"Do you like it?"

                In the mirror the seamstress was studying me with watery blue eyes. She and Mary had been tearing up on and off all day. Me, I didn't have time to get misty and sentimental, I was trying to eat breakfast without throwing up, trying to apply a layer of gloss over my lips stick while my hands shook like crazy, stuffing tissues and deodorant in the little pear covered, white satin clutch that went with my wedding dress.

                Now there I was, standing on the platform in the middle of my massive bedroom, eyes glued to the mirror, unable to look away from the dress.

                My wedding dress.

                It was happening now, finally, after weeks and weeks of planning and anticipation. Weeks of servants scurrying around, decorating every inch of the palace in draping white silk and orange roses. I'd picked the roses myself, dark orange mixed with red, almost fire colored.

                Each time I had asked Loki what he thought about the food, or the music or any one of the hundreds of little details about the wedding, he'd said the same thing,

                "Whatever you want, love. As long as you show up, I'll be happy."

                I'd had fun planning this, there was no doubt about it. It was like every little girl's fairy tale wedding. Literally. There was no limit to what we could do, what I could have at my wedding if I wanted it.  It was just like Loki said, anything I wanted. I had to keep pinching myself. I was getting married in a palace, what was essentially a giant, sparkling ice sculpture itself. There would be endless roses, dripping wax candles, flower petals, the best red and white wine, chains of sparkling crystals draped from pillar to pillar....a wedding for royalty.

                It was taking forever to get used to this "Queen" thing. I was still uncomfortable with being waited on by servants, and the only one I'd allowed in my room to help me dress on a regular basis was Mary. I liked to think of her as more than a servant, and she had finally started opening up to me. We chatted about which frost soldier she had a crush on and I helped her pick out her outfits, even insisting that she borrow some of mine. It had made me incredibly happy to see the shy Mary glow with pride when one of the other servants asked disbelievingly, if the Queen had been lending her clothing.

                Mary and the seamstress were sniffing and wiping their eyes behind me, I could hear them whispering to one another about how nice I looked in the dress, and all I could do was stare.  It was pure white, almost blindingly so, the strapless bodice hugging my upper torso and flaring out at the hips, ending in a long train at the back. The top was studded all over with sparkling white crystals. Mary had done my hair up in curls that framed my face, and the crown I was wearing, the delicate edges reminding me of the paper snowflakes I used to make as a child, caught the light and shimmered whenever I turned my head. My veil floated behind me when I moved, gossamer thin and halfway down my back.

                It hit me again, not for the first time that day. This was it, I was about to walk down the aisle in front of hundreds and hundreds of people. My stomach was full of butterflies and I had to curl my freshly manicured hands into fists to keep them from shaking.

                Okay, calm down. I can do this. It's no big deal.

                It couldn't be any more intimidating than the coronation ceremony, could it? That was much more formal. At least, that's what I would keep telling myself.

                Finally I took a deep breath and answered the seamstress, "I love it. It's amazing."

                "Are you ready, miss?" Mary's eyes were wide, "ten minutes."

                Ten minutes, oh my gosh, how could I be ready in ten minutes? Wasn't there still a million things that needed doing?

                Mary came closer, standing beside me, she placed one gentle hand on my arm, "Don't be nervous. You look lovely. Everything is all taken care of, now all you have to do is walk down the aisle to him. Keep your eye on the prince."

                Right, keep my eye on Loki. Everything else doesn't matter.

                The thought of Loki, of walking towards him in the dress, of seeing him in a tux, waiting for me at the end of the aisle, sent warmth flowing through me, loosening up the knot of tension that had been forming in my chest.

                I jumped when a soft knock on the door sounded from across the room.

                "It's time," Mary's eyes were shining, "come, let's go, we'll get your train."

                She helped me turn around on the platform I was standing on, dismounting carefully. Again, I had insisted on flat shoes, the pink ballet flats with little black pearls being the only splash of colour in my outfit.  So at least my footsteps were steady as I walked towards the big double doors, even though my knees felt like jelly and the butterflies were rampaging in my stomach again.

