Maeve closed her eyes as Katla, her lady in waiting, pulled the corset tighter around her already-small figure.

"Oh my goodness, stop!" Maeve snapped, unable to hide her irritation any longer. "He already hates me! Why should I have to look good for him?"

"We're not doing this for him. Look good for your father," Katla advised, and the princess nodded sheepishly, agreeing. "Ready? I'd grab hold of something."

Maeve gripped onto the bedpost and nodded. Katla pulled the strings tighter than ever and finally tied it up. Maeve relaxed as much as she was able, which wasn't much. "Let's just put the dress on and get this over with."

Katla gathered the mass of fabric in her arms and slid it over her head. Maeve felt the fabric brush her toes and she looked in the mirror. The blue gown brought out her eyes quite nicely, and her hair was tied back in a matching ribbon, but something was missing. Maeve thought of the gardens and her heart leaped in her chest.

"You can go now. I'll finish up by myself." She was halfway to the French doors before she turned back, guilt written across her face. "Katla, I'm sorry if I've been cross this morning. It has nothing to do with you."

Katla smiled a bit as she curtseyed at the doors. "It's no problem, my lady. In your position, I'd be frazzled, too."

"Thank you." Maeve pushed open the doors and stepped out onto the balcony, inhaling the sweet scent of summer air as she surveyed the gardens from afar. Yes. Those would work.

She hurried down the steps, avoiding any contact with others at all costs until she finally found the door to the outdoors. Maeve wandered into the garden, her spirits lifting just being around all of the greenery. As she walked, plants perked up around her.

Eventually, Maeve found exactly what she was looking for. She bent down next to a bush of blue forget-me-nots and smiled as she stroked the petals. "Hi there," she whispered. Then, she plucked a few sprigs of the flower and waved her hands, instructing the plant to weave a small circle, which she formed around her tied-back hair in place of a ribbon. Another small blossom became a ring. Finally satisfied, Maeve smiled brightly. She loved incorporating magic into her appearance.

"I see you've found the gardens." Maeve straightened up and instantly sank into a curtsey, but Frigga only waved her off. "There's no need for that. In fact, I think we'd both get quite tired of it."

Maeve rose slowly, unsure how to react. "Good morning, Allmother."

"Good morning, my dear." Frigga motioned to the princess. "You look absolutely beautiful, child. Like a flower yourself. The forget-me-nots are an exquisite choice."

"Thank you. I was hoping they'd match."

Frigga smiled. "They bring out your eyes. You know magic, then?"

"Yes. My brother Asmund and I both do." The two began to slowly walk back toward the palace. "I can manipulate plants, Your Majesty."

"That's a lovely gift. I'm glad that you like magic."

"Why?"

"So does Loki. I believe that one day, he will be the finest sorcerer in Asgard. He is very gifted."

"Really?"

"Yes, He is. I'm sure you will have much more in common than you believe."

If only. "I'm sure you're right, Allmother."

Frigga patted the girl on the cheek fondly, and Maeve kept her expression even. A strange look crossed the Queen's face, but she just smiled and shook her head. "We should be heading in. The ceremony will start soon."

"What if we're late?" Maeve questioned, dreading what her father might do if she didn't arrive on time.

"The first thing you need to learn," Frigga said as she briskly led the way inside and to the throne room, "is that a lady is never late. Everyone else is simply early."

A grin spread across Maeve's face. "Indeed."

Once they reached the throne room, Frigga went to greet her family and Maeve hers. Her brothers instantly crowded around her.

"Maeve! Where have you been?"

"We've been looking for you everywhere!"

"Everywhere!"

"Hello Maeve!"

"Boys, let her breathe," Corey laughed, shoving the brothers away. "Where were you? We were wondering."

"Getting flowers," she answered, showing off her hair.

Asmund rolled his eyes, amused but not angry. "Of course you were. Good thing you showed up, they're letting the people in any minute."

"The people?" Maeve felt sick to her stomach. "We're doing this in front of people?"

"The Royal Court," Vali said. "But don't worry. It's just a few words, and it'll be over."

No. In just a few words, my life will be over.

Once the hall had been filled, Odin and Frey moved forward to address the crowd.

"My beloved people," Odin began. "I come to you today with joyous news. Today, I announce not only an ending, but a beginning."

