A/N

Thor/Loki story, arranged marriage AU in which Loki grows up on Jotunheim and many more changes to the universe are made (will be explained in fic).

Rated: M, almost no warnings. There is age difference, but no consent issues (as there is no smut yet).

I will be glad for any positive comments.

Work in progress

The chambers of the king of Asgard were in an unusual disarray. The builders and mages, called to work hand in hand to give the new rooms shape and strength (for only the poorest shacks could be built without the use of mages' technology in Asgard) now gave way to carpenters and quilters who scrambled to furnish the many rooms with the best they had to offer.

For the most part, the men and women charged with this task worked with confidence born from their experience. But there were questions they needed to ask. What colours to use? Should a nursery be built right away as well?

And the questions were answered on discreet slips of paper, brought to the foremen. Sometimes they were written in tiny, elegant cursive, sometimes in a slightly bigger, stiffer script. The king and his mother were both personally invested in the renovation.

The king's colours would remain red and grey. His betrothed's colour was green, but the queen suggested that it be used subtly and with a rainbow of blues and aquas accompanying it. The shared spaces should be golden and brown, neutral and soothing.

And there would be no nursery for the time being.

The king himself was in another part of the palace, in one of the many war chambers that were used for council meetings, private audiences of the royal family and generally any work concerning the kingdom. He regarded his private study as a place of solace, despite the work – and especially paperwork – he usually did there. Now it was nearly as messy as the chambers being prepared at the other side of the palace, but he wouldn't know that, since he hasn't entered those in several days. The large desk at which he was seated was covered in letters and documents and a few books were scattered across the surface as well. Those were mostly to assure Thor that by marrying a man, he would not be ridding himself of the possibility of having an heir. That there were safe ways. And he learned that there certainly were, rituals and spells crafted so that even lovers who could not produce a child as was typically done could reach the familial fulfilment if they so wished.

It should have been a relief, but Thor discovered the knowledge rather made him anxious. It was one less reason why not go through with this marriage.

But that was of course nonsense. He was the one who crafted the plan, who invited the peace-treating party from Jotunheim and who made hints that such a proposition would be welcome from the king of Jotunheim.

King of Jotunheim, a precarious title, one that many believed Laufey didn't have the right to use.

Thor got up; the room was hot and felt stuffy. A fire was burning high in the hearth, perhaps too high and Thor opened the balcony door and stepped out, greeted with a gust of cold air. Leaning against the railing, he let himself enjoy the sight of Asgard at night, the glowing lights of torches and lanterns tinting the world in orange hues, reflected in the snow that lay on almost every surface. His heart swelled with pride as he gazed at the prospering, golden city. For two hundred years he ruled this realm and strived to protect the others and, in words of one old soldier that Thor met in a tavern and who didn't recognize him, he didn't cock it up yet.

"You should get some rest. It's a big day tomorrow."

Thor turned to Frigga, smiling. He had heard her approach, but simply let the whispering of her skirts wash over him, another soothing agent in the moment of peace he was trying to grant himself.

"Mother," he inclined his head and then took her hands in his, kissing them lightly.

"Oh darling, you are worrying yourself, aren't you?"

They sat down on a bench that was sheltered from the weather at the far end of the balcony together, and Thor shrugged.

"I am... I worry for what this choice will bring. To Asgard, to Jotunheim... " he trailed off and took a deep breath before continuing. "And to me."

"And to your husband."

"Yes," Thor laughed, but it was not a happy sound. "To my young, young husband."

"Is that what weights on you?" Frigga sounded surprised and that in turn surprised Thor. Often he thought she knew what he felt or thought before he himself knew it.

"Among other things, of course."

"Is that why you said there was to be no nursery?"

"Yes. It could be centuries before we even consider a child."

"You seem to have many preconceptions about your husband even though you've never met him," Frigga noted and Thor knew that even though her words and her tone were soft, there was reprimand in them. "And you are making decisions that concern you both without giving him the chance to speak his mind."

Thor got up from the bench, returning to the railing and looking down. It was impolite to turn his back on his mother like that, but he found he was too tired to care.

"I know of his age. I know of his station. I'm sure he will appreciate this."

He could tell that she was unhappy with his response, but she pressed no further, sensing how on edge he was.

"I'm sure tomorrow will make things much clearer and hopefully happier as well. There is no more for you to do today, so forget your worries."

She parted with his with a kiss on the forehead, standing up on her toes while Thor bent down, a smile playing on his lips as a bit of the tension left him thanks to her gentle gesture. Then he did as she bid him and retired to his temporary chambers, willing the sleep to come.

Loki had mastered slipping into the throne room unseen and unheard many years ago, but today he he was especially careful as it mattered to him more than usual to hear what was being said behind the closed doors. Nobody was present but his father and mother. Laufey abandoned sitting on the high throne in favour of slow pacing across the hall, while Farbauti sat still at the head of the long feasting table.

"He's prepared?" Laufey asked abruptly, breaking the tense silence that Loki observed. A small jolt ran through him. Not that he had doubted they would, but they were talking about him.

"As he will ever be."

His mother's tone was sharp and unhappy.

He looked to her with a mixture of emotion swirling through him; love and admiration, yes, but he couldn't help feeling a stab of resentment. She was against his marriage to the king of Asgard. Loki could even understand why, but it still angered him. He gazed at her, sitting straight and tall, with long black hair that he inherited from her (and she in turn from her Vanir mother, who, Loki suspected, was the reason why Farbauti despised the idea of him leaving his birthplace for another realm) spilling across her back.

"He will be safer on Asgard that he could ever be here if things remained as they are. The Aesir's offer is our last and only option."

"Safer," Farbauti scoffed. "With the old king panting after him. Sending messengers enquiring after heirs eligible for marriage."

"King Thor," Laufey replied, putting force behind the words, "is not even two thousand years old."

Then Laufey let the strict tone slip and his voice came out as a darker rumble. Unlike Farbauti, he wanted Loki to marry the king, but he had his own reservations.

"And I don't doubt his reasons for this proposal had nothing to do with Loki and everything to do with Jotunheim. You know the nature of these Aesir. They think the universe belongs to them. Theirs to protect. A fancy word for control and own."

"If the Aesir hadn't protected Midgard, you would not be king now."

More sharps words were said, but Loki tuned the argument out, playing distractedly with the hem of his tunic, crouched as he was in his hiding place; he knew well the old wound that haunted his father. He was not of royal blood and he became king after the War with the Aesir when the old king and all his heirs fell, seizing the power to keep the weakened realm from falling apart fully. But this Loki knew already; his heart was beating fast for another reason – finally he heard more about his future husband. His mother called him old, but Loki knew this was not true. All the messengers travelling between he realms and bringing back and forth the letters and documents that were necessary spoke of the king favourably – even if that was not their intention. But Loki could read between the lines. They called him pale and yellow and Loki knew that they really spoke of gold and beauty of different kind that the kind that could be seen on Jotunheim. They called him stiff and formal and Loki knew it meant dignified and strong. So he had already learned things about his future husband's looks and the way he presented himself, but now he snatched a very interesting piece of information: the proposal had been Thor's idea.

Loki slipped away, using the raised voices of his parents as cover. In his rooms, he was once again faced with the reality of tomorrow – trunks and packages were neatly stacked by the entrance, ready to be taken away. His stomach trembled and mostly it was with impatience and excitement, but fear crept in as well. He told himself it was natural. Such a big change had to bring some trepidation, no matter how much he wished for it. He climbed to his large bed, using the stool that helped him reached the height as usual and then he kicked it away with sudden surge of resentment. No more of this. Never again.