                Mary called out ahead of us, and the doors swung open, held by two servants in crisp white uniforms. I smiled at them both, happy to see the changes I'd implemented. The servants no longer lurked in the corridors, afraid to anger someone, and their clothing was no longer tattered. Now they were in neat white shirts and slacks, hair freshly done, smiles on their faces. It certainly helped lift your spirits when you were getting a decent pay wage.

                Behind me, Mary was holding up the ridiculously long train on my dress, and I stepped through the doors, entering the hall, taking a deep breath as I did so. We were having the actual ceremony in the great hall. The tables had been cleared away, replaced with white wrapped chairs and a long aisle of silver carpet. This morning I'd peeked in, before some of the servants had chased me away. They'd wanted me to relax for the rest of the day, telling me I wasn't allowed to worry about the little details anymore.

                Now I would get to see it again, and soon, I would get to see Loki.

                The thought made me straighten my shoulders and walk more briskly in the direction of the great hall. I could do this, it wouldn't be so hard. Just concentrate on the reason I was doing all this, so I could marry Loki.

                Who cares if everything goes wrong? Who cares if the cake falls over and the candles melt the ice palace, as long as I manage to marry Loki, it will have been a successful wedding.

                Finally we were there, at the great double doors of the hall, and I took another deep breath, almost a gasp. There were two attendants at the doors, and when they saw me one of them gave a sharp rap with his knuckles on the left door, probably signalling someone on the other side that the band was to start playing.

                This is it.

                The thought of Loki waiting at the end of the aisle was the only thing keeping me from turning and bolting. The doors slowly creaked open, and a gentle crescendo of music started up on the other side. Mary grasped my hand and whispered,

                "You look amazing. Remember to breath.
               

                I gave her a grateful smile and turned to face forward, taking my first step onto the silver carpeted aisle. The gentle sound of strings and flutes gave me a rhythm to move to. I did as they had taught me, pacing slowly and gracefully forward, gripping the bouquet of lilies and orchids in front of me, remembering what the wedding planner had told me, "Your bouquet is not your sword, don't hold it like that."

                I think I was probably more comfortable gripping my sword. Glancing up at the crowd of people on either side of the aisle took my breath away. There were hundreds of them, the fire jotun on one side, all of Loki's family, swarthy and dark skinned. On the other side, all of mine, pale faces turned towards me, snow white hair done in curls and pinned with jewels. The tall white candles at the end of each row of chairs sent flickering firelight over their faces. Everyone was dressed their best, smiling and expectant, all standing there staring straight at me as I paced the aisle. Every single eye was on me, the bride.

                This was exactly like the coronation. I could do this, no problem.

                Just don't trip.

                The thought shook me up, and I remembered Mary's words. Concentrate on Loki.

                Finally I lifted my eyes enough to look down to the end of the aisle. There, through the white painted archway strung with tiny white fairy lights, stood my soon-to-be husband.

                Loki had his hands shoved into the pockets of his black slacks. His dark curls had been styled neatly and his tux was all black, which contrasted with the white tie he wore, and the white lily pinned to his jacket. His soft brown eyes were wide, locked on my face. When he gave me that confident, easy grin I felt my entire body lighten. If I pretended that it was just me and him, that there was nobody else in the room, then this would be easy.

                I tried not to speed up, knowing I was supposed to pace evenly down the carpet, but it was hard not to bolt down the aisle and fling myself into his arms. Finally, after one painfully slow step after another, after an eternity had passed by, I reached him. Finally I was right in front of him. He reached out and took my hand, and I turned and passed my bouquet off to Charlotte, who looked radiant in the dark red satin bridesmaid dress. I turned and gave the rest of my bridesmaids a quick grin, and Becca, Stacey, Margaret and Marian all gave me beaming smiles back.

