A Thousand Years

The light breeze through the orchards calms your restless soul. You run your fingers through the soft grass at your sides before plucking out more flowers add to your crown. The sound of hooves on gravel breaks you from your wistful reverie and your eyes follow your sister as she ties her horse to a post and makes her way over to you. She glides her way across the field before sitting herself down across from you, as graceful as ever. She picks up your completed wreath and places it delicately on dark curls, then folds her hands into her lap. You look from her hands to your own, still working on the flower crown and try not to think about why she’s here.

“Father was displeased you weren’t at breakfast,” her melodic voice disrupts your unpleasant thoughts, “he was worried about you.”

Your hands stop working on the crown as a snort escapes you. With a roll of your eyes, you finish the crown and place it atop your own head. “That’s about as likely as me being agreeable with something,” you say with a grin.

Your sister laughs in that infuriatingly endearing way of hers as she clasps your hands in hers. “just because he’s been acting your king lately does not make him any less your father,” oh Edrice, ever the diplomat.

“He should be my father first and my king second. Do you truly think sending me away is a sign of his love?” you pull your hands from hers.

“Oh, bear,” she sighs “if he had any other choice you know he would take it.”

“He’s shipping me off to be married to come boorish brute!” you snap at her, instantly regretting it “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be taking this out on you.”

“I understand your anger and frustration-” you’re quick to cut her off.

“Do you? Because last time I checked you were unbetrothed and set to live with our family in the home we grew up in for the remainder of your life.”

“That’s not fair,” your sister rises and brushes off her dress.

“No! what’s not fair is being sold to a savage by your own family,” you stand up too, stray flowers and grass falling from your clothes.

“They are not savages and we are not selling you!” Edrice snaps, freezing you in place. Seeing her like this is strange, she is normally calm and collected, always the perfect princess.

“Oh please, you know as well as I that they are savages. He is a warrior prince from a warrior realm. They pillage and plunder and settle disagreements with violence.”

“Our people have been to war too, we are not exempt from this judgement,” your sister reasons.
“Our people have been to war once in the last 10,000 years and that was because the almighty king of Asgard called father to arms. We would be exempt from this judgement if it weren’t for those Asgardians.” You stride away from her and across the field.

“I’m sorry, but your feelings don't change anything. An agreement that is beneficial to all has been reached and we cannot back out of it now.” You stop and turn towards her.

“Beneficial to all but me. If it’s such a great deal why don’t you marry the prince?”

“You know I can’t, I’m the oldest, so I’m next in succession for the throne. You are the next eldest and therefore the most eligible,” your sister walks forwards, reaching out to you “I would take this burden from you if I could. Truly I’m sorry.”

You pull away from her “you keep saying those words but I’m beginning to feel you don’t know what they mean.”
You whistle for you horse you let graze in the fields and ride off, leaving your sister behind and wishing you could leave behind your problems too.

The stars are already shining high in the sky before you even think to return home. You make your way through the vast halls before pushing through the large double doors to the dining hall. People stop what they’re doing, the room goes quiet, all eyes are on you. You stride confidently to the royal table and pretend as if the attention doesn’t bother you. Your fathers' brow furrows in anger and your mother tries to hide her shock at your abrupt and dishevelled appearance. Your hair a mess, dress torn, dirt upon your face and clothing, flowers and twigs falling from your locks as well as a permeating smell of mud and stables. You take your place in between two of your sisters.

Before your father can get a word in about your appearance or tardiness the doors open again and a courier announces the arrival of the Asgardian royal family. They make their way to your table and take their places. Odin across from your father, Frigga across from your mother, Thor across from Edrice and Loki across from you.

“Odin, a pleasure to see you again, what has it been, 3,000 years?” your father shakes hands with Odin.

“It has been far too long Madu,” Odin and your father laugh heartily.

“Allow me to introduce my family, I believe it has grown since we last saw each other. You remember my wife Thema?”

“yes, yes, the lovely Thema. It seems the years have been most kind to you.” Odin kisses your mothers’ hand as she smiles warmly.

“And you, my king.”

“These, of course, are my lovely daughters-” your father starts but is cut off by Loki.

“I was unaware you allowed servants to dine with you, let alone at your own table,” the dark-haired prince comments.

“Loki,” his mother warns.

“I’m terribly sorry your highnesses, I went for a ride and lost track of time. I didn’t want to be any later by fixing my appearance, but I would have if I’d been aware of company,” you apologise, plastering a contrite sorry face. The dark-haired prince quirks a brow but says nothing.

“Yes, I am also sorry about her appearance and the shame she brings to our family,” your father shoots a glare your way.

“Nonsense my friend, she is young and full of life. My boys were much the same way at her age. She will learn, as my boys did.”

“I see your kindness and chivalry have only grown,” your father smiles charmingly.

Before anything else can be said Frigga interrupts “With that out of the way, maybe you could introduce us to your daughters?”

“Ah yes, of course,” your father clears his throat “my eldest, Edrice.”

Your older sister blushes as the king and princes kiss her hand and pay her compliments.

“The improper one next to her is y/n.”

The king kisses your hand, Thor shakes it with a look of disdain and Loki doesn’t touch it. “You’ll excuse my bad manners but I fear she hasn’t washed it,” Loki apologises but your father waves him off.

“You smell like a horse,” Thor comments quietly, so his parents do not hear.

“And you look like one,” you retort quietly.

“Next to y/n is Khepri, and then the twins Mosi and Kissa. All of whom I believe you have not met,” your father finishes his introductions.

“What lovely daughters you have, they must get it from their mother,” Odin beams as your parents laugh. “Last I remember Edrice was on her way to being a young lady, off-world to finish her studies I believe. And y/n was a rambunctious child causing chaos wherever she went. And if I remember correctly, the lady Thema was with child.”
Your parents continue to talk to Odin and Frigga as you pick at the food placed in front of you.

