CHAPTER 10 - Niffleheim

Loki lead the way through the portal from Nidavellir and Niffleheim. Wanda took a minute or so more before following after him. Loki couldn't help the small smile of pride as she stepped through intact. He didn't tend to trust many to pass through the rifts in the realms by themselves but Wanda was proving to be a wonderful student. She had already progressed rapidly through the beginning years of Loki's studies and was now onto a few steps later, shape shifting. Though he was much smarter about it then he had once been. Wanda was made to practice on other objects rather than herself. In fact, Loki doubted he'd ever teach her to shape shift her own form.

"Excellent," Loki complimented, having slowly getting nicer and nicer to her the more they worked together. Wanda scoffed, unsure if she should trust him and his nice words. Loki chuckled, having gotten rather used to her reaction. She wasn't meanly scoffing at him, it sounded oddly confused and it kind of endeared him to her even more. "I was not being sarcastic."

"Okay," Wanda muttered, unsure what to say after that as embarrassment flooded through her. Loki again chuckled, shaking his head at her which seemed to only add to her embarrassment. Honestly, he was far too used to people not trusting his words or twisting them to mean something far worse than what he meant. Lately, Wanda trusted him more than most but still had moments where compliments and kinder words were mistaken. Wanting to move on from the subject, Wanda looked around the area they had walked into. Niffleheim was different from Nidavellir as it looked barren, with little to no plant life at all. And with no plant life, there seemed to be no animal life either. "So, this is Niffleheim?"

"This is a part of Niffleheim. As I mentioned once before, Niffleheim holds Valhalla, Elysium and Hel. We will not be seeing Valhalla as only those honored in death can pass through it's gates. Elysium and Hel are nearly interlaced with each other but you may see the differences as we travel. Currently, this looks like someone's Hel," Loki explained, taking a cursory look around. Wanda frowned, reading into Loki's words for any bit of information. She found that sometimes Loki said something that had multiple meanings and she'd have to dig a bit more to find it.

"Someone's Hel?" Wanda wondered, picking up correctly on Loki's choice of words. Loki smirked. Very few could pick up on his particular style of speech. Figuring he could walk and talk, Loki turned and headed off in the direction he sensed his sister's energy. Wanda took a moment before she followed after him, rushing a bit to catch up with him.

"Yes. The reason Elysium and Hel are interlaced is that Niffleheim itself reacts to where each soul settles. If a soul is bound for Hel, they would reside in endless torment in a barren world like this. Elysium is meant to be restful and would be similar to Valhalla or like Hel, depending on how the soul wants to spend eternity," Loki tried describing. He had asked Frigga once about how Niffleheim worked but it's rules were so strange that even she had an issue describing it. Wanda blanched.

"Who wants to spend eternity suffering?" she questioned, shaking her head at the absurdity of it. Loki shrugged, having once thought he might and still feared he would. The area around them subtly changed to show a bit more plant life, but most of it looked dead and wilting. As they continued to walk, it slowly became more lively, almost like a reverse way of a plant dying in fall to ready for winter.

"Depending upon the soul's belief in life, they might not truly choose it. Niffleheim almost is a presence unto itself. It can examine a soul to find the best place for them to go," Loki replied, frowning as he realized he might not have said that clearly enough. Wanda also frowned, having not understood what he meant. "Okay, let's break it down this way. Say that the soul was a Roman Catholic (MIND YOU I KNOW LITTLE ABOUT THEM! I am agnostic) who committed suicide. According to that belief, I believe, the soul is supposed to be bound to one of the various 'rings of hell'. Niffleheim will place the soul inside it's own Hel. Now that is not to say they suffer eternal torment. Niffleheim also judges the soul to make sure it receives proper punishment. This could mean that the soul is basically sitting upon a rock with nothing around them. Depends on what they need. Hel is eternal torment in whichever way is best for the soul. Niffleheim will not let a soul needlessly suffer."

"That sounds... Almost pleasant," Wanda commented, partly surprised at it. Loki nodded. He had thought the same thing. But after all he had done, his Hel would truly be endless torment.

"So many think of the afterlife in terms of black and white, heaven and hell, pleasant and not. But there is more varying degrees of gray. Being in one over the other doesn't tend to mean much. Even Valhalla is basically considered for the 'good side'. But, lets say that I, as a villain, attacks Earth and I die in that battle. Then at the same I, or a minion of mine, kill Captain Rogers. Both of us, as we died in battle, should end up in Valhalla together."

"Should?" Wanda inquired.

