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shakespeareanqueer · 4 years ago

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A Royal Engagement: Thunder

Pairing: Thor x Alfheim!Reader ♥️ Arranged Marriage AU

Summary: You are married off to the prince of Asgard, whom you have never met. He adds some Midgardian customs to the proceedings.

Contents: Arranged marriage AU. A shattered cup. Idk that should be it

A/N: All righty y’all! I have a bunch of fics due this weekend for various challenges and this is just the start so off we go! This is for Constantaking’s 250 Writing Challenge. My prompt was "I don't want to be loved. I want to feel appreciation for my existence, that's all.", which is bolded. There is an accompanying piece for Loki, if this one garners enough interest. Enjoy!

I saw advice not to put links in original fic posts for searchability reasons, so I will reblog with my taglist, tagging Constantaking, citing the header photo and the divider, and linking my masterlist.

A royal wedding in Asgard was a grand affair.

You sat in front of a vanity in the guest chambers you had been granted use of for this occasion, trying to steady your breathing. Behind you, servants you had never met before today were adjusting your hair, your skirt, your bouquet.

The only servant you did know, your best friend, Ragna, knelt beside you and held your hand.

“Are you all right, your highness?” Though her words were formal and perhaps stiff, her expression loudly communicated her concern and friendship.

You nodded, the movement small and barely perceptible, but it caused her to visibly relax.

She assured you, “I’ve heard the prince is a kind man, with bounteous love to give, your highness.” But that wasn’t what you wanted to hear.

You shook your head, and a pin came loose from your hair. The servant behind you scowled but said nothing as she set about fixing it.

“I don’t want to be loved,” you told your friend matter-of-factly. “I want to feel appreciation for my existence, that’s all.”

Ragna smiled softly. “I’m certain that you will, your highness. If by no one else, than by me.”

You smiled and gripped her hand tightly in yours. “And that means the world to me, Ragna, truly it does. But you understand why I am nervous.”

“Of course, your highness,” she said quickly. “Marrying a stranger is a nerve-wracking affair if ever there was one. But by all reports, he is a good man. I have much hope.”

Your smile brightened. “As do I.”

The last piece of your preparation was your bridal crown. It was a family heirloom, passed down for generations. It was a tradition to have one, but your family’s was particularly unique. The band was a braid of gold and silver, embossed with blue lapis lazuli gems. Across your brow, two bronze lions faced each other. It hung a little low because your head was smaller than your great, great, great, great, grandmother’s, but the servants found a way to style your hair to help it stay up and in place.

You took a few more calming breaths in the mirror, and then it was showtime.

It was an arranged marriage, yes, but the match wasn’t random. Thor would never allow himself to be indiscriminately married off to some unknown princess. He did his research. And he had already fallen in love with the idea of you. Now all that was left was to fall in love with the real you, and he had high hopes of that happening, as soon as he finally had the privilege to meet you in person.

And today was that day. He was buzzing with excitement as his servant clasped his armor.

By and by, Loki sauntered into his chambers.

“Do you feel prepared, brother?” he asked. He was leaning against the wall, his customary smirk on his face.

Thor turned to face him with a wide grin. “Loki, I feel I have been ready for this day my whole life.”

Loki gave him a skeptical look. “I would say you were far from ready to marry a stranger when you were still in love with that Midgardian woman.”

Thor’s head bowed and heat crept to his cheeks. “I was misguided then,” he whispered.

Loki chuckled. “I never thought I would see the day when you were officially over her. You mourned that relationship ceaselessly, it seemed.”

“Well, I have ceased,” Thor said decisively, straightening his back.

Loki was still eyeing him suspiciously. “You are prepared to commit yourself to a complete stranger?”

Thor shook his head. “I am prepared to commit myself to a woman I know is intelligent, and beautiful, and is prepared to serve by my side as my queen. Perhaps I have not formally met her in person, but that which I do know of her is leaps and bounds ahead of any other relationship I have engaged in in the past.” A servant meekly attempted to pass an ornate sword into the crown prince’s hands, and he gazed at it with reverence. “I am prepared to do my duty.”

Loki walked over and placed a hand on his brother’s arm. “I commend and admire you, brother. I could never undertake such an endeavor.”

“Well,” Thor smiled conspiratorially. “I can imagine it would be nearly impossible, when one has met the love of one’s life already.”

“I have not—Who are you—What—” Loki spluttered.

