Unholy Matrimony

One

•Thor
  "Thor?" Talia appears in the doorframe. I push the covers off my body, slowly closing the book and rising to my feet. "His Majesty would like to see you. He says it's important."

"Thank you, Talia," I murmur, leaning down and kissing her lips. She doesn't hesitate to kiss back, wrapping her arms around my neck as I push her against the wall.

"Um, guys?" One of my brother's handmaids says awkwardly. We pull apart abruptly, Talia blushing profusely. I laugh at her adorableness. "Idiots."

"You should probably go see what he needs," she bites her lip, twirling a lock of her brown hair around her finger shyly.

"I'll see you later," I whisper in her ear seductively. I could feel goosebumps growing across her arm.

Amused, I trudge to the throne room. The throne was carved of fine oak, crested with several jewels and decorative metals forming an elegant coat of arms.

My father sinks into it, a peaceful smile on his face.

"My son," he nods curtly.

"Father," I say.

"I have some very important news to share with you," his smile falters, "But I have a feeling you won't be too pleased. I have arranged for you to marry a goddess from a nearby kingdom."

My heart sinks. I already have Talia, I don't need anybody else! We were supposed to run away together, we were supposed to be together always. How will we do that if I am to be married to someone else!?

"What!?" I demand, anger surging through me.

"I think I've allowed you to dawdle with the handmaids for far too long," He said harshly, "Do this for your kingdom."

"I don't even know this chick! I have the freedom to choose whomever I want to marry," lightening claps, ripping through the sky like fireworks.

"Son, this is for your kingdom. For Asgard. They want to wage war."

"Then we fight and we win! We are gods, they are beneath us," I frown deeply.

He gazes down at me with hatred, "I have had enough! For once, think about your country's future other than your own! Have I not taught you to never underestimate the enemy? Do you even know whom I speak of!?" I waver. "The Hallewells. They're war gods, my son. And you are to marry their daughter, Y/n Hallewell. The decision is final. They will be visiting us for dinner tomorrow where you will meet the princess and you will at least try to get along with her. I ban you from ever romantically seeing Talia again."

My eyes widen. This ain't fair! And the worst part is, I can't fight with him when he's in this mood. I am to be married to some girl I've never known! Who names their daughter Y/n? Like, what the actual fuck!?

I storm out of the throne room, "Asshole," I mutter, venom lacing my words.

"Thor, what happened-" I turn to face Talia and instantly crash my lips onto hers.

I need to release my pent up frustration somehow.

I just hope Princess Y/n's not a bitch.

•Third Person
Meanwhile, Loki overheard the entire conversation. Sneaking around the palace was his thing, after all.

He smirks.

Now you know what it's like, brother, He thought to himself.

"Loki," Odin warns.

"Shit," he breathes out.

•Y/n
Our swords gleamed in the cool moonlight. Erik shuffled to the side and awaited an attack. I charged with a mighty cry. Erik dodged to the side in one fluid motion. I swiveled in his direction. His dark hood made his features indistinguishable. I thrust my sword forward, only to be met by Erik's sword. Both swords met in the air with a resounding 'clang'. I push his sword away from mine and duck, kicking his feet and allowing his body to crash to the ground before pouncing on top of him. I hold the sword to his neck.

He throws his hands up in surrender, "Fine, you win."

I grin triumphantly at my younger brother, "Again."

"Whatever," he sighs, pushing me off him.

I dig the sword into the ground, stretching my arm out to help him up. He grabs my wrist and brings my figure to the ground, laughing hysterically.

I roll my eyes, "Ha. Ha."

"Your Highness?" My handmaid calls from the palace. I ruffle my brother's hair before trotting to her. "Your father wishes to see you."

I nod and head to the throne room. I wonder what he summoned me for...

I curtesy politely and he smirks proudly. "Dearest daughter, this throne will someday be yours."

That throne was bathed in the blood of those who had fought for it and all the anger and wickedness in my father's hearts. And I will one day take it. He tells me this... way too often.

"So, I arranged for you to marry. You'll be meeting the lucky bachelor tomorrow."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"You need a king, no? I have arranged for you to marry Thor Odinson."

My knuckles turn white from clenching my fist too hard. I grit teeth from an effort to remain silent, my hunched form exuded an animosity that was like acid—burning, slicing, potent. My face was red with suppressed rage.

"Y/n?" He asks.

There's no point to fight him, he would never listen.

"I look forward to meeting him," is all I say before storming out of the throne room.

I just hope Prince Thor's not a bitch.