Few brides had probable seemed as solom as Iona did as she prepared for the wedding as she fought the desire to flee. The danger to her beloved home had passed...but every time she resigned herself to her fate, the flutter of to panic threatened to over take her as her maidens, friends since childhood wove flowers in her hair, her mother offering sage advice that was unheard. At least the brave and nobel citizens of Asgard could have their celebration. They didn't need a blushing happy bride for *that*.
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