Thor laughed deep and hearty from his belly and slung his arm around his younger brother. “It is very obvious, brother. One only need see how you look at her to know. There is no use denying it.”

Loki took a deep breath and stared off into the distance past Thor’s shoulder. Several moments passed, and Thor began to grow concerned.

“I suppose I have not allowed myself to accept it because I know my fate must be as yours is,” Loki finally whispered.

Thor frowned. “Why? You are not crown prince. Why should you be unable to write your own destiny?” Thor’s tone was not bitter or jealous or sarcastic in any way; it was sincere. He honestly just wanted his brother to be happy.

Loki forced a smile. “Enough discussion about the affairs of my heart. This day is yours, brother.”

Thor relaxed and pulled his sibling into a tight hug. “I never mind sharing with you, Loki.”

Loki was surprised to hear that sentiment and it took him a moment to process it, but once he had, he melted into his brother’s embrace. When he pulled away, he was smiling, and to Thor’s relief, it seemed less forced.

“Time to get you wed, brother.”

You always dreamed of walking down the aisle to see the love of your life waiting for you, his face aglow with admiration for your beauty. It was an unrealistic dream considering your position; you always knew it was much more probable that you would end up married off to a prince you had never met.

What you did not expect was to walk down the aisle to meet a complete stranger, gazing at you with the reverence of a lover. It took your breath away. You never would have dared hope for such a reception from a man you had never met, no matter how promising the reports of his kindness. But he was positively beaming as you walked slowly towards him. The crystalline blue of his eyes actually began to water, and the music faded away in your own ears as he became the center of all your focus.

Thor was enraptured by your beauty. Heretofore, he had seen only painted portraits, and they did not do you justice. Your dress was a stunning royal blue that matched the stones in your diadem. It went all the way down to the floor, so you seemed to be floating toward him more than walking. An angel warrior from Valhalla bringing his happily ever after right to him.

When you finally reached the dais where he stood with the officiant, Thor broke the script a little. He grabbed both your hands and kissed the tops while looking right into your eyes. You couldn’t help but blush at his sweet actions.

“A union is a powerful creation,” the officiant began. They continued, but you didn’t hear much of anything. Thor was looking at you so intensely, so reverently, that all you could focus on was him. You were only jogged out of your reverie when the officiant said, “And now for the exchange of swords and vows.”

Thor took a step back, then unsheathed the sword at his side. The blade was long and elegant, the hilt weighty and noble with its red stones with golden streaks like veins running throughout. He knelt to the ground, holding the weapon out in front of him like an offering.

“This sword belonged to my grandfather, Bor,” he said. His voice at once filled the hall and felt intimate, spoken right to you. Right to your heart. “In all its millennia of life, it has never seen another as beautiful as you, I am certain of it. I surely have not, in my fifteen hundred years of existence.”

He cleared his throat and began his version of the traditional vows. “I bestow this heirloom upon you formally to welcome you to my family, to guarantee you fiscal security and independence, and to honor tradition. I give you this gift as a token of my esteem. To it, I attach a promise: I will forever be faithful. Every day I shall work towards the betterment of our relationship, and do my utmost to ensure your happiness.”

Thor looked up into your eyes and began to go off-script, into a personalized bit of vow that sounded more like something one might hear at the marriage between lovers, not a contract marriage between two foreign powers.

“Each day I shall endeavor to get to know you better and to like you more. I guarantee respect and esteem, and I shall strive towards love. I thank you sincerely for agreeing to be my bride, and shall honor your commitment with my own. I look forward to our future together with great hope, but more importantly, determination. Determination to do right by you in all the ways I can, for the rest of our days together.”

By the time he was done with his speech, your eyes were so full of water, you were afraid the moment you opened your mouth the dam would break. You felt ashamed of your rote and memorized vows, nervous to continue with the ceremony, but carried on as best you could. You unsheathed the sword from the holster around your waist and extended it. Though you weren’t expected to, after a moment, you kneeled to the same level as Thor, so you could more easily look him in the eye. It felt like an authentic, organic way to increase the intimacy of the moment. Your sword was cooler colors, contrasting the warmer tones in Thor’s. Purple and blue ceramic made the handle glitter in the lamplight of the hall and the fading sunlight filtering through the tall windows. The long, thin blade was more delicate than Thor’s, but had its own elegance.

You cleared your throat and began, your voice wavering a little. The acoustics of the room allowed your voice to carry further than you expected, but your volume was lower than Thor’s.

