Chapter Text
As a princess, Syn was, ironically, used to being ordered around. There were, after all, three people in the royal family who outranked her, as well as an entire council and numerous advisors and secretaries. Her whole life was full of meeting this lord or lady, attending this meeting, celebrating this grand opening, and dressing for this ball. Despite what the fairy tales had told her, princesshood was a rather busy job.
So it wasn't surprising or suspicious to learn that she'd be going on a diplomatic mission to Asgard with her brother and mother. It was hardly her first trip to Asgard, though she was quick to learn it would be her longest.
"Six weeks?" she asked her mother over dinner that evening. "That's the whole season. We'll miss Midsummer."
"There will be other Midsummers," her mother said. "And Asgard has its own celebration you can attend."
"But why such a long trip? I don't recall ever having such a long stay in another realm."
Her mother turned and looked at the king. "Yes, Hoenir, dear. Why are we going to stay so long?"
He cleared his throat once, twice, then his face started to flush in a way that certainly meant he was trying to lie. Immediately, Syn was on high alert. Across from her, Boe had put his spoon down and was watching their father with amused interest. Hoenir the Just had lived with the truth curse twice as long as they had and certainly had his fair share of loop holes and work arounds for it. He would never had made it so far as a king and realm ruler without them. But he lost all his guile when it came to lying to family. Not least of all because she and Boe could tell in an instant when he was doing it.
"Odin and I have a long standing agreement that is nearing its fruition," Father finally managed. "It's your job to see it goes smoothly. That might take some time."
It was a perfectly reasonable answer, if not for the fact he was still beet-red and choosing his words very carefully. "What' the agreement?" she asked flatly.
Father gave Mama an accusatory look, mouth pressed into a thin line. Syn knew from experience that whatever the truth was felt like it was pushing against said lips to get out.
"Oh, for spirits' sake, out with it," Boe said after a tense moment. "The anticipation is palpable."
"A betrothal agreement," her father said in a rush.
Syn's scalp prickled and she tasted something sour that had nothing to do with the fine fish stew she'd been eating. "Betrothal."
"Made when Odin 'united' the realms," her mother said, refilling Hoenir's water glass as if rewarding him for being out with it. "Some submitted willingly, others under the sword. And some, like your father, bargained."
"The realms united before I was born," Syn said. "How could I have been part of any betrothal agreement."
"Now, sister," Boe drawled. "Don't presume. Perhaps I'm to marry the heir apparent and you're there to chaperone."
Father snorted. "And alienate my Captain of the Guard? I think not. He'd start a war just on principle."
Boe grinned, possibly at the image of Colm raising an army for him, but likely because Father's casual acceptance of his relationship still delighted him.
"Thor was a child," Mama said, answering Syn's question. "And Frigga was likely pregnant with the younger son at the time. We were young and knew having more children was likely. It was a gamble, but Odin wanted and end to his campaigning, so he was willing to take it. A few years later you came along."
"And now it's time for the gamble to pay off?" Syn was very proud of how steady her voice was considering she really wanted to find a pillow to scream into and then set on fire.
"Odin is old," Father said. "He's looking to give the throne to Thor and enjoy his remaining years with Frigga. He thinks it best if Thor was settled with a wife when he did so. I agree with him. Marriage certainly did him well. And it was an arranged one," he added pointedly.
"Such things were common place four thousand years ago," she retorted. "And how have we gone my entire life with this never being mentioned?"
Her father sipped his water, a muscle in his jaw flexing. Her mother answered for him, "We hoped Odin would never come to collect."
"Oh for-" She threw up her hands and let them slam on the table, clattering her place setting. "You bargained away my entire life years before I was born and you hope the All-Father would just forget?"
"Don't be dramatic," her father snapped. "Queen of all the realms is hardly a life of torment."
"I'd agree with you if I were choosing to live it. But I've spend my life thinking I'd get to live one way and now you've informed me I have, what? Six weeks to adjust to a new one?" He opened his mouth to reply but she cut him off. "And don't tell me to calm down. You knew I'd be upset or you wouldn't have tried to hide this from me. Were you going to send me to Asgard completely blind? Or get it out in a rush just before the Bifrost dropped?"
It was suddenly hard to breathe, as if the walls were closing in. She wanted to scream. She was afraid she was about to cry. So she flattened her palms on the table, shoved herself to her feet and left the room. No one called out after her, though she'd half expected her father to tell her she wasn't excused.
