Hostage to Love

Accession....

Ari sat silently, looking out the window. She was fully healed physically, and they'd given her the all-clear to leave the healing rooms. Now, two days after the battle, she was going home. To Vanaheim. As Queen.

Loki had made all the arrangements while she slept and healed. He'd accompanied her father's body back, sat vigil overnight as was the custom, and then returned for her.

Now, together with Odin, Thor, and, at Ari's own request, Jane, they were heading to Vanaheim. The ceremony itself would be at sunset tomorrow. Thereafter, there would be a feast celebrating King Orans' life. After the strict mourning and the funeral itself, the feast was seen as a celebration. The deceased now entering Valhalla for an eternity in a warriors paradise. As a rule, Vanaheim funeral ceremonies resembled those on Asgard but differed in one respect.

Where Asgardians were sent to Valhalla in burning boats over the edge of the world, in Vanaheim, they were set upon a huge funeral pyre that was lit by the torches of the remaining family. As Queen, it would fall to her to place the first torch.

The other difference was the colour.

Black. Everywhere. She dearly wished she could have observed that, but circumstances were what they were. She just had to accept it was difference, not ignorance.

There was a noise behind her, and she turned slowly, healed she may be but still stiff she certainly was. The sight that met her eyes made her smile, cry, and leap out of her seat all at once.

Loki walked in, but not a Loki she had EVER anticipated. Dressed head to toe in black. His long coat was beautifully embroidered butter-soft leather with silver buttons. The embroidery, in silver, was pure Vanaheim symbolism. The only nod to either Adgard or indeed Jotunheim was his own rune entwined with Ari's on the stand-up collar.

A black silk shirt underneath, black leather trousers, and plain black boots. His hair fell in shining ebony curls down his back, slicked back off his face.

Putting her hands out to him, she felt herself enveloped in his warm arms. She would, from that moment, associate the smell of leather with comfort.

"You're wearing black!" She sobbed into his chest. "Black..."

"Of course I am, my love." His voice caught in his throat as he took in just HOW much this one simple gesture meant to her. "I am sorry I ever denied you that courtesy for Peggi." He kissed her head and then pulled back a little.

"I have something for you, if you'll allow me?" He stroked her cheek, and she nodded, wiping her eyes.

He clicked his fingers, but instead of the green glow she expected, two ladies filed in, also in black, carrying a black gown, shoes, and coat. "I had them made for you. As Queen, you should have the very best."

They set the garments down, and Loki stepped back, "I should go and check Thor, Jane, and my father, are ready to leave. Your ladies will help you." He kissed her softly. "I will be back soon... kjaer."

She gasped slightly. He'd even learned her own dialect word for beloved. She smiled and blew him a kiss.

The ladies stepped forward and helped her out of the blanket and plain linen shift she'd been wearing during her healing. They took her through to the little ante-room where a bath had been prepared. They washed her beaten body and her now matted hair with the warm water and perfumed soaps. They lavished her skin with delicately scented oils. Then, they dressed her in the gown. When Loki had presented it to her, she'd been too overcome to really appreciate it.

Now she saw the work that had been put into it. First, a silk shift, embroidered in silver with mourning flowers - lilies. Over that, a heavier brocade overdress split at the front to show the shift. This time, plain but set with jet stones at the bustline and the shoulders, where a soft sheer cape flowed to the floor.

The shoes were black silk, and the overcoat was made in the same brocade and had a black fur collar. The extra layer would be needed for the sunset ceremony. Loki had gone to a lot of trouble to understand the intricacies of Vanaheim ceremonial.

As she dressed, they combed her hair and set a silver and jet tiara in it. Under other circumstances, she would have loved it. Under these? With the care Loki had taken? She adored it.

She was just ready when he reappeared, accompanied by Thor, Jane and Odin. All dressed in black. She smiled weakly and tears, despite her best efforts, fell like rain. "Thank you." She managed at last, "thank you for your kindness."

Thor stepped forward. "It is we who should thank you. If it were not for you..." he stopped, and Jane walked forward, dropping into a deep curtsey.

"I owe you my life... my Queen." She looked at the floor, but Ari offered her hands and helped her up.

"Jane, no, you must never curtsey to me - you, after all, are as royal as I - or will be!" She smiled, and Jane blushed. "I know you have a life on Midgard, and a love here on Asgard, but when we are together? You are my companion, my friend, and a trusted sister." She kissed Jane on each cheek. "Now, we should go. Is everything ready?"

Loki nodded and offered his arm. "Come kjaer, time to pay tribute to your Father and a good King."

They walked out, followed by Odin, then Thor and Jane. Her ladies in waiting fell in behind. As they passed through the palace, the guards stood to attention, black armbands on their uniforms. Mirrors were hung with black ribbons, and palace staff wore black.

"All this just for me?" She said softly as they reached the horses that would carry them to the Bifrost. Loki looked down at her, his eyes full of pride and compassion.

"No, my love. All this for a Queen."

When they arrived in Vanaheim, a cortege of carriages and soldiers, all in black, met them. Ari recognised some of the grooms and drivers from her life in the palace. People she'd ridden with, joked with and yes, sworn with on occasion.

Today, however, it was as if that was another life. She was not now, as she was then. Men bowed low, and ladies curtseyed as she passed. Out of their line of sight, she clutched Loki's hand so tightly that he thought he might lose the use of it.

"You are doing so well. I am so proud of you." His voice echoed in her head, and she didn't need to look at him to know his lips had never moved.

As they arrived at her palace, the home she'd once thought never to return to, the Lord Chamberlain appeared and bowed low as she descended from the carriage.

"My Lord Chamberlain, I thank you for your assistance. My husband tells me you have been most helpful." She offered her hand, and he kissed it respectfully.

"My Queen, it was my honour to help Prince Loki in any way, and it will be my continued honour to do so for you. Your rooms have been prepared and also for your guests. Please, when you have rested, there will be dinner in your private apartments. There is a formal reception this evening for our nobles - the ones we have left - to pay their respects."

Loki bristled slightly at the inference, but Ari, assuming the countenance of a Queen without a thought, squeezed his arm where her hand still lay.

"I and my family, thank you. My husband and I would like to retire now. I am much wearied from my travels, as you know I have been... unwell."

"Your Majesty... your Royal Highness... this way."

A few minutes and what seemed a million stairs later, they entered their apartments.

"Please leave us. My husband shall assist me." Ari turned to her ladies who bobbed their curtseys and left.

The door closed, and there was silence. Loki watched as she walked over to the window and looked out. He thought he might burst; he was so proud of her.

"Ariadne Oransdottir," he said quietly, solemnly, "Queen of Vanaheim, Princess of Asgard... my wife." He walked over and took her in his arms. "I have NEVER been prouder than I am at this moment. Of the woman you are, the wife you are, and the queen you will be."

"Oh Loki, I'm so scared. I need you more than ever. This is only the beginning."

"I am here, kjaer. I am going nowhere."

As she nestled in his arms, she could only pray that nothing would stop that from happening.