"You are the most beautiful thing my eyes ever beheld," Loki says from the doorway, arms crossed across his chest, a tight smile.

Her blush sends a wave of pleasure through him, and her small frame steps down from the pedestal in front of the mirror. There's a reason she's in a silk white gown. Why she's got makeup on. Why her hair was pressed and ironed and curled and attacked with a fine tooth comb for this occasion.

And then there's another reason entirely.

It's the same reason she insisted that the stone of her necklace be emerald green instead of a large diamond.

And he'd picked it out for her.

"You jest, my Prince," she curtsies, and dismisses her maids that were to help her get dressed. They bow to the dark haired man quickly, and leave without so much as a word.

As soon as they're gone and the large doors have closed, he's closed the distance between them. The tight dress showed off all those curves he knew she had. Her hair flowed down in dark ringlets past her shoulders, a silver band around her head.

"You are the most beautiful thing my eyes ever beheld," he reiterates, staring deep into her bright blue eyes. They question him. Taunt him. Challenge him.

He grips her around the waist, feels the tautness of the dress under his fingertips, and kisses her. Releasing the tension in her muscles completely from the stress of the situation she'd been placed in. Then she realizes this will be the last kiss they shall ever share.

"I don't think it's proper for a woman to kiss another man before her wedding," she forces the smile onto her face, demands her tears stay out of her eyes.

A large smile lights up his face, like she's never seen before. His eyes are flaming green, an insane happiness lurking behind those irises.

"I love you," he says simply, hand on her cheek. Tears are wet in his eyes, and she isn't sure if he's acting on her behalf, or what.

A lone tear breaks her wall of concentration as it glides down her cheek, and it only makes his grin wider.

"Do not cry, my love," he quietly laughs aloud, wiping away the droplet of water with his thumb, "You'll ruin your makeup."

His mood of joy is contagious, despite the impending doom of the morning, and she laughs as more tears fall. His hand falls from her cheek and she grasps both in her hands, "It's waterproof. They expect me to cry on my wedding day."

"With a man like Theoric, anyone in her right mind would cry," he giggles, making Sigyn wonder if he'd been drinking.

"Why are you so happy?" She smiles, briefly touching his cheek and underneath his shining eyes.

He leans into the palm, closing his eyes at the warm touch, "Because I'm in love."

"Is it your goal to be as silly as possible?" Smirking, she runs the hand through his hair.

"You are the one who is going to walk down that aisle today," he says, "Do not look for me in the crowd."

She hadn't expected him to be there. That seemed like too much of a burden, and she didn't want him to watch this union. It would be torture.

Sniffing, he reopens his eyes and leans down to give her one last, chaste kiss.

"I love you," Sigyn whispers when he releases her and he gives her a much smaller smile.

There's a knock on the door and they both jump backward from each other and Loki quickly wipes his eyes before the intruder steps in.

"Sigyn!" Thor's boisterous voice booms, crossing the room quickly and embracing his friend in a tight hug.

"Hello Thor," she smiles politely and returns the hug that's crushing her.

Loki sees her distress, "Thor, you're suffocating her."

"Am I?" He genuinely asks, trying to look down at her, "I'm sorry Lady Sigyn."

Thor releases her, and she gulps in a large breath of air, smiling, "Quite alright Thor."

"Your groom is hidden away in his room," Thor smiles, "and won't allow anyone entry. I believe he's nervous."

Loki's got one arm crossed across his chest, the other propped up by the elbow, hand over his mouth. He's trying not to laugh.

"What is so funny, brother?"

Tears are shining in the younger prince's eyes as he laughs silently. His voice cracks when he tries to explain himself. But he never manages to get through the whole sentence, and instead holds out his arms for a final hug from Sigyn.

She feels him shaking with laughter in her arms, and that, it seems, is contagious as well. She giggles in his ear quietly, so Thor doesn't hear, "What have you done, naughty boy?"

Loki just shakes his head, releasing her and grinning like a loon. After planting a short, soft kiss on her forehead he whispers, "Later, love." Scrunching his nose, he tries to stop the laughing fit, to no avail. Sigyn can't help but stare into his flaming green eyes and try to figure out what he's done to Theoric.

"I'm off," Loki smiles, waving his hand in the air as he reaches the door, "Try not to miss me too much."

"No problem," Sigyn snorts, waiting until he was completely out the door before looking back to Thor.

With Loki gone, Thor didn't have much to say. It became awkwardly evident.

"Uh…"

"Well," Sigyn starts, going back to the mirror, "I need to finish getting ready. But thank you, my Prince, for wishing me well."

He had it all planned out. Theoric had been pushed out of the way… seamlessly. It would take days to find him in the forests outside of the Main City. Despite all the things that Loki had been called, completely heartless wasn't one of the true ones.