                Then Loki was taking my other hand, wrapping his warm fingers around mine, and drawing me closer to him, and all I could see were his warm brown eyes and the huge smile he was giving me. The officiator was  rumbling on in the background, saying something about a royal union, but I wasn't paying any attention. Loki leaned forward and whispered in my ear,

                "You just about knocked me off my feet when I saw you. You look like some kind of snow goddess."

                My cheeks flushed hotly, and I couldn't stop the wide smile that spread over my face, "you look great too," I whispered back, and he gave me another grin.

                "Do you think so? They had to fight to get me into this penguin suit."

                I had to stifle a giggle, and Loki gripped my hands tighter, his breath hot next to my ear, tickling my neck, "I wish we could just be married and run away now. Do we have to do all this ceremony stuff?"

                My skin tingled at the thought, at how near he was, at the temperature of his skin on mine, but I gave him a stern look and pretended to face the officiator again, pretended I was interested in whatever the heck he was saying. I thought I heard Loki chuckle softly.

                When we exchanged rings my hands shook slightly, sliding the silver circle onto his finger. Loki's hands were firm and warm on mine as he slid the silver band over my ring finger and took my engagement ring from my right hand to my left.

                Finally it came, the words I was waiting for...

                "Megan, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, your partner in all things, as long as you both shall live?"

                To my surprise my voice was loud and firm, "I do."

                "And Loki, do you take Megan to be your lawfully wedded wife, in sickness and heath, until the end of your days?"

                Loki gripped my hands tightly, looking right into my eyes as he answered, "I do."

                A jolt of excitement shot through me at the next sentence,

                "You may now kiss the bride."

                Loki wasted no time. His hand was warm on the back of my neck, and his lips were hot on mine. He tasted like cinnamon, and I felt a little shock of delight in my stomach when he placed one hand on my waist and tipped me backwards. The crowd let out a cheer, and the band started up again, a blast of triumphant music. He pulled me up and said close to my ear,

                "Let's ditch this place."

                Then we were racing down the aisle, Loki still holding tightly to my hand, waving at the cheering crowd. A shower of silky rose petals were raining down from above us, landing in people's hair, decorating shoulders and carpeting the icy ground in splashes of red. I had one last look at the hall, at the draping silk and ropes of shimmering crystals, the tall silver vases of fire colored roses, and then we were out the door, and Loki and I were still running. The crown on my head had slipped sideways, sitting crooked in my hair.

                My voice was breathless, "Where are we going?"

                "Away from prying eyes," Loki sounded mischievous, and finally he turned one last corner and pulled me through the wide double doors that led outside into the courtyard. There were only two guards outside, and I was relieved that they both acted like they weren't seeing the newly married Queen and her husband running away like a couple of giggling school kids.

                The courtyard was still and white, silenced by a thick blanket of snow. There was only a faint shower of snow flakes falling around us now, and Loki's breath was rising in a silver cloud around him as he turned and spoke to me,

                "That wasn't enough."

                "What..."

                "The kiss."

                And there in the middle of the courtyard, hidden behind the rose bushes, surrounded by the gently falling snow, Loki pulled me close and kissed me again, and this time he didn't pull away. I ran my hands up into his hair, hooking my fingers in his curls, pulling him to me. Our bodies were so close, it was like any minute his heat would overcome my cold, and I would melt into him and become one.

                Finally we pulled apart, and he said breathlessly, "Megan?"

                "Mm?" I leaned into him, inhaling the scent of his cologne, feeling the snow fall across my cheeks, brushing my skin with feather touches. I fit into his arms so perfectly, "yes?"

                "We just got married," his voice was full of wonder, "we're married now."

                I shut my eyes and let the snow white silence fill up with those words. Let myself lean into him and absorb the enormity of that truth. We were married now, and it didn't matter what happened next, it didn't matter what challenges might be waiting around the bend, because I would never be alone again.  I would always have Loki.

END.