CHAPTER 6 – THE BARGAIN
Of course, Loki had been immediately summoned by Allfather Odin.
"Loki, I have grave news. Your daughter received an unwelcome visit from the Deathbringer of all Pantheons."
The trickster's skin began to crawl. "What happened, Allfather?" he asked. Hela had told him how Death had frightened her when she was a girl, and her father had reason to be afraid for her.
"It was that business about Dyggvi Domarsson. You really shouldn't have dabbled in dark magics to get her what she wanted. I don't even know why you bothered. Hela really isn't cut out for relationships."
"Who said she isn't? She's done quite well for the last several hundred years, even better than you because she manages to keep from philandering like some people I could mention! But never mind! What has happened? Stop your infernal stalling, Allfather!"
"Lord Death reversed your efforts, it seems, returning King Dyggvi to the dust he would have been but for your interference. He struck Hela down with a lingering state akin to death as punishment; she lies unattended and unaware in her hall. Of course, I now have my hands full trying to manage the constant influx of souls. See what you can do, won't you?"
Loki sneered. "Such caring! Such empathy! Your support is so very deeply appreciated!" He turned and raced out of the hall, bent on exercising his considerable talents to save his own.
Odin did not reply, preferring instead to scan the kingdom of death with his all-seeing Eye. Perhaps he should ask Hades for help? The Greek death god's kingdom was rather sparsely-populated these days, after all.
The trickster quickly turned to his own dark gifts.
Even before he left for Niflheim to attend to his daughter, Loki Laufeyarson had conjured Lord Death on the summit of Mt. Galdhøpiggen. It had taken nearly every particle of life-force he possessed, but he did not mind sparing it. He had missed his daughter's presence in Asgard all these centuries and had always treasured her love for him in his twisted heart, though he was loath to admit it. It would be worth it to him on many levels to keep her alive.
If this was love, the King of Lies thought, well, then, so be it.
"Ah, Lord Death," he said, sweeping low into a bow. "Thank you for seeing me.
"Lord Death towered over him. "You are but a dust mote in My eye," he replied drily.
"Excuse me, sir, but you've exploded my son-in-law and put my daughter in a coma. Meeting with me is the least you can do."
"Do not speak to Me of entitlements, dust mote," Death replied. "A creature like you is less than nothing to a creature like Me, who has existed since the beginning of time."
It took every ounce of restraint Loki possessed (which was not much) to keep him from firing off a sarcastic reply. Instead, the trickster decided to show the soft underbelly.
"I am a mortal creature and know I must die."
"Indeed," Lord Death intoned. "And the sooner the better."
Loki chuckled heartily. "That's a good one, Lord Death. A good one indeed. However, my daughter lies at the brink of death and you might just appreciate that my bringing Dyggvi Domarsson to her was simply a devoted father's attempt to make her happy."
"It is hard for Me to believe that a creature such as you would bother to make anyone happy."
Loki again bit his tongue; it became increasingly apparent that Lord Death was a bigger wit than he. Nevertheless, he continued to press his case.
"I myself brought Domarsson, ensouled once again in his rejuvenated body, to Niflheim. I don't recall becoming one of your soldiers nor taking your oaths, although my daughter did on both accounts. It is not her fault, so I'm sure you can agree with me that she should not suffer for her father's gesture of beneficence."
At this, even Lord Death executed an eye-roll. "Get to the point, dust mote," he grunted. "I have a meeting on a planitesimal some seventeen hundred light-years hence in five minutes."
Loki then decided he would try to appeal to Death's more humane side, which he only recognized much later for the insanity it was.
"Well, what of it? Why can't a death deity have a loved one on hand to keep him or her sane during their long years of servitude to you?"
Death grimaced. "I tried that about a thousand years ago with the Greeks. It was a headache. The most I will allow a death entity's special little friend is six months in the land of the dead and six months away from it. Any less than that, they whine. Any more than that, they become too used to lollygagging around and neglect their responsibilities to Me. And if the mortals of this or any realm tie such comings and goings to the changing of the seasons, then more fools they."
Loki tilted his handsome head and tried again. "Can we agree that I will serve some – minor – penalty for my deed? And would you also agree to restoring Dyggvi Domarsson to my daughter's side and bringing her unharmed from her coma?"
"Slim chance," Death replied. "You can do better than that."
"Well – let me agree to some – boon or deed that I can do for you."
"You are utterly worthless."
Loki winced. This was not going well.
"Oh, come! Surely there is something I can do for a being as exalted as you!"
Death's cold black eyes pierced the trickster god to his very soul. "There is, in fact. A sacrifice. A nice blood sacrifice; or somebody's life-force; or better yet a life-skein or two - every deity's favorites. Sacrifices make me happy. I don't know why; silly me."
Loki hesitated but realized that it was too late to retract his offer.
"First of all, Domarsson is gone and will stay gone. I will not bring him back to his former state because his former state was unnatural and went against the Way of Things. Second, if you wish to bargain for your daughter's life, you must give Me at least part of the lives of your other children to bring things back into balance. Balance is important to Me. It is vital for My personal well-being."
The trickster god hesitated. Sacrifice one child to save another? He loathed situational ethics.
"What say you, flatterer? Make haste; I refuse to be late because a smattering of dust and goo wants to hold My attention for one moment longer than absolutely necessary."
Loki was beginning to panic but was clever enough to realize that it was time to lay his cards on the table. "Very well," Loki replied testily. "I agree in concept, Lord Death. No problem at all. However, at this time my other children are – shall we say – indisposed."
"Indeed. One is in chains, one lies at the bottom of the sea, and the third stands in a stable enjoying a salt-lick. Two are who knows where. In the names of the gods of all pantheons, Loki Laufeyarson, what were you thinking?"
Loki waved his hand dismissively. A response would take precious time and it was clear that his daughter's was running out. "Let's say instead that you may have part of the lives of my children yet unborn in exchange for allowing my Hela to live."
Death shrugged. "If I cared a whit, I might haggle over whether or not you will have children in the future; however, I do not. With your track record in this realm it seems likely. Besides, a Horseman of the Apocalypse has better things to do than deal with a blithering idiot like you."
"Blithering idiot? Really?" Tentacles of electrically-charged mist began to creep from Loki's fingers.
"Oh, please," Death chided. "I have destroyed worlds."
The mist vanished.
The death being sighed. "So be it. Done and done."
Lord Death vanished.
Loki stood stock-still for a few minutes, shivering atop Mt. Galdhøpiggen. What had he done?
"Well, bother it," he thought; "I don't really want any more children and even if they come about, I don't have to fret about it now."
The trickster god was a heedless soul after all, believing more in enjoying the present than worrying about the future. His daughter – not his wife – was his blood and that, in Loki's egocentric world, was what was most important.
Besides, no one in the Nine Worlds – god or man or dwarf or giant – had a free pass to a long and pain-free life.
And so it was that Loki bargained away part of the life-skeins of Narvi and Vali, his and Sigyn's sons yet unborn.