Leaving Theoric wandering through the forest wasn't going to kill the man, he was a warrior; he'd find food on his own. Now Loki was free to pursue whomever he wished…

Pausing at his mirror, he adjusted the band on his best suit of armor. It was sleek, and almost entirely leather, except for those few pieces of metal that decided to appear. He slicked back his hair once more, making sure that everything was in place as it should be. If this wedding were actually supposed to occur between Sigyn and him, he would've been forced into a white gaudy thing that no prince before him had probably volunteered to wear.

However, since he was going to be disguised for the entire ceremony, there no real reason he couldn't wear what he wished. My goodness, it was his wedding. Why let others tell you how it must be?

Her stomach dropped out from under her, a uncomfortable lump formed in her throat, her eyes became full with unshed, defiant tears, her pale white fingers frozen like ice, and her heart died when she saw the tall, bulky figure standing at the end of the aisle.

She shouldn't be made to continue through with this. Even the humans on Midgard had more of a choice than she, with the whole, "I object" thing. Not here. Not now, not ever. She was betrothed to Theoric, and so no other may replace him. There were no divorces. No annulments. No breaking of engagements.

No hope.

Her knees threaten to give way as she takes the first step down the long white row. Sigyn sees her mother in the crowd, tears pouring down her smiling face. Her sisters watch in awe, even though she is the youngest and the last to be married. Iwaldi, her father, is at her side, clasping her right hand. Sigyn wonders fleetingly if he notices how cold she's become.

Who's idea was it, she wants to scream aloud, to force me to marry someone I can never hope to love?

She's expected to stare at him the entire way to the alter, but she refuses. Keeping her eyes on the white path that is leading to her doom, Sigyn defies what is expected. She will not look at him. Not until forced.

Her thoughts turn to Loki.

What is he doing at this very moment? Will he attempt to disappear again like he had when he first heard of my impending nuptials? How soon can I see him after this is all said and done?

And the biggest question of all: What will I do when I see him?

After what seems like an eternity, her father kisses her hand, and sets her to climbing up the few stairs to where Theoric and King Odin wait. Her fiancé holds out his hand for her to take, and with trembling fingers she gives it. A tight, reassuring squeeze makes her glance up at his face quickly, finding that he's already looking forward at Odin.

The point comes to where they must face each other, and try as she might, Sigyn has to look at him now. Although she begins to imagine a completely different sight than the one she's given. First that head of blond hair changes to a slicked back, jet black style. Those blue eyes change their color to a mischievous bright green. His cheekbones are higher. His jaw line is much more defined. His lips are another matter entirely, and Sigyn forces herself to stop on that one, for fear of losing herself to the fantasy.

Because he's not here.

He's not the one promising to be hers forever. He's not the one devoting his love.

Her heart shatters further, and with great difficultly she keeps a smile on her face. The tears are pouring now, and everyone watching assumes that it's out of happiness. They think that she's so overwhelmed with her love for him that it's impossible to hold it in.

They don't know anything.

Her Loki is gone. She can't have him. That realization dawns more forcefully than it had a few weeks ago alone with Loki. Her voice trembles and shakes with every promise and vow she gives. Her bottom lip quivers when Odin announces that they are now joined forever, and that Theoric may kiss the bride.

He's gentle. And kind. Soft.

Nothing like any other Theoric kiss she'd ever received.

Long arms wrap around her waist, slender fingers pressing into her back. That smell overwhelms her senses, making her suck in a sharp breath. She feels a smile grace his lips as he kisses her, his nose tickling her eyelashes. And it's all too familiar, so Sigyn kisses back as forcefully as she dares in front of Asgard.

She's not so involved that she doesn't hear the cumulative gasp from the spectators. Not surprised at her mother's scream. Unaffected by Odin's yell of his younger son's name.

Her heart explodes, her mind whizzes a mile a second, coming to terms of what had happened.

Loki. Loki. Loki. How she loved that name.

Sigyn just continues kissing him, hugging him close, and denying anyone his audience but herself. When really, this may not have been the wisest thing to do.

Loki is the one to break her kiss, knowing above anyone else that she wouldn't stop, "Father, I-"

"What have you done?" His father booms, his face one of outrage. He's asked a question, but doesn't allow the younger man to answer, instead yelling that he go to the throne room at once. Loki nods, and makes a move to leave, but Sigyn grasps his hand and begins the journey with him.

"I love you," she whispers, just loud enough for him to hear. The smile that graces his face tells her everything.

Neither of them care what Odin has to say on the matter, because they both have what they wanted. And nothing could ever change that.

"And I love you," he whispers back, wrapping an arm around her waist and leading her up the aisle into the palace.

Welp... that's it. I know it took a lot longer to get this second part, but you know, school, vacation, my Tom Hiddleston story that has become much, much bigger than I had anticipated... :D

Ehehehehe, anyways, I hope you enjoyed! Please leave a review and tell me how I did!