, Darcy hoots. He walks through the reception like a ghost, smiling when prompted and thanking absently but politely, drawing upon his lifelong experience as the son of a king. When they take their first dance as husband and wife, Thor again sees him, but Loki does not make eye contact. Instead, he follows their path across the dance floor, face carefully blank. He is watching Jane. As soon as the dance ends, Loki again hides himself from view, but Thor is not so daft as to think he is not still there, lurking. For the rest of the night, Thor sees him in every shadow and in the reflection in the whites of every well-wisher's eyes.
It is only when they return to their rooms that he comes back to himself. Thor undresses Jane reverently, his fingers never parting from her skin as he unzips, unlaces, and unhooks. He is treated to the sight of her underthings, red as his cape, wrapped around her bare torso. Her lip paint smears across his own mouth, her hair falls free of the braid, and he takes her, loves her with his tongue and hands and heart. She curls herself around him when she needs more and breaks free from his grasp when it is too much. Jane is not coy or playful, nor is she desperate; she is fierce and predatory in her exuberance. And much stronger than he remembered. When she tugs at his hair or digs her nails into his back, he thinks if he were more human or if she were less so, she would draw blood.
Afterward, she sits at the vanity and delicately wipes away the colors applied to her face and removes her earrings. He watches her from the bed, lying on his stomach, back still stinging.
"I saw Loki at the wedding."
She doesn't turn to look at him; rather, she meets his stare in the mirror and to his chagrin, it is unsurprised. For a moment, she is silent as she chooses words she can say.
"It was an important event for family."
He can read between the pauses of her words to translate her true meaning out of the language of subtlety and half-truth - Loki's native tongue. Her tone is even, measured. Jane refers to his family; she has none of her own.
"You...told him to come."
She wipes her lips clean. She cannot tell him yes or no, cannot nod or shake her head, but Thor knows her answer to be yes all the same.
"Why?"
She turns on the small stool to look at him, breathtaking in her comfortable nudity. She still glows.
"Thor...we're very happy together, aren't we?"
He nods, though a small, quiet part of him is unsure if he is being truthful. It is his wedding night, but he has not been happy for a great deal of it. For lack of a better word, he is suspicious.
"I want everyone to see how happy we are. Especially people who don't want to see us happy."
Thor's stomach clenches and his jaw slackens. Loki's invitation was meant as a jape and he accepted it. She does what Loki had accused Thor of doing all along; flaunting his so-called superiority, rubbing Loki's nose in his successes. The tension that thrummed along the edges of the man's smile, the empty gaze that followed Jane more than him; those weren't created from his imagination. Not for the first time, he wonders at his brother's true feelings for Jane, outside of her connection to Thor. He remembers the shaking hand and thinks he has an answer.
"Why?" He asks again, aghast. He is resentful of his brother, that much is no secret. Still, he would never stoop so low as to be spiteful for the sake of it. He did not think Jane capable of it either.
"You didn't know where I was." She says softly, bowing her head against his displeasure. "I was...mad. I'm sorry."
He rises and takes her in his arms, leaning against the vanity.
"It has passed, Jane. I am not angry with you. He would have come, had you invited him or not."
She opens her mouth, thinks better of it, and simply sighs. What he said was true, but Loki may not even have known of their marriage had Jane not worn the engagement ring to see him - assuming their relationship did not rely on interested conversation about each other's lives and assuming he did not spy on them. He had been so proud at the time, but in hindsight, perhaps it was unnecessarily cruel. However, the very crux of his plan depends on Jane wearing the markers of their matrimony everywhere she goes. The fact that Thor can still feel some iota of sympathy for his brother is a surprising and discomfiting all at once. He has grown too soft.
He glances over his shoulder to the mirror and sees his back, streaked red with dotted lines of blood.
a/n: Next chapter is the last! If you guys like my writing, please send me a prompt to work with! Check out my profile for my pairings/fandoms.