"I hear Rogers is a Christian. Not many Christians believe in an afterlife that involves endless battles until Ragnarok," Loki answered easily. Wanda's seemingly eternal frown deepened.

"Didn't Ragnarok just happen?" Loki snorted.

"In a way, yes. Ragnarok comes about in many forms. Fenrir, my son, is supposed to cause one. Surtur, the one Thor and I caused, is another. Odin is also supposed to lead the charge against invaders from Jotunheim. Another child of mine is supposed to kill Thor. As long as Asgard exists, in whatever form, Ragnarok can happen over and over," Loki stated, his voice going blank as a way to defend himself from showing emotions. Wanda opened her mouth to ask something else but suddenly Loki waved a hand quickly beside him. When she went to speak, her throat felt frozen. Not frozen like she couldn't breath or swallow, but stiff. Sore. Without having to try again, Wanda understood that Loki had frozen her vocal cords. Silently they walked as all around them Niffleheim changed over and over. It was maybe hours before Loki finally waved his hand again and Wanda was freed. "You could have broken out of that spell, easily."

"Yes. I know," Wanda admitted, having instead used the silence to think on everything Loki had told her. Sam had once mentioned that Thor's stories seemed to revolve a lot around ancient Norwegian lore. "Wasn't Hela supposed to be your only daughter?"

"Hel. She was named Hel. Not my choice in the matter. Odin named her. She... She came out basically half formed. None of Asgard wanted to look at her. Considering most of my other children were destined for Ragnarok or some death in some way, shape or form, Odin thought he'd be forgiving on Hel. She was sent here, to Niffleheim as a ruler. Lately though, no one has really heard from her," Loki answered, his voice tight. Wanda sighed.

"Have you?"

"She came to me, weeks before she left. She claimed something was going to happen and she couldn't be involved. She was needed elsewhere. I didn't understand it then. Now... Now I think I do," Loki muttered and somehow Wanda could tell that this was all he was going to say. It was probably a good thing as suddenly they heard a rather loud growl. Looking around, Wanda was surprised to notice that they were suddenly at a cliff edge with various cave like entrances strewn about. The one dead in front of them had a woman, dressed in green, standing beside a huge female wolf. "Hela."

"My dear... Adopted, brother," Hela greeted, pausing to look down upon Loki as she stated adopted. Loki tensed but otherwise showed no signs that he was affected by this word. Wanda felt her powers begin to rise in reaction to her anger of Hela's greeting. At the sudden change in magic in the air, Hela glanced over to the witchling. "And who might this young thing be?"

"A friend of the man you took," Loki hissed between his teeth. Hela laughed loudly.

"He actually had friends? Wow, did not see that," she chuckled, seemingly making a joke to herself. Fenris huffed out a soft sound that almost could be considered a laugh. Wanda's power appeared around her hands, flaring. Hela seemed to enjoy this show even more as she laughed again. Loki placed a hand on Wanda's arm to draw her attention. She turned her glare onto him and was stunned to see his compassionate face. It took a moment for her to realize that Loki was trying to calm her. Slowly she drew back her power and tried to cool her temper. Something about this woman made Loki fear her and after everything the two had done so far, Loki knew how ready Wanda was to take her on. "Aw, don't think you guys can stand against me?"

"Hela," Loki warned as if he and Wanda were more powerful than she. Somehow, here, Loki knew that Hela had more power. Just like when she had been on Asgardian soil. Hela laughed again.

"Ah, you sense it don't you?" Hela questioned. Loki gritted his teeth but said nothing. Wanda glanced at him and then to Hela. Carefully, she opened her own senses to get an idea of what had Loki so frozen. "Dear father had thought that by imprisoning me here, I'd weaken. But millennia here with nothing to do taught me some interesting things. I learned so much."

"Hela, please. Get to the point," Loki huffed, trying to regain any sort of control over this situation. Hela again laughed at his gall.

"Honestly? You dare try and control me?" she wondered. Loki shook his head.

"No, merely asking for you to not stall," Loki countered. Hela smirked.

"Fine. I'm guessing your here for revenge on the archer's death?" she muttered as if Clint's life was meaningless and just simply a show of power. And while it may have been her intent, Clint was so much more than she understood.

"Not revenge if you easily release him," Wanda snapped before Loki could speak. Loki groaned softly. He hadn't realized Wanda was going to be quick to snap comments without thinking them through like Thor. If he had realized this, he might have left his silencing spell on her a bit longer. Hela laughed.

"And what would