Hm, Maeve thought to herself. What a poetic way to describe ruining two people's lives.

"Today, we declare the long feuds and wars between Asgard and Vanaheim to be over," Frey continued. "We will unite our two realms through the eternal bonds of marriage. One year from now, Vanaheim and Asgard will be connected by family. May I present Prince Loki of Asgard, god of lies and mischief, and Princess Maeve of Vanaheim."

Maeve moved to stand next to her father, and Loki stood by Odin. She prayed that she would have enough breath to make it through the ceremony.

"And now, the Prince and princess will commit their lives to each other."

Frigga stepped forward, smiling at the two young people. Maeve met Loki's startlingly green eyes and held up her hand. He did the same, and their fingers locked.

Frigga began the words traditional to a commitment ceremony. "Two souls have agreed to meet in a happy union. May they always know how blessed they are, for true love occurs for very few. Infatuation is fleeting, but marriage is forever. And now, they profess their intentions to each other, knowing they will wait a year to complete this commitment."

Loki cleared his throat. "I, Loki Odinson, take you, Maeve Freydottir, to be my bride. From today forward, we are bound. I am yours and you are mine. No secrets shall prevail between us. In the next year, I will prove my love and dedication to be true in all of my actions. I will cherish, guide, and protect you with all that I am, so when that glorious day comes where two become one, you will be sure of my affection. In the name of my father, Odin, and all of those before him, I pledge myself to you." He spoke in a soft, removed voice, and as he finished, the spark in his eyes disappeared.

"I, Maeve Freydottir, take you, Loki Odinson, to be my groom. From today forward, we are bound. I am yours and you are mine. No secrets shall prevail between us. In the next year, I will prove my love and dedication to be true in all of my actions. I will cherish, guide, and protect you with all that I am, so when that glorious day comes where two become one, you will be sure of my affection. In the name of my father, Frey, and all of those before him, I pledge myself to you."

Something shut down inside of Maeve. It was over. She'd lost.

A golden thread of magic ran around their clasped hands once the words had been spoken. Compared to Loki's cold hand, the magic was warm against her skin.

"Let the intentions of these two be known for all present here in this hall," Frigga said, nodding to the congregation gathered. "They come today to profess their dedication to each other. By the power vested in me, I declare them bonded in betrothal." The golden thread disappeared and the couple quickly dropped their hands amidst an applause that went on for over five minutes. Finally, the crowd dispersed, leaving the families lingering around the throne room. Odin, Frey, and Frigga all left to discuss future plans.

"Congratulations, brother!" Thor boomed, shaking Loki's hand in an exaggerated fashion. "Why don't we celebrate?"

"Yes!" Roscoe joined in. Thor dwarfed him, but Thor dwarfed almost everybody. "Let's celebrate! Engage in revels! Dance! Drink!"

"I know of a tavern with the best ale in Asgard," Thor said conspiratorially. "Shall we go?" The Freysons agreed, but Loki glanced down.

"Perhaps. I'll catch up with you. I want to go on a walk, clear my head." He swept out of the room without another word.

Maeve made a split-second decision. "Me too."

"Are you sure you'll be all right?" Corey asked. Concern flashed across his face.

"Yes. It's my new home, after all. I might as well explore." She smiled, curtseyed, and hurried after Loki, which proved to be a problem as she had no idea where he was going. She guessed directions and took off at top speed.

By the time Maeve found him nervously pacing the hallways, she was out of breath, gasping for air that her lungs couldn't properly take in due to the corset.

Loki looked at her sharply. "Why are you following me? I thought - are you all right?" She had leaned against the wall and closed her eyes.

"I'm... fine. It's this... dress. It's... too tight," she muttered, trying to calm herself down, but she couldn't breathe.

Loki watched the girl for a moment, unsure of what to do. On one hand, he didn't particularly like her. He had no attachments. If something happened, he wouldn't have to get married. Problem solved. But another part of him, the good part of his mind that often came to him in the voice of his mother, whispered something.

She is your flower now. You must protect her.

Maeve felt a cool hand slip around her waist. When she opened her eyes, her blue irises met a pair of emerald ones. "Just breathe. It's going to be all right. Come on, you need air." He led her out into the courtyard and over to a lone bench. Slowly, Maeve caught her breath, Loki's hand on the small of her back the entire time.