“This sword belonged to my great-aunt, Erika,” you began. You thought over the words memorized in your head, the gendered phrases you resented because they displayed you as a passive recipient of a gift, which made no sense to you because you were bestowing a sword same as he was. Kneeling had helped even the playing field, but you determined to do even more, even if improvising wasn’t your greatest skill.

“I accept your heirloom and am honored to enter your family,” you continued as expected. But as you went on off-script, you heard scattered gasps in the audience. They shook your confidence slightly, but you plowed through. “I bestow this heirloom upon you and invite you to join my family as well. I know you have no need for the fiscal independence this treasure could provide, but, symbolically, I bestow that as well. I honor tradition, and seek to create our own, as we create our own family by combining two mighty royal houses.”

You dared to look at Thor then, and he was beaming at you. His expression of admiration spurred you on, and you began to forget once again that there was even an audience.

His words had touched you so deeply, you sought to emulate them as close as you could, merging your memorized vows with his. “I give you this gift as a token of my gratitude, and also my respect. It accompanies a vow: I shall forever be true. Every day I shall strive towards the betterment of our relationship, and do my utmost to ensure your happiness.”

Your heart was hammering in your chest, but you were determined to match Thor’s level by adding some personalized vows, not because you sought to one-up him, but because you wanted to prove your dedication.

“I acknowledge I am entering a royal house with deep-seated traditions that I shall try to honor. I acknowledge that I am entering a family with dynamics that I shall try to navigate. I acknowledge that I am marrying a man, not a crown. So though I pledge allegiance to a new kingdom, my true allegiance is to its king, my husband. If and when the day comes, I shall rule by your side with grace and dignity, and always strive to do right by Asgard. But first and foremost I shall strive to do right by you, Thor. I look to the future with hope, but an active hope, one that drives action towards a better tomorrow, with you.”

Thor’s smile was so wide you thought it must be hurting his face. Since you were kneeling, he stood, and more gasps emanated through the audience. This was not the way the ceremony was supposed to go; he was showing a type of submission by allowing you to slide your sword into his holster first before rising and allowing him to do the same. But this move proved his dedication to an even and balanced relationship, and you were immensely grateful for that.

Once you were both risen, the swords sheathed, you took hands and faced the officiant again. They were smiling warmly at you, not at all perturbed by your improvisations.

“A union is a powerful creation,” the officiant repeated themself from earlier. “A creation unique to each couple. Passion ebbs, beauty changes, but commitment is timeless, and a strong bond that is continually fought for, is hard to break. Everyone please rise and bow to your crown prince and your new princess as they depart for the rest of their lives.”

Everyone in the hall rose to standing, then bowed their heads. Some in the aisles went all the way to their knees. You were a bit overwhelmed by the pomp; nothing quite so dramatic was the custom in your old kingdom. But Thor wound your arm through his and gently led you through the crowd. His ease was infectious and you found yourself calming.

Once outside the doors of the hall, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. A servant led you to a small room, more of a closet really, where you were told to wait with your new husband until all of the guests had migrated to the banquet hall. The space was cramped, so you were face-to-face with Thor’s broad chest.

Using his fingers, Thor tilted your chin up so you could look him in the eyes. It was an odd angle for your neck, but you found you couldn’t look away from his dazzling sapphire eyes. He was smiling again, which caused wrinkles to appear in the corners of his eyes that were just so endearing.

His silence was making you nervous, so you broke it by softly saying, “Thank you for the kind words in your vows.”

His smile grew even wider. “Of course, my bride. Thank you for yours. They mean even more, being extemporaneous.”

Your face heated up and you pulled your face away from his grip so you could avert your eyes to the floor. “Was it that obvious?”

Thor chuckled and led your gaze back to him, with his hand on your cheek this time. “Due to their heart only, I promise,” he assured you. His tone was so sincere, you couldn’t help but smile back at him.

There was silence between you two for another moment, but this time it wasn’t awkward. It was sweet and comfortable.

Now it was Thor’s turn to break the silence. “I do not know if you are aware,” he said, “But I have spent a fair amount of time on Midgard.”

“Yes, I—I heard that,” you stammered. “Do—Did—Do you enjoy it down there?”

“I do, yes,” he confirmed with another chuckle. “But I did not raise the topic to make small talk.”

“Oh.” You could feel your face getting hot again from embarrassment.