“I have to say, I had no idea my betrothed was so beautiful,” Thor’s deep voice gives you pause, you look up to see him talking to a blushing Edrice. Loki sits beside him pretending to eat but looking entirely too pleased with himself.

“I thank you for your kind words your highness but it is not me you’ll be marrying. I must stay here to rule my people and you must return home to rule yours, which is why you’ll be marrying my sister, y/n.”

The prince’s smile freezes on his face as his crinkled blue eyes stray over to you. You give a jaunty little wave and an exaggerated wink, his face screws up in disgust, “you mean this Bilgesnipe?”

“I’m sorry but I have no idea what you mean,” her smile becomes more uncertain.

“I think the closest equivalent to your people would be Nefrite,” Loki grins at your sister’s puzzled look.

“I don’t know what that is, but my brother is usually right about these things,” Thor claps Loki on the back and you feel satisfaction as he spills his drink. “So yes, you are a Nefrite,” he grins.

You glare at your betrothed. “Due to your obviously limited brain capacity, I will make this simple for you. I-no-marry-boorish-oaf Thor, I-also-think-Thor-will-rule-Asgard-to-ruins.” You stand up from the table, chair scraping loudly on the floor. “And I’ll have you know, I do know what a Bilgesnipe is and I do believe you bare an uncanny resemblance to one’s saggy left nutsack.” With that you turn and storm out the dining hall, slamming the doors behind you.

…
Unfortunately for you, your ghastly appearance and short temper did not deter Odin, especially with your father fighting tooth and nail to smooth things over. Despite your best efforts, the betrothal remained steadfast. It might have had something to do with Thor’s uncharacteristic insistence upon it. Even worse, the handfasting ceremony is fast approaching, you will head to Asgard with your family, some of your belongings and a small convoy of servants and guards that will remain with you at your new… home.

“If only you could come with me Galahad, this all wouldn’t seem so frightening if I had you by my side,” you sigh as your brush down your beloved stallion. Alas, his breed is suited for warm weather and sunny regions, it’s been known to get quite cold on Asgard, it snows there once a year.

Galahad, nor any of his brethren, would flourish on such a planet, you doubt if some of them would survive. You’re sure he would, he’s the best of the best, but it doesn’t mean he’d be happy.

Galahad huffs at your melancholy mood, he’s not one for theatrics. Just riding through fields of flowers at top speed, wind in hair and no saddle on his back. It’s the simple things.

“I know you’re not one for tears, but this was our last ride together, I leave after breakfast. We’ll never see each other again,” you wrap your arms around his thick neck and bury your face in his mane. “Edrice promises to brush and feed you regularly, and when she’s big enough, Khepri will ride you every morning. I’ve convinced Lance, the stablehand, to sneak you treats wherever possible, you’ll be well looked after.”

You pull away with great effort if only you could remain in this moment for the rest of eternity. Instead, you place the brush back on it hook and exit the stall, shutting the door and scratching Galahad one last time, his soulful eyes looking deep into your eyes, it seems he understands this is your last moment together. He shakes his head slightly, messing up his just brushed mane, and places a gentle lick across your face.

“I love you too buddy,” you place a kiss on his nose “I’ll miss you most of all.”

..
There was a pain in your chest as you said your final farewells to Galahad, it only worsened when you said goodbye to Lance.
Only to be followed by your last meal in your own home, then having to say goodbye to your home and your people.

There was an emptiness inside of you as you looked one last time at the place in which you grew up. Where all your memories, good and bad, occurred. Leaving it behind forever.

And all that pain and emptiness was only heightened as you stood across from your betrothed. All those present were dressed in their finest, watching on as ribbons were wrapped around your entwined hands. The ceremony continued on even as you were stuck within your own mind, a battle of emotions raging within.

You came back to the present as Thor’s face moved closer to yours, you subtly shifted so that his lips were just shy of your mouth, distracted by the cheering crowds, you missed the dark look that passed over his face.

//You do not miss it the second time//
You are sitting upon your new bed watching as Thor pours himself a mug of ale, knocking it back before pouring another. You pluck at the lacy nightgown that your handmaids placed you in after the feast. Giggling as they made you look pretty, they knew exactly why you were being dressed up in such a way.

The bedding ceremony.
You’ve heard of his conquests, all the women he has bedded. Perhaps he could go see one of them and leave you to a peaceful nights rest.

He finished the pitcher of ale and makes his way towards you, a look in his eyes you have seen in many men (normally they are looking at Edrice). Perhaps not.

“I have been waiting a long time for this,” Thor slurs, giving you pause “over a hundred years, since the night we first met.”

That cannot be true, he was entranced by your sister. Maybe all that ale has impaired his logic as well as his speech, he may think that he married Edrice and that is who sits before him.

“Feisty little y/n,” oh how you are sick of being wrong this night “a simple princess who can’t even do that right, yet has the nerve to talk down to a KING!”

You fold your hands in your lap, as you had seen your mothers and sister do may times before “you are not yet a king.”

That dark look is back into his eyes, a snarl on his lips “you dare spurn me in front of all of Asgard, and now you question me in my own chambers!” you try and slip past him but he turns and shoves you into one of his bedposts, a bruising grip on your exposed shoulders.

“Let me go,” you try and sound forceful, even though deep down you are overcome with fear.

“You do not get to tell me what to do you insolent little girl!” he snaps “I have been waiting a long time for this. It’s about time I teach you a lesson in respect!” with those words he tears your nightgown right off your body and throws you across the spacious mattress. “You will learn your place, even if it takes me years to teach you.”