"Thank you," She finally whispered, unable to look into her betrothed's eyes. He brushed a lone curl that had escaped her ponytail out of her face.

"You are all right now?" He waited until she nodded. "I never understood why women felt the need to do that."

Maeve smiled wryly. "Because men are impressed by it, and according to tradition, we would be nowhere without men."

"Impressed by what? Fainting?" Loki leaned back on the bench, soaking in the afternoon sunshine. "That just ruins everything. Besides, women don't need to be or act a certain way to prove their worth. Just look at the Valkyries."

"It does sound rather silly when you put it that way," Maeve admitted.

"Indeed it does. I'm sure you are just as lovely with an extra few inches on your waist."

Did he just compliment me? Maeve wasn't actually sure. The sentence seemed double-sided.

"Thank you?"

"Why do you say it like a question? I stated a fact. Whether you wear dresses that constrict your breathing or not, there is no denying how striking you are." She turned away, but not quickly enough to hide her blush.

"Then, thank you," she said, this time more sure of herself. "It's nice to hear that some aren't completely superficial. I've always been told I had to look a certain way."

"By who?"

My father. "Just in general."

"Ah. One thing you will learn very quickly here is how impossible it is to lie to me. But we won't pursue that at the moment. I'm sure there are better topics to discuss." Loki shrugged and changed the subject. "Now, why did you come searching for me? I can't imagine that I have been such wonderful company to cause you to immediately seek me out."

Maeve couldn't tell if he was joking or not. Either way, she plowed ahead with her intentions. "I wanted to introduce myself."

"Haven't we been introduced well enough already?"

"This wasn't our choice. We met because our fathers said we had to. That's a lousy way to meet someone, especially one you'll be spending a lot of time with, so I wanted to start over." She held her hand out. "Hi. I'm Maeve."

Loki stared at her outstretched hand for a moment, uncertain. The whole thing seemed rather preposterous, but if it made her happy, then he'd oblige. "I'm Loki."

The two shook hands, and she smiled brightly. "See, we're properly introduced now. Like people, not pawns."

"There's a cut on your forehead," Loki commented. "Close to your hairline."

"Really? I must have missed it." She had carefully constructed an illusion to hide the bruise from her father and the scrapes from the collapsing stack of books.

"What happened?"

"A bookshelf fell on me."

"A bookshelf?" Loki asked as if he had never heard of such a thing. "Do tell, princess."

Maeve decided to keep talking. She liked the fact that they were actually having a conversation, a real one, and didn't want to end it simply because she was embarrassed. "Well, it was really odd. I was here years ago for the Harvest Ball, I don't know if you remember it. But I lost one of my shoes in the garden, and last night, it randomly reappeared in my room!"

"Did it now?" Loki asked mildly.

"Yes! And it kept appearing and vanishing like something cursed, and it scared me half to death. That's when I crashed into a bookshelf and it all fell down on me. I finally threw the shoe out off of my balcony, but it hit Prince Thor, and - why are you laughing so hard?"

Loki was practically rolling in his seat. Green eyes alight with glee, he asked, "did you really hit Thor?"

"Yes. I was mortified. I don't think he knew it was me, thank goodness. I hope I didn't hurt him, but he seemed fine today - it was you!"

"I beg your pardon?" Loki's eyebrows raises innocently. Maeve stood, fury growing in her small form.

"You were the one tricking me! You were the one who took the shoe!" She screamed, hands balled into fists as she recalled that night and its horrible aftermath. "It was you!"

"Calm down, my betrothed, it was simply a joke," he said, flashing a smirk. "And the fact that you hit Thor makes it all the better."

"I will not calm down! Everyone tells me that, don't you see? 'Maeve, calm down!' 'Maeve, be reasonable!' I'm sick and tired of it, and I'll tell you now, I'm not going to take it from you as well!"

She stormed back inside without another word. How was it possible that two minutes ago, she had liked him? She thought he was a gentleman when he helped her. She had enjoyed his company. And it turned out that he was behind that stupid stunt resulted in one of the worst nights of her life. The flower ring wilted as anger overtook her.

Everyone who thought this marriage would work was kidding themselves.