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Next morning, Throne Room (Pronouns used for Loki: they/them)
Loki nervously paced the marble steps in the throne room, their heart beating faster with each passing moment. The grand doors swung open, and the two remaining suitors—Sylvie and Njal—entered the hall. The air seemed heavier with anticipation. Loki cleared their throat and clasped their hands behind their back, trying to steady their nerves.
"I wish you a lovely morning, Lady Sylvie," they said, giving the giantess a respectful nod. "Prince Njal. I hope you're both doing well." Their voice wavered for just a second, but they quickly regained composure. "Today is finally the day I will choose my partner."
Loki cast a glance toward their mother, who sat with a warm smile on her face. Frigga's gaze was encouraging, full of love and support. Loki exhaled slowly, a deep breath to center themselves before continuing.
"I choose... I choose Sylvie," Loki announced, their voice steady, but with a trace of emotion. "I want to spend my life with you. You're a wonderful woman, and you’ve stolen my heart." They turned their attention to Njal. "Njal, you're an incredible man, and I have the utmost respect for you. Don't ever change who you are. Even though I have chosen Sylvie as my wife, I would be honored if you would come to our wedding."
The Vanir prince nodded, his expression solemn but kind. "Congratulations, Prince Loki. Princess Sylvie. It would be a pleasure to attend your wedding."
The weight of the moment passed, and after clearing a few more details with their father, Loki and Sylvie made their way toward the gardens of Asgard. But not just any gardens—Loki had brought Sylvie to one of Frigga's special rose gardens, a place filled with memories and magic.
As they walked, Loki's hand subtly tightened around Sylvie’s, a gesture of comfort, of promise. Sylvie’s white dress fluttered in the breeze, the fabric dancing lightly around her as they strolled through the garden. Loki pulled a small key from their pocket and unlocked a gate that led them into the enchanted space. They held the door open for Sylvie, watching as she stepped inside with a soft gasp.
"Wow," Sylvie murmured, her voice filled with awe as she took in the scene. The garden was lush and vibrant, filled with roses of every color imaginable. Bees and butterflies flitted between the flowers, creating a scene of tranquil beauty. The air was heavy with the sweet scent of the blossoms.
"Isn't it breathtaking?" Sylvie asked, turning to Loki, her eyes shining with admiration.
"Just like you," Loki replied with a grin, their words sincere. They gently pulled Sylvie closer and spun her around before drawing her into a kiss, soft and sweet, full of love.
Sylvie’s smile was radiant as they pulled away, and she leaned her forehead against Loki’s. "I’m so glad you chose me, Loki."
Loki smiled in return, their heart swelling with affection. "I’m glad too, Sylvie." They turned, taking her hand in theirs, leading her further into the garden to a secluded corner beneath a weeping willow tree. There, a beautiful wooden swing hung gently from one of the branches, inviting them to sit.
"Sit down," Loki instructed softly, gesturing toward the swing.
Sylvie obeyed, slipping her sandals off and tossing them aside, relishing the coolness of the grass beneath her feet. Loki stood beside her for a moment, a feeling of quiet anticipation in the air. They searched through their pockets, their fingers brushing against the edges of something small and soft. Finally, Loki pulled out a small black velvet box, their pulse quickening as they knelt in front of Sylvie.
"Sylvie," Loki began, their voice steady but filled with emotion. "Before we get wed tomorrow, I wanted to formally propose to you, to make all of this arranged marriage business feel a little less… impersonal. When I first saw you walk into the throne room that day, I was struck speechless by your beauty. But soon after, I discovered that your heart is even more beautiful. You deserve everything in this world. You understand me better than anyone else does, and I feel like I’m safe with you holding my heart. Sylvie, my love... will you marry me?"
Sylvie’s eyes welled up, and without a moment’s hesitation, she jumped up from the swing, landing in Loki’s arms. Loki lifted her effortlessly, spinning her around in joy. "Yes! Of course I’ll marry you, Loki!" she exclaimed, her voice thick with emotion.
Loki set her back down gently, taking her hand and sliding the delicate silver ring onto her finger. The ring was adorned with a rose design, its petals filled with tiny black diamonds, and at its center, a radiant emerald stone gleamed in the sunlight.
Sylvie examined the ring with a gasp of delight. "It’s beautiful, Loki."
Loki grinned and lifted Sylvie once more, causing her to yelp in surprise. They both sat down on the swing, Loki carefully settling her on their lap. Holding her close, Loki pressed a kiss to the top of her head.
"I love you, Sylvie. I promise, until the end of time, I won’t change my mind." They whispered the words, feeling the sincerity in their heart.
"I love you too, Lokes." Sylvie smiled up at them, using the playful nickname that only she ever called them. Loki couldn’t help but smile back, pressing their lips to hers in a kiss that sealed their bond.
For the first time in a long while, Loki felt complete, content in the decision they had made, their heart entwined with Sylvie’s in a way that felt natural and right.
But in the deepest, most forgotten corners of Asgard, something stirred—something ancient, something dangerous. What neither Loki nor Sylvie knew was that a certain person, long thought to be lost and imprisoned, had awoken. And with that awakening came the promise of a storm, one that might threaten everything Loki had fought for.
The winds of fate were shifting, and Asgard’s future, along with Loki and Sylvie’s happiness, was about to face a new challenge.
