13Disclaimer: So apparently it's illegal for me to own Tom Hiddleston and his cheekbones. I'm currently looking for loopholes.
"Brother, stop pacing. You are making me nervous just watching you," Thor said, watching Loki pace around his room.
"You wouldn't understand," said Loki, waving a hand in his brother's direction.
"She is fine. I believe Sif, our mother, and twenty servants can take care of her for a day."
"You believe?" asked Loki, rounding on Thor. "Have you met her?"
"She is preparing for this evening, as you well should be," Thor told his brother. "Please calm down and have faith."
Loki stopped pacing, but couldn't stop worrying. Even if Anastasia was safe (which, he reasoned, isn't actually impossible), that didn't change the fact that, in just a few short hours, he was to be married to her.
He had never been one to be overcome with nerves. That day on Midgard when he went to her and told her that he had missed her had been bad enough, but today he could barely breathe.
"How do you feel?" Thor asked.
"How do you think?" Loki retorted. "It's completely unreasonable, but I can't even breathe for the nerves."
Thor chuckled. "I think you should relax, Brother. I'm certain the ceremony is not as horrible as you make it out to be."
"It's not the ceremony I'm worried about," muttered Loki.
While Loki was having his mental breakdown, Anastasia was all but tied down to a chair while random people she didn't even know played Barbie doll with her. Her hair was being tugged and pulled, her face was being made up (using natural stuff instead of the chemicals she was used to), and her gown was hanging in the corner, just waiting for her to be shoved into it.
Her heart was hammering in her chest. It was one thing to be next to Loki, laughing and poking fun at him. It was another thing entirely to know that the next time she saw him, they would be vowing to spend the rest of their lives together.
Her mind was a crazy mixture of a million emotions. She was nervous, excited, a little bit scared, and slightly impatient. But mostly, at this moment, she was bored. She had never been a sit-down person, and yet here she was sitting stock-still, waiting for these strangers to finish whatever it was they were doing. She wanted to be up and moving, doing things for herself. Not sitting here while others did it for her.
"How are you feeling?" asked Sif, noticing Anastasia's fidgeting.
"Nervous," she replied. "And excited."
"But you look beautiful," said Frigga, coming to stand in front of Anastasia. Anastasia smiled a small smile.
She began to worry, as she saw the queen's clear excitement. What if I mess up? Or if I fall on my face? What am I talking about—if? Of course I'll fall on my face. That gown's floor-length. I'm so screwed. She took a deep breath. Calm down. You'll do fine.
"There's nothing to worry about," said Frigga, correctly reading the look on Anastasia's face.
Loki wasn't doing much better. He was still worrying about...well, everything. Mostly Anastasia. Had Frigga and Sif been successful in keeping her from serious injury? Would she actually make it down the aisle without falling? There were a lot of things that could go wrong, simply because Anastasia was a graceless imbecile. Loki smiled. No matter what, she was his graceless imbecile. And in three hours, it would be official.
He sat down in a chair and placed his head in his hands. If someone had told him eighteen months ago that his life would be changed by a mortal—someone like a child to him—he would have laughed in their face. After all, what tiny, insignificant mortal could have such an impact of a god like himself?
But she had. He remembered that day on Midgard, watching her run about, excited to return to Asgard with him. He had been standing in the doorway to her room (which was smaller than his bed), smiling at the sight of her gathering things with one arm. He knew then, in that moment, that he wanted nothing more than to marry her.
When they had returned to Asgard, they told Frigga, Odin, and Thor that they wished to be wed as soon as possible. Frigga, however, would have none of it. A prince of Asgard—even if not the next in line for the throne—should have a big wedding ceremony, with plenty of planning and a massive feast afterward.
Loki supposed that he wouldn't be so nervous had they gotten their way. The whole of Asgard would be there, watching the youngest Odinson get married. Not to mention he had been given time to think rather than act impulsively, as he had before.
He smiled. He remembered something Anastasia had said to him a few months ago—one of her rare insightful moments. There's no point in worrying. Whatever is going to happen will happen, whether you worry or not. Loki took a deep breath and stood. It was time for him to get prepared. He laughed at the thought of Anastasia's reaction should he forget his helmet.
