Hostage to Love

Coronation Day

They stood at the top of the steps outside the palace. Ari and Loki. A Queen and her Prince. They were heading to the coronation ceremony. This was the final chapter in her transition from Princess Ari, throwing apples from trees to Queen Ariadne, binding the houses of Asgard and Vanaheim.

"Dear Gods, there are a lot of people!" She whispered from behind a fixed smile. Loki could feel her shake as she stood, her hand on his outstretched arm. She nodded to left and right, acknowledging the cheers of the crowds within the palace courtyard. Loki glanced across at her, and his reply, although invisible to the gathered people, was loud in her head.

"There are so many people because you are so loved. You are their queen, and they love you for it." he omitted the afterthought of "not all, though, Ari, not all."

There had been rumours of rebellion in the outer reaches of her kingdom. Those opposed to the joining of their houses and, worse yet for Loki, the involvement of Jotunheim. Even now, the Frost Giants had a fearsome reputation. It was no secret now, his heritage, although no one had ever seen any evidence of it. Not since... well, the raid on Jotunheim that almost cost Odin his life saving his sons.

Putting his disquiet to one side, Loki turned and bowed deeply and then guided Ari down to the waiting carriage. She found it awkward to move in her coronation robes of green and gold velvet edged with fur. The robe was of necessity, heavy. It was adorned with the symbols of rule, the symbols of Vanaheim. The colour should, traditionally, have been red, but in deference to her devoted husband, who would today become a Crown Prince of Vanaheim; she insisted on green.

They wore matching robes, albeit Loki's were much less voluminous, hers covering a white dress meant to represent humility in the presence of the Gods who had appointed her. He wore his green leather and was altogether more comfortable. A fact he had not wasted in teasing her as they dressed. She'd reverted to her girlish self, throwing her hairbrush at him and sticking her tongue out, making her maids laugh and cover their mouths.

Loki had merely laughed and turned the hairbrush to a rose before it hit the ground. The maids dissolved into ooh's and ahhh's, the Queen's husband was so sweet. It amused Ari to think what they'd have made of the Loki she knew, who could blast a man to atoms just by thinking about it.

As the sun beat down on them, they descended the steps. Reaching the carriage, she climbed in and sat back, Loki sitting next to her. This time, in her hair, no jewels, no precious gold or silver. This time, flowers. White Stephanotis, a delicate little star shaped flower, made into a crown for her and a buttonhole for Loki. It represented purity and marital happiness, fitting given that Loki was to be crowned a Prince of the realm alongside her. At the moment of coronation, the flowers would be replaced by the state crown, a gilded and heavy affair, adorned with rubies and diamonds. It would be the only time she would see it, other than being carried in front of her at her funeral, just as it had been at her father's.

As they processed through the streets to the Great Hall of Kings - and now Queens - she felt the emotion of the moment, heard the cheers of the people and the cool, loving hand of Loki resting on top of hers, hidden under the folds of her robe. They each waved to the sides, a smile here, a glance there. Flowers were thrown under the horses' hooves as they approached, the scent of a million roses reaching them as they passed.

Thor attended as a representative of Asgard - Odin, with Ari's blessing, wanted him to step up and undertake more royal duties - and he was accompanied by Jane. They wore traditional Asgardian clothing, and Jane wore some of Frigga's jewellery. She looked every inch the princess and, as a token to Ari, carried a small bouquet of stephanotis.

Finally, out of the melting sun, they stood ready to process to the altar.

"Ready love?" Loki asked in a quiet moment between all the cheers and the ceremonial.

"No, but here we are, eh?" Ari smiled at him, and he nodded.

"Said like a true Queen." he looked straight ahead as the heavy wooden doors swung open. Inside, the assembled throng turned towards them.

A fanfare sounded, and they walked slowly forward. The scent of incense filled the air, the low chanting of the priests calling on the Gods to attend, and the rising heat of the building all contributing to an atmosphere that threatened to overhelm Ari.  She stumbled slightly, and Loki looked at her sharply. He could see the sheen of cold sweat on her brow. 

Without pausing, he closed his eyes and cast a spell.  Instantly, Ari - and only Ari - could feel a fresh mountain breeze fanning her, cooling her.  She looked round to where Loki studied her intently.

"Thank you, my love," she whispered and smiled, making his heart swell.  It made him so happy every single time she called him her love. He would never tire of it.

At last, they reached the simple wooden chairs in front of the altar.  Gone, the gilded thrones of the palace. These were the chairs of the penitent. Chairs of modesty in the face of Gods greater than any Vanaheim ruler. 

Loki let Ari sit first, and then he took his place as the ceremony began. 

It took HOURS. Both Loki and Ari, now they were seated with really nothing to do until the climax of the proceedings, got very tired and very, very bored.  The business of kingship was never advertised as a bundle of laughs, but this? Norns, this was dire!

Suddenly, as they bowed their heads in what felt like the 50th prayer in the last two.hours, Ari heard Loki's voice.  She didn't move. She just shifted slightly in her seat to let him know she heard him.

"Dear Gods in Valhalla, this is dire!"

"Shhhh."

"But Ari! He's got the personality of a wet horse blanket. Smells like one, too!"

"Stop it. He's very old and very important!"

"Odin is very old, but he doesn't reek of linament and... old people!"

"Shush. You'll make me laugh! This is supposed to be serious!" She allowed herself a small twitch of the lips, still head bowed and eyes closed. Loki was skating on the very thin ice of her self composure, and he knew it.

"Ok. I promise to be quiet after I tell you one more thing."

"Ok."

"Thor’s the god of thunder.
He rides upon his filly.
‘I’m Thor’ he cried.
His horse replied:
‘Then get a thaddle thilly!’"

Ari burst out laughing. Her face puce from holding it in. The priest stopped, the Lord Chamberlain, stopped, the whole room stopped.  Loki almost self combust with glee.

Ari looked around her, a regally calm expression now her face.  "I do apologise, please, continue...." she glanced at Loki, whose lips were pursed like a cat's bottom, trying not to laugh.

"You, sir, are in for a world of pain later for that!" She thought as she looked at him.  He nodded slowly, his lips un-pursing as he did so.

"Oh, I do hope so darling, I really do!"

Ari turned back to the proceedings, a final thought flitting through her mind.  God of mischief by name, God of mischief by nature? Never a truer word spoken. 

As the priest continued to drone on, she couldn't have been more content.