The dawn's gentle light landed on the shining helmets of the towering guards around the square, darting down from the resplendent roof of the Fairy Palace. The light danced with childish glee, gliding down the broad armors, weaving amongst the hooves and mud-dampened shoes then leaping, with a heart just as passionate as the Asgardians', into the fountain's spray. It was then tossed high into the air by the fountain's chute.
A muscular warrior plummeted from mid-air, caught by his comrades, only to be tossed again amidst cheers. As the young warriors turned, goddesses in white gowns carried water jugs and fruit baskets atop their heads, threading through the crowd like fish, smiling and saluting all the guests, placing the flower wreaths on their arms on people's heads.
The distant layered buildings bore the antique flavor of ancient Asgard. Back then, the glorious Golden Palace had not been established yet. The Asgardians made their living off boats, built fortresses with mud, laid tiles neatly on the roofs, and hung their flags beneath the wooden window frames.
Virtually no interstellar civilizations that can traverse the universe maintain such a primitive aura in their architecture. Most civilizations have already simplified all unnecessary elements through numerous technological renovations. They are paying for their frail bodies, a price the Gods need not pay.
Therefore, to the guests' eyes, this forms a unique view. Many Asgardians still live in brick houses with wooden doors that creak when pushed open. However, when countless houses are stacked against the skyline, they display a kind of orderly beauty.
The morning light flows between the rooftops, carefully slides across the banners connecting the rooftops like a steel wire over a river. The tavern owner, who is hanging a string of colored flags at the end of the house's eaves, feels a rhythmic vibration coming from the ladder beneath his feet.
"Cloppity-clop, cloppity-clop, cloppity-clop."
The urgent galloping of hooves echoed from afar. A pair of knights in magnificent armor dashed from the far end of the street. The leader wore a dual-horned helmet, holding a tall flagpole, atop which Arsgard's flag fluttered against the wind.
The children, mimicking the posture of the knights, darted through the ever-moving crowd. Listening to the laughing and scolding behind them and the distant low horns.
The bugler on the watchtower in front of the Fairy Palace put down his massive horn and turned his head to look at the flock of white pigeons flocking from the horizon. With their wings flapping, the pigeons drifted over the heads of the crowd, attracting everyone's attention, they flourished their wings again and flew towards the highest point of the Fairy Palace.
At the highest balcony facing the square, Sif wore silver Asgardian ceremonial attire. Made entirely of delicate glowing silver fabric, with thin light armor covering from the side of the neck to the chest. A layer of thin chain mail hung from the long skirt at the hips. Her hair was styled up, and she wore a pure white flower wreath.
She extended her hand to let a white pigeon rest on her arm and got a branch from the bird's mouth. Turning to Thor, she said, "This is a blessing from the World Tree, Baldur is saying hello to us."
"He is my eldest brother, and I should, of course, accept his good intentions." Thor took the branch and pinned it to the fasteners at his waist. Thor was dressed in intricate armor, lined with solid dark red cotton fabric. Each piece of scale armor on his chest bore intricate patterns, shaped by countless times of tempering by Dwarfs. His slender waist was wrapped in a belt, above his leg armor hung three silk decorations, rhombic shaped fish bones dangled below.
Thor did not wear a helmet; instead, he let his golden hair flow loosely while wearing a special crown with nine different gems embedded, which came from different races of the Nine Major Kingdoms, symbolizing the unification of the nine realms.
Sif held a scepter, but Thor was unarmed except for a piece of long cloth nearly touching the ground. Illustrated on it was a fat fish.
This represented an indispensable part of traditional Asgardian wedding ceremonies. Young sailors would catch the strongest, fattest sea fish for their lovers, representing the best gift of love. If the girl accepted the courtship, she would cook the fish and make the leftover bones into jewelry to give back to him. Anyone who had a necklace made of fish bones from their lover would be envied by all.
After they came to Asgard, this tradition was preserved. However, the fresh sea fish was replaced by a cloth depicting a fish pattern.
Under the gaze of the crowd at the square and the condensed Asgardian residents on the streets, Thor lifted up the cloth to Sif. Sif took the long cloth, stretched one hand across Thor's chest, wrapped it around his back, and placed a kiss on his cheek.
The crowd cheered enthusiastically. Thor held Sif's hand, hoisting her scepter as if it was his own, representing that the Divine King and Queen would rule Asgard as equals, becoming the parents of all Gods, denying powerful enemies like a nation, and providing warmth and harmony of a family internally.
Odin and Frigga also stood in the square, hand in hand, watching the newlyweds.
"Is this the end?" Odin mumbled to himself. He then answered himself, "No, this is just the beginning. When Thor truly becomes a father, he will just start to understand me."