But Thor’s gaze held no judgment whatsoever, nor did his tone. “I have attended nuptials on Midgard, and there are a few traditions there I am fond of, that we do not have here on Asgard, and I do not believe you have either, on Alfheim.”

“Such as?” you asked.

He reached up to a shelf above your head and pulled down a tiny velvet box. You had no idea what could possibly be inside a box so small.

“Well, for one, they exchange rings,” Thor explained. He flipped open the top of the box to reveal two simple gold bands inside.

You tilted your head and furrowed your brow. “But, your messenger presented me with a ring when he revealed your intention to marry me.” You extended your right hand to display the gorgeous ruby he had sent you. “I wear it daily. It is beautiful; thank you.”

“On Midgard, there are engagement rings, yes, but there are also wedding rings, exchanged on the day of the marriage ceremony. The perfect circle represents unending devotion. While the engagement ring is a token from the asker to the betrothed, the wedding bands are a sign of mutual affection. They are meant to be simple gold or silver; perhaps that is symbolic also, though I do not know.”

Thor was fidgeting with the box now, clearly nervous that he had overstepped with his introduction of a foreign tradition. You smiled softly and reassuringly at him.

“They are beautiful, and the sentiment is lovely,” you said. “What finger does it go on?”

He relaxed, and his relieved exhalation of breath fanned over your face in the small space. “Your left fourth finger,” he answered. “That is apparently the finger most connected to one’s heart.”

You nodded and extended your left hand. He slipped the smaller of the two bands onto your finger. It fit perfectly.

Then Thor handed the box to you. “Would you please do the honors, my lady?” he asked, then extended his right hand and wiggled his fingers.

“I thought you said it went on the left hand?” you asked.

He looked down at his hand for a moment, then quickly switched them. “I did indeed say that, yes.” A blush was rising to his cheeks, and you couldn’t help but giggle.

Once you had placed the ring on his finger, he took the empty velvet box from you and placed it back on the shelf above your head. Your ruby ring was on your right hand, and your wedding band was now on your left. You were gazing at them and rubbing the bands with your thumbs when Thor spoke up again.

“There is one more Midgardian wedding tradition I, um, thought I might bring up to you,” he said. The nerves had slipped back into his voice again.

“Yes?” you asked, looking up at him expectantly. He felt a surge of hope and gratefulness at the sudden thought that he would have the privilege of having you look at him like that frequently for the next several thousand years, if he was lucky.

“At the end of the ceremony, the officiant says the following words.” Now it was Thor who couldn’t look you in the eye as he tried to remember the words from long ago. “‘I now pronounce you legally married. You may now seal your union with a kiss.’”

Your eyes widened.

Thor began to ramble nervously, “That is the modern, gender-neutral version, which I prefer. The antiquated version is, ‘I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride,’ which I am less a fan of.”

Thor’s nervous rambling was really quite endearing, and you couldn’t help but giggle again. “All right,” you agreed.

“All right?” your new husband asked breathily.

“We are now legally married,” you said. “And now we have these Midgardian-style wedding bands. So it only makes sense that we should seal our union with a kiss, as you say.”

“Good, good,” Thor said, but he made no move.

You licked your lips. “While I appreciate your commitment to gender equity by preferring the more neutral version, I actually do not mind the other one,” you admitted. A moment passed; Thor didn’t understand. “So go ahead and kiss the bride,” you urged in a whisper.

“Oh,” Thor exclaimed in sudden understanding. Then he placed one hand on your waist and the other on your cheek before leaning in for a sweet kiss.

Your lips had barely met when the door to the little closet was swung open. You separated hastily, and the guard was gracious enough to pretend they had witnessed nothing. “It is time,” they said, and began to lead you to the banquet hall.

“May I present, Prince Thor of Asgard, and Princess Y/n, originally of Alfheim, now of Asgard!” the attendant exclaimed as you and Thor walked arm and arm into the grand banquet hall. Most of the room was occupied by a series of long oak tables, all overflowing with the most lavish meal you had ever seen in your life, along with seemingly endless bottles of wine and flagons of ale. Seated on the benches were all the noble citizens of Asgard, and they all cheered and raised their cups when you entered. On one end of the room, there was a dais with two grand thrones, in which were sat the king and queen of Asgard, your new parents-in-law.

Between the dais and the tables with the guests, was a strange space. The stone floor had been covered with wood in a square large enough for maybe fifty people, maximum, and only then all squished together shoulder to shoulder. Only the space was empty. Not only that, but there seemed to be a strange aura surrounding the space, almost like a force field.