The walk to her room passed in a blur. There, at least, she was able to get her pillow screaming done with. It helped a bit. She seriously considered breaking some things, maybe even dramatically ripping up a few of the dresses she'd planned to bring to Asgard. But she was, regrettably, a pragmatic person at heart and knew it would only cause someone else more work.
She was sitting on her bed, glowering into the middle distance, when there came a knock at her door and her brother poked his head in. "Oh good," he said, opening the door fully to come in, Colm at his heels. "I half expected to find you gone, having rappelled out your window by your bedsheets."
"I'd never stage an escape without warning Colm," Syn informed him. "Else on of the night guards shoot me from the tower."
Colm grunted in approval, taking a seat by her cold fireplace. Boe having no such sense of decorum, flopped next to her on the bed. "I've updated him on your predicament," her brother told her. "He probably would have let you go."
"The watch changes over half an hour before sunrise," Colm offered. "I won't even punish whichever one you sneak by."
Syn smiled thinly. "I'll keep it in mind." She looked over at Boe. "I'm not being unreasonable, am I? This is an awful situation."
He reached over and patted her hip affectionately. "As someone who lived most of his formative years terrified one of our parents was going to produce some Lord's daughter and proclaim I had to marry her, I sympathize entirely. This isn't the Dark Ages, people should pick their own spouses." He tucked his hand back under his head. "If it gives you any comfort, Thor's not a bad sort."
She supposed he'd know better than her. She knew Thor in the vague, polite way one knew the children of their parent's friends. Asgard tended to be rather rigid in their gender roles, so on previous state visits she'd been ensconced in a parlor with her mother and Frigga while the men went off and did whatever it was they did. Even when they were children, while Boe would happily include her in his war games, Thor - and his brother - had brushed her off as a girl and she'd ended up left alone.
It seemed wrong to blame a grown man for his actions as a child, but the dismissal still stung, just a little.
"Do you think we'd suit?" she asked Boe. "Thor and I. Do you think we could be married and be happy?" If she could have some sort of hope for the future, she could get through this.
Propping up on his elbows, he squinted at her a moment, then sighed. "He's a very nice fellow. But no, I think you'd drive each other mad the first year."
Sighing, Syn flopped down next to him. "About that escape route."
"There's another option," Colm offered.
"Ritual suicide?"
"You rival Boe in your melodrama sometimes, you know that?"
Boe pointed at him theatrically. "You take that back, you wretch!"
Colm sighed deeply. "As I was saying. You could simply go to Asgard and see if Thor wants to marry you."
Syn propped herself up on her elbows to look at him. "Are you implying I'm unmarriable?"
Colm ignored her as he had Boe, with a deep sigh. "I mean, a man Thor's age might have something to say about marrying a woman he probably couldn't pick out of a crowd, just because his Papa says so."
Now Boe sat up. "When ones 'Papa' is Odin the All-Father, one might not get much of a vote."
"True enough. But Thor's never stuck me as weak willed. Nor a man who'd force a woman who weren't willing. Could be he's playing along. Could be he's as pissed as you and will be happy to know you're uninterested. All I'm saying is, you're planning a war and you haven't figured out who your allies are yet."
Boe leaned over to whisper, "He's adorable when he uses war metaphors, isn't he?"
"All politics is war, prince," Colm told him, the title sounding like a private pet name when he said it. "You haven't noticed because you keep winning."
Syn arched a brow at him, then at her brother. "He's right, you know. The king never notices the chess game until the enemy closes in. Us pawns on the other hand. . ."
"He's right about you and melodrama, you know."
"Well, I learned from the best." She kissed his cheek and pushed him back down. "You'll be with me, right? In Asgard?"
"Watching your back, as always, little sister," he confirmed, saluting her. "Along with my favorite man-at-arms."
She looked swiftly back at Colm. "You're coming?"
He shrugged easily. "Three quarters of the royal family is going, seems right I should be there are guard."
Asgard was hardly enemy territory, her current predicament notwithstanding. "You hate riding the Bifrost."
"Hate worrying about you idiots more."
That was worth jumping off the bed and hugging him. He actually hugged her back, a novelty, and bussed a kiss to her cheek. "You're no pawn, pet. You're the bishop, coming from the side when least expected. Don't ever forget it."
"Thank you," she aid softly.
He patted her back and she straightened. "We'll sort it out, Syn," he told her. "You have my word."
They left for Asgard two days later. She made a point of sulking a bit in front of her father. Just because she felt slightly better with Boe and Colm at her side didn't mean she'd forgiven him for getting her into this mess.
