Marriage Of Convenience

Chapter Six

Kagome couldn't recall her last dinner date, and to be honest probably didn't want to because she knew, just knew, that it was with Hojo, so as she sat across from Thor, the candle light dancing around the room creating shadows, all she could do was gulp.

They had barely seen each since the night of their engagement, four days ago at the least, so when she had been told that she would be eating with him in his own private dining quarters she felt nervous.

She could tell he was as well. Though he tried to hide it. Normally he would be shoveling food down his throat and be drinking mead by the gallons. Chatting merrily about something or another yet there he sat, back straight, gaze on his plate and silverware in hand.

Talk about awkward.

She let out an internal sigh, she was not used to this formal crap and to be honest didn't like that he was pretending to someone he wasn't, she had met Thor once or twice before on Midgard and she knew this was not him. So why he was pretending to be a proper young man puzzled her. She for damn sure wasn't a proper young lady, so why put on this rouse?

They were behind closed doors. Alone.

So why put in so much effort? A small voice in the back of her head wondered if he would do so with their marriage? Hope flared in her chest, yet she pushed it down. No use getting her hopes up, it was too soon. Yet she knew it was too late, he had already found a way into her heart, so seeing him so uncomfortable put her on edge.

She set her utensil down and let out a loud sigh. "Thor, this is so not...us." She cracked a smile as he looked at her in confusion. She rolled her eyes, "I may not know you well enough for us to be getting married in less than a week but I know this isn't you. You haven't touched your mead all night, nor have you really said much."

He sighed, realizing she was not testing him and was generally curious and concerned, as he set down his own utensils and nodded. "Aye, but father-" He paused at the look she gave him slumped down a bit in his chair. She was right, he was so caught up in playing his role of king to be that he did whatever his father asked of him. Having a formal sit down engagement dinner included.

Tradition dictated that they do this, have a formal dinner to discuss her dowry and such. Normally a scribe would be there to take down notes, yet since she was from Midgard there was no dowry, no fee to be paid to her family to marry her.

As such his mother insisted that they just forgo that part and just have dinner, get to know each other, his father had been upset, it was not tradition, yet had given in so long as he vowed to be a proper man of his station. No mead, no jokes, no babbling on about his day.

It was easy to see that his bride to be could see through his act. It amazed and frightened him, he had not known her well. He knew of her tales, everyone did, but he did not personally know her. So for her to be able to tell when he was pretending to be something he was not sent a small shiver down his spine.

He knew she had seen a lot, done a lot in her travels, it must have modeled and melded her to be able to figure out certain things, a sixth sense if you would. It would serve her well as a ruler, and he was glad that she was chosen to be his wife, his queen. She would bring much to the table, his lands would flourish.

With a grin he nodded his head and grabbed his mead, planning to tell her all about his day and adventures, loving the way she lit up and flourished under his warm gaze. Maybe this would be easier than he had thought at first. She would no doubt prove to be a close friend, a dear one and it made him happy.