Anastasia wasn't quite sure why this felt so strange. She supposed it had something to do with the fact that this wasn't what she had in mind when she thought of her wedding. She had always thought that her father would be there to give her away, and she'd be dressed in white. Not dressed in a beautiful green gown, walking down alone to meet an alien with the powers of a god wearing a funny hat.
The doors opened, and the music started. Anastasia's palms started sweating. She didn't think think she could it without tripping. She was only ever graceful when she was dancing.
That's it! Anastasia closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and reopened her eyes as she began taking slow dancer steps. Just like that, the stage fright and the fear of messing up vanished. She could do this. She just needed to dance.
Meanwhile, up at the front of the room, Loki was trying not to turn around and look. He wanted to do this right, since it was the only chance he'd get. Thor, however, had no reason not to turn and look at Anastasia.
"She looks beautiful," he whispered. "Just wait until you see her."
After the ceremony, I'm going to kill him, Loki decided. He waited tensely for some sign that Anastasia had tripped and ended up sprawled out on the floor, but it never came. She made it all the way up to him without incident. He looked over at her. And forgot how to breathe.
Thor had been right. She was beautiful. Her gown was the same shade of green as his cape, and trimmed in gold. Her pale hair framed her face, and she looked every bit the radiant bride she was.
Seeing her here, standing by him, Loki couldn't remember why he had been worried or nervous at all. All he felt now was a strong sense of ecstasy. He had spent the whole day worrying over her safety and wellbeing, but it was for nothing. She was here, and they would spend the rest of their lives together.
He found it difficult to keep his composure when his Odin (who was officiating) pulled out the large, multi-colored ribbon for the handfasting. He looked over sideways at Anastasia, who appeared to be using all of her self-control not to shout 'pretty'.
Loki took Anastasia's right hand in his own, trying to listen as Odin explained the symbolism. It wasn't working very well. He didn't think Anastasia had ever stayed so still in her life (at least not in time he had known her), but she was standing straight, not even twitching as Odin wrapped the ribbon around their hands.
When it was over, and the ribbon completely binding them together, Loki bent and gently kissed his new wife.
This was a very good day.
Anastasia was grinning ear to ear. If her friends and family back home had known she had married someone she had only known for fifteen months (and twelve of them had been planning), they'd think she was insane. And maybe she was, but she didn't care. She couldn't be happier than she was right now, sitting next to her husband at their wedding feast.
"So, Brother," said Thor from Loki's other side, "how's it feel now that you've taken an arrow to the knee?"
The warriors three laughed at Loki's expense. Sif, meanwhile, facepalmed.
"That was in Skyrim!" said Anastasia. "And she just did a Loki!"
"A what?" asked Fandral. Loki just facepalmed. She pointed at him.
"That thing!"
Everyone at the table 'did a Loki', as Anastasia had put it.
Anastasia went to take a sip of her mead when Loki reached over and grabbed it out of her hand.
"Nope," he said, placing it on his other side.
"Oh, good. More mead," said Thor, taking up the tankard that had previously been Anastasia's.
"Why not?" asked Anastasia, crossing her arm and leaning back into her chair.
"Because the last time I allowed you to get drunk, you were in the infirmary with three broken bones, five severe gashes in varying places, and covered in bruises."
"What did she do?" asked Sif.
"She fell out of tree."
Everybody laughed at Anastasia's expense, while she just stuck her tongue out at all of them. Loki leaned over and pressed a kiss to her temple.
"I have something better planned for tonight than chasing you around Asgard," he whispered in her ear. "And I'm very excited about it."
Anastasia ducked her head to hide the light blush that spread across her face.
Loki's 'something better' was, in fact, a very exciting plan.
They lay together, curled against each other in the center of the bed.
"You were right. This was better than running around Asgard," said Anastasia.
"As I said it would be," he whispered. "I love you, Anastasia."
She smiled. "I love you, too."
AN: That's all, folks!
Remember, I'm writing a whole bunch of oneshots with -missing scenes from this story as well as Love Counts to Ten (go read it, it's amazing). I'll be taking suggestions until I die.
Reviews get a piece of gay bacon.