"But he is destined not to follow the same path as you," Frigga turned to Odin, her gaze falling onto his still impressively handsome profile.
"There are hundreds and thousands of paths for a king, but only one for a father." Odin watched Thor and Sif on the balcony. Surprisingly, the mighty Divine King, who had been awe-inspiring for a lifetime, became much more sentimental in private—he was on the verge of tears. In contrast, Frigga remained even more composed.
"First comes possession, then protection, and finally, the reluctance to watch them leave. In the lonely years, a father guards memories and heads towards death. That's a father's life."
Loki watched as the Divine King and Queen descended from their high platform, merged into the throng of people, then boarded the carriage to begin their parade.
"Perhaps it's not that I can't possess or protect, but that leaving will eventually destroy everything I have. Thinking about it, I have nearly lost all courage. Thor's strength lies in his willingness to be the last one to leave," Loki thought.
"Asgard is about to step onto an even bigger stage, someday, the World Tree will no longer be the fulcrum of the Nine Major Kingdoms, just like every grown child must leave their parents' embrace."
On the second floor of a tavern next to the street, Strange leaned against the railing of the balcony, watching the crowd below cheering for the approaching royal carriage. He took a sip of his wine and sighed, "Even the wisest of kings will turn to dust in the river of time, but just like a father, what he leaves behind is the start of a new journey."
"When talking about marriage, it's not just about the ceremony, but also society, responsibility, human nature," Stark said from atop a high pile of crates by the gate of the stable, listening to the distant commotion and drinking a shot of Asgard's strong liquor, "as well as love and interests."
"I thought you only talked about love." Shiller, leaning against the wall next to Stark, stubbornly held a glass of red wine brought from Earth. Stark's brown eyes reflected the darkness that emerged when his back was turned against the bright sunlight, as if being melted back into honey.
"Tony, you deliberately let Steven hint at me with that untouched glass of alcohol, he rarely gets down to business, but if he wants to oppose me, why bother holding back? I thought that after his arrival, some of your sentimentality would wane."
"You're wrong, both of us think this is my sharpest weapon," Stark said, smiling at Shiller. "It's not just the other you who likes small favours, it's a common trait between you two. Even though you questioned me, you were pleased with my giving ground, weren't you?"
Shiller tilted his head back slightly and took a gulp of wine, "I don't mind lowering myself to feel joy at deliberate courtesy from a friend. It's a part of my life too, a pleasure I should rightly enjoy."
"You see, it's not only endless gains that please you." Stark's voice was as light-hearted as if he were telling a humorous story, even though Iron Man rarely let his guard down, let alone the man in his head.
But when the dew cast off by the passing parade carriage splashed onto his shoulder, he laughed in a low voice. In the sliver of sunlight shining through a gap in the awning, his eyelashes fluttered like golden butterflies. Seeing this, Shiller also began to laugh.
The streets were filled with burly warriors with their arms linked, forming a human wall, and their rough, hearty singing echoed through the sky of Asgard throughout the night.
When the bonfire was lit, the goddesses, dressed in traditional Asgardian clothing, performed a joyous harvest dance. Their long flowing hair sent ripples through the air, making the ash from the burning fire dance with them.
The royal family of Asgard, humans and mutants, even Thanos, Star Lord, and Rocket Raccoon raised their cups. The foam that bubbled from the colliding cups was like a bright fountain in the morning sun.
No amount of scheming or trading of interests could compare to the moment of indulgence and dedication to the celebration.
The heat from the crowd eventually turned into an intoxicating drink that even the coldest and most aloof loners couldn't resist the common bustling.
But amidst the crowd, one person was conspicuously absent. At that moment, the queen of the Shi'ar Empire, Lilandra's soul, was leaning against Charles in the office of the Hogwarts-like Dreamland School, weeping inconsolably.
"I came to you for the reform of the Shi'ar Empire! At most it was only for the Crystal. Even so, we haven't gotten that intimate, have we?! He actually, he actually…"
"Alright, Lilandra, your alliance was merely a product of interest exchange. There's no reason to obsess over it, the Shi'ar Empire is still counting on you," said Charles.
"The Shi'ar Empire?!" Lilandra raised her voice. "To hell with the empire! I'm never going back! Whoever wants to be the queen can bloody well be the queen!"
"That's what you said, Your Majesty," Shiller walked out of the portal with a smirk on his face, still smelling of alcohol from the celebration he had just slip out of.
Upon looking up, Lilandra found herself staring into Shiller's eyes. Charles sighed in exasperation.
When Lilandra turned her head again, she was met with Magneto's deathly poker face and Mystique, who had just walked out from behind him.