Hostage to Love

Judgement

Ari stood on the small balcony, gripping the stonework so tightly her knuckles were as white as the clouds she watched.

How DARE they treat her this way. She wasn't some prize mare, to be bartered off to breed.  Loki? Thor had been bad enough, but LOKI!? He was rude, arrogant, self obsessed, handsome, arrogant, tall, beautifully chiselled, and a thoroughly horrible person. How could she EVER marry someone so damned... she sighed. The only word that came to mind at that moment? Beautiful.

Oh, Mother! She dropped her head and prayed silently. Why am I doomed to a life with a man who clearly despises me? Why can I not marry for love?

"Because you and I are not destined for that."

She spun round. How the hell had he gotten in without her hearing? Her face must have reflected her shock; both at his presence and his comment.

Loki grinned and bowed. "Your presence is required by our fathers." He was careful to emphasise the 'fathers' there was no way in Hel he was going to let her think HE was remotely interested. 

"Stay out of my head, you... you FREAK!" she attacked him out of fear and ignorance. Fear he would see things she had no wish to show any man, let alone him. Ignorance because she had, as yet, no idea the skill with which he did these things. Skill he'd learned from the only woman who'd ever really cared about him.

"Freak?" He smiled as he fell into step beside her. "Oh my dear Princess, you have NO idea, do you?"

"And I have no wish to." She cut him dead as they reached the audience chamber. "If we must co-exist," she refused to even use the term marry, "then we shall do so. But do not be under any illusions Loki, you want my respect? You earn it." She smiled at him sweetly, poison in her every syllable. "I will respect you when you respect me, my... husband."

Loki watched as she walked through the door, head held high. Gods, she was infuriating! But Gods, he wanted to tame her. For the first time, he began to think this might actually be fun.

"Ahhh, Princess. Welcome back." Thor stepped forward and offered his arm. Ari inclined her head and accepted, placing a hand on his large arm.  She was never particularly tall, but compared to these two? She felt positively minute.  Walking beside him, she kept her eyes firmly forward, fixed on her father.

The hall echoed to the sound of their feet on the marble, the clink of the Princes' armour and the low hum of Odin and Oran passing the time of day.

Reaching the foot of the throne, Thor bowed, and Ari sank into a respectful curtsey.

"Father"

"Your majesty,"

Odin turned and, for once, smiled. 

"Princess. Are you rested adequately?" He even seemed pleasant. Ari knew there was nothing to be gained by being deliberately hostile.

"Yes, thank you, Your Majesty. You have been more than hospitable. I must apologise for my earlier outburst. I hope you will understand this is a lot for me to take in." She smiled and looked at him with genuine contrition.  Odin nodded.

"I realise you have perhaps been unused to the workings of political alliances until today. It is, with hindsight regrettable, that you learned of your destiny in this way." He smiled then turned to Loki.  "As for my son." He scowled at the now smirking Prince, "he had ALWAYS known what would be expected of him. His behaviour towards you has been inexcusable."

Loki glowered at his father then at Ari. With a snort, he turned on his heel and left, a derisory "send her to the seamstresses. At least let her LOOK like she is worthy of me."

Thor shifted uncomfortably, then leaned down. "Give him time, Princess. He's just a bit..."

"Unbearable?" She looked up at him with a raised eyebrow.

Thor laughed and nodded. "You'll be fine... Ariadne?"

"Ari."

They smiled and turned back to their fathers.

Oran walked down the steps to his daughter. "Ari, you know that I love you, and I only want the best for you - and us all. This match will secure not just our land but also your future. I hope you see that?"

"Yes, Father." She couldn't lie and look at him at the same time, so she looked at the ground. "I know what I must do."

"Good girl." He kissed her cheek, and she got the feeling that he really didn't care what she thought. At the end of the day, the kingdom came first in his eyes.  "Now, I must leave.  I will see you again at the wedding."

Now she looked up sharply. "Not before?"

"No child.  I cannot. It is a condition of our treaty. I remain in our lands. You, however, may visit your ladies to collect your remaining belongings.  You may wish to ask Peggi if she would like to come here until you are married?"

"And then?" Ari couldn't face the prospect of the rest of her life without her family.  Including Peggi.

"Then, my child, you will be a Princess of Asgard until you are a Queen. You will do your duty, you will rule, and you will no longer have the need of such people." His eyes hardened along with his heart.

Odin now walked to join them. "It is time for your father to leave. Make your goodbyes."

Ari suddenly threw herself into her father's arms, sobbing.  "Please, Daddy, please don't leave me here. I promise to behave. I promise not to make trouble, I will join the Sisters of Freya, anything. Just let me come home."

Even the hardest heart could not have failed to be moved by her pleading, and Thor put his hands on her shoulders, pulling her away gently.

Odin shook his head. "Control your child, Oran. There is no alternative. You know that."

Oran let Thor take her away, "I will see you again, child.  Farewell." He turned and faced Odin, unable and unwilling to let her see his pain. 

Ari sobbed and for once, gave in, letting Thor lead her to what would  now be her chambers. A guard posted at the large oaken door stood to attention, then pushed it open.

"Lady Ari, please, rest.  We will eat later, these women will see to your needs. Please, do not fret. All will be well. You'll see." He knew it would , could, only end one way. He had to make sure his brother made that way as painless as possible for this poor creature. None of this was her fault.  Sometimes, he hated being a Prince.

The gaggle of waiting women welcomed her in, oohing and ahhhing over her. They took her outer robe and shoes, gave her silken slippers to wear, and sat her on a chair laden with silk cushions as they combed out her hair. 

They washed her hands and applied perfumed lotions, the delicate smell of lavender designed to soothe and calm her. They tried to make her feel that this wasn't the single worst day of her life since her mother had died.

They failed.