Thor wrapped an arm around your waist and explained while he walked you through the room towards the back. “Another Midgardian tradition at weddings is to dance on a dance floor. I wanted to present us with that opportunity.”

You furrowed your brow. “Dancing is traditional at Asgardian weddings, I thought.”

“Well, yes, at some point in the evening, when people are inebriated enough, some of the tables will get pushed to the side, at the expense of all the ale on that table sloshing to the floor, and people will dance around in merry jigs. But at Midgardian weddings, there is a nice balance of joyous dancing, and… more… romantic dancing.” Thor rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “So my mother used her magic to create that little space. It is sound-proof, and there is music only within it. It was her wedding present to me.”

“That is very sweet of her,” you said.

Just then you arrived at your destination. A small table was set up at the back, near the tall, glassless windows, just for the two of you. Thor pulled out your chair for you, like a gentleman.

“Thank you, my lord,” you said.

“Of course, my lady,” he replied. As he slid into his own chair, he added, “I hope you do not use that formal language because you feel obligated. I want you to feel comfortable with me.”

You gave him a small smile, already beginning to relax around him. But it would be a process. “And I shall, my lord, I am sure of it. In due time.”

Thor nodded, and waved at a servant standing against the wall to come pour the wine and serve the food. “Perhaps we can take the opportunity of this intimate setting to get to know one another better,” he suggested.

“Yes, I do think that is its purpose,” you replied with a smirk.

He narrowed his eyes at you playfully. “I see you have some smartass in you. Well, I know how to deal with smartasses. I have one for a brother.”

You laughed then, heartily, and it felt good. It felt freeing. It felt like the first full breath you had taken since you had stepped foot on this foreign planet.

“May I ask…” you began.

“You may ask anything, my bride,” Thor said eagerly, sitting up straighter, prepared to answer even the toughest of inquiries.

But you merely asked, “Why are the windows open? I mean, why are there no panes?”

Thor smiled then, and stood up to go to the window nearest the both of you. Confused, you followed him.

“This is why,” Thor said cryptically, holding out his arm. For several long seconds, nothing happened, and you just stared at him. Just as you were beginning to get concerned, you heard and saw an object hurtling towards you at an impossibly fast speed.

You gasped, and went to push Thor out of the way of the speeding projectile, but he simply chuckled and stood his ground. He was an immovable block of muscle, so your attempts to save him would have done nothing anyway. The object, which turned out to be some sort of hammer up close, came zooming right into his hand.

“Ah,” you said in understanding. “Your own version of Mjolnir.”

“My own version?” Thor asked with a tilted head.

You shrugged. “Does not every prince have a ceremonial hammer for the wedding? For placing in the bride’s lap as some sort of stake of his claim over her? My older brother had one.”

“Ah, yes, of course,” Thor said. “For ceremony.” He indicated for you to sit and placed the hammer on your lap, just as you remembered it being done at your brother’s wedding. The hammer was surprisingly heavy on your thighs, but not achingly so.

It was a bit awkward to eat and drink around the hammer, but you managed. You also managed to talk and get to know each other quite a bit through your first dinner together as a married couple, your first dinner together ever. Thor was easy to talk to, kind and smart and considerate. Unlike many men you conversed with, he did not talk over you, or wait the entire time you were talking just to respond. He truly listened and responded with compassion and curiosity.

As dessert was cleared away, you were feeling very hopeful about the future.

“Well, my lord,” you said, your language formal in a more teasing manner now that you were feeling more comfortable with the prince, your husband. “There is a dance floor that was your idea simply begging to be danced upon. Since your brother and his friend abandoned it, it seems so lonely.”

Thor nodded as he wiped his face with his napkin. So polite, for an Asgardian man, you thought. You saw out of the corner of your eye as one of his warrior compatriots slammed a stein of ale on the ground, sending shards of ceramic shattering everywhere, and cringed at the crudeness of it all. Wherever Thor learned his more refined manners—whether it was due to his upbringing as royalty or his time on Midgard—you appreciated them immensely.

“Yes, let us dance,” Thor agreed.

You removed the hammer from your lap and went to stand, and as you did so, Thor simply stared at you.

“What?” you asked.

Thor shook his head and grinned broadly, nearly as broadly as he had back in the ceremony. The light of his smile made your heart warm. “Nothing, my dear. Let us dance.”

And you danced with your husband, hopeful for the future.

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