She did kiss him goodbye when it was time to call the Bifrost. He held her tightly when she did so, lifting off her feet a little like she was still a little girl. "Try to have fun," he said when he set her down.
Trips to Asgard were almost never what one might call "fun" but it seemed needlessly cruel to tell him that. She couldn't lie and promise she would have fun, because she was fairly set on the idea this was going to be the absolute opposite of fun, so she went with, "I'm looking forward to seeing their summer celebrations." It was true, and apparently optimistic enough to satisfy him. He gave her one last squeeze before she stepped back to join the others.
Her mother glanced heavenward. "Heimdal? If you please." Father lifted a hand in farewell just as the rainbow light of the Bifrost enveloped them.
The were greeted at the gate by Heimdal, the Gatekeeper, and a collection of servants who would deal with their luggage.
Her mother greeted Heimdal warmly. The enormous Asgardian had always been cordial, even kind when they visited, but there was something about him Syn found very intimidating. Perhaps it was because he was rumored to be able to see everyone, wherever they were. She imagined she wasn't interesting enough to spy on, but the fact someone could. . .
Shaking off such thoughts, she followed her mother out of the gate house and down the long bridge that led to Asgard proper. It was as gleaming and gold as it had always been. Syn had grown up in a palace, but Alfheim favored won and other natural materials in its building and decorating. Her rooms at home might be opulent, but the walls were panel oak and the floors covered in soft carpet and plush furniture. Asgard always felt cold and unwelcoming, full of gleaming marble and furniture designed for looking at, not sitting on.
The glimpses she'd gotten of the rest of the city weren't like that. The millers and dressmakers didn't seem to surround themselves in cold stone and metal. She assumed the palace had been built by some grandstanding ancestor of Odin's and the opulence had simply been handed down generation to generation.
Frigga was from Vanaheim, which was, if possibly, even more agrarian than Alfheim. Syn would put good money on the queen's private quarters being warm and homey. She supposed if she did marry Thor she'd have to find some spot of her own to decorate to her own tastes.
Ugh, what a miserable thought. To live out the rest of her life wearing a mask whenever she was out in public, only herself when ensconced in her sanctuary. Her parents and the court might occasionally be flummoxed by her and Boe, but they had never asked her to be anything other than what she was. Until now.
Focus, Syn. She had only just arrived and she was planning her funeral. Colm was right. Don't lose the war before you know who you're really fighting.
They stopped at the entrance to Asgard's enormous throne room, her mother in the front, Syn and Boe at either side and just behind, Colm at the back. She'd done this a dozen times, waiting to be announced for some event or visit. Half the time, the princes weren't even there. Today, she was quite certain they would be.
Boe cast a glance over at her. "Ready for war?" he mouthed.
Behind her mother's back she straightened her shoulders and saluted him, making him grin. Behind her, she head Colm sigh and then the massive doors opened.
*
"Admit it," Loki said, voice pitched low so only his brother could hear him. "You're expecting her to be frail and dumb as a post. Though, it's possible you won't mind that later"
"I'm not expecting anything," Thor hissed back, keeping his eyes on the doors. "I'm sure she's a perfectly fine woman."
"I've heard Alfans have webbed toes."
"She'll be an excellent swimmer, then."
"I'm just saying, there's a window right there. Within jumping out to escape range."
"All the better to throw you out."
"Loki-"
On the other side of the throne, their mother cleared her throat and pinned them with one of her best Looks. The two of them immediately straightened up, as if they were still children holing she wouldn't notice frogs in their pockets.
The grand doors opened and an einherjar at the end announced, "Her Majesty Aoife the Gentle, queen of Alfheim. Prince Boe the Just of Alfheim. Princess Syn the Truthful of Alfheim. Captain of Alfheim's Royal Guard."
The whole court knew the princess was to be Thor's intended - it was the worst kept secret in Asgard at the moment - so nearly everyone's attention turned to the group making their way down the aisle. Thor and Loki were stationed far enough to the side that the crowd blocked their view until the Alfans were two thirds of the way to the throne's dais.
The queen come into view first, tall and stately, in a dark grey gown that dragged on the floor slightly. Aoife was older than their mother, hair gone mostly white, in that ashy way blondes tended to. Her face was more weathered, as well, but she smiled when she came close, greeting Frigga and Odin, and Loki could see the beauty she'd likely been.
The prince Loki knew, he was cut from the same cloth as Thor. Blond, handsome, easy going. His hair was curly and seemed to reject all attempts at a style, sitting in a stubborn mop. His navy tunic and leggings were well tailored, if a little dull compared to Asgardian fashion. Loki knew the man walking at the back of the group was the Captain of the guard, and, if gossip was to be believed, the prince's long-time lover. Loki wondered if the sudden urge to marry of the princess had anything to do with that relationship making producing an heir rather complicated. Odin would likely find the idea of his grandchildren ruling several realms appealing.
The princess was on the other side of her mother from them and he could only get glimpses of her until they came even with the steps of the dais. Lokie's mental image of the process of Alfheim was a quiet, mousy haired girl still out growing her awkward youth. She had always stayed in the parlors or gardens with the queens, so his interactions with her had been limited. She was younger than bot him and Thor, and the only girl of age in the realms, so it had likely always been inevitable she would marry one of them. It had just never occurred to him until Gather had made his announcement.
She was. . . not what he remembered. Any awkwardness she might have had in her youth was gone, replaced by an easy elegance as she stood before the throne. Her hair - which his memory had faded to a nondescript brown - was as curly as her brother's, pulled away from her face with jeweled combs to fall down her back in a waterfall of sandy gold. Her gown was a stormy blue somewhere between he mother and brother's outfits and looked soft and luxurious.
As the queen and Odin exchanged, the princess's gaze never faltered, studying Odin as a general might survey a battle map. From this distance, Loki couldn't even make out the color of her eyes, but everything in her stance and expression told him she was neither stupid or frail.
When Odin finally addressed her directly, she gave him the barest of curtseys, a dip of her head and knees that left her spine straight as steel. "All-Father. Thank you for your hospitality. I look forward to using our stay to learn more about your realm." She had the clipped, short accent of Alfheim and her mouth twisted oddly at the end of her speech. There was no mention of Thor or their expected engagement, but Loki doubted very much she didn't know about it. Her words had been carefully chosen, giving little away. It was well know the Alfan royal family could not lie, even to smooth over feelings, but it was equally known they were masters at loopholes and double speak.
Loki had always admire that about them.
"You all remember my sons, I'm sure."
That was their cue. He and Thor stepped forward obediently and sketched matching bows to the family. The women followed suit, but Boe just waved. "Hey Thor."
Thor grinned. "Boe. Up for a hunt in the morning."
"Always."
Loki hated hunting. And waking up at dawn. But it might be worth tagging along to see what information they could get out of Boe. He'd give Thor credit for knowing enough battle strategy to know when reconnaissance was necessary.
"The guard will show you to your rooms," Odin said. "We'll have a feast this evening to welcome you properly."
"Gods forbid we miss a chance to feast," Loki muttered under his breath. Thor hid his snort of laughter in a snort.
The sound was enough to get the princess's attention, even as her family was turning to go. For a brief instant, Loki met her gaze, sharp and curious. Her mouth quirked into a crooked half smile before she looked away to follow her mother, and Loki had the odd, uncomfortable feeling she'd taken his full measure in that brief moment and now knew all his secrets.
This woman was fascinating.
There were other court matters their father needed to see to, but they didn't need to stick around for them. He slipped out the side door with Thor, the two of them removing their helmets in the same motion. "I'll join you on the hunt," Loki said. "So you don't have to interrogate him alone."
"Maybe I was just asking a friend out for an excursion."
"Then I shall degrade my opinion of you to 'not as smart as I thought' and go about my day."
Thor glowered a little, tucking his helmet beneath his arm. "Boe is a friend," he reiterated. "But he will also probably tell me a bit about his sister's opinions on this whole affair. Which will be useful."
"Ah! Excellent. You remain at 'worth ally' for the foreseeable future."
"Speaking of things that might be useful," he added, giving Loki a sidelong glance.
They stopped in the hallway outside one of the family parlors so Loki could look at him fully. "What unpleasant and possibly nefarious task are you about to ask me to do?" he asked with a sigh.
"Tonight after the feast there's to be dancing and socializing. Ask Syn to dance. Take your measure of her."
Loki almost gaped at him, open mouth and all, but managed to contain himself. "Why don't you do it? You are her future betrothed, after all."
"Whatever my strengths as a tactician, you are far better with words than I am and we both now it. You'll know more about her in four minutes of dance then I would in four days of talking."
"I feel like you're flattering me to get me to agree." Annoyingly, it might be working.
"Is it flattery when it's the truth?" Thor had his best innocent puppy dog expression on, which was equally annoying.
There was only one way to end this conversation. "Fine. One dance."
Grinning in triumph, Thor continued strolling down the hall. "I look forward to you putting those dance lessons to use, brother."