Loki felt a subtle pulse of magic, first in his arm, around his wrist where the white cord joined them, and then a warmth spreading from Thor’s hand into his and into his very body itself.
He admired the new tattoo-like mark on his arm for a moment before Thor pulled him into his kiss and Loki gladly, hungrily kissed him back. He wrapped his arms around Thor, pressing as close as his swollen belly would let him.
“And I you,” he whispered back. “Together as one. My dear mate. My strong mate. Mine, mine, mine.”
Chuckling, Thor held Loki tightly, though carefully, and echoed, “My bright, beautiful mate. My Loki. Mine, mine, mine.”
“Alright you two,” Jord called laughingly. “There is a feast waiting for us in the hall! You have all night to make eyes at each other.”
The crowd laughed and clapped as Thor grinned sheepishly at his mother. With his arms still around Loki’s waist, he lead everyone to the hall where some of the women, led by Nissa, had taken the time to further decorate the hall with flowers and laid out the food. Lit by colored lanterns, the hall was beautiful. The savoury smells of roast ox and boar mixed with sweet fruit and cakes.
As they walked in, the musicians struck up a jolly tune and the people poured in to take their seats and get to the food. At the head table, Thor made sure Loki was comfortable and began cutting slices of juicy boar and placing them on Loki’s plate. Looking around, Thor saw smiling faces and mounds of good food, his mother was holding court to his left, and on his right hand, was his radiant mate. This was exactly how he pictured his wedding.
“My beloved Loki,” Thor rumbled for his mate’s ears. “Are you happy? I wish I could give you the royal wedding you deserve. I would drape you in gold and gems, shower you with rare silks, and bath you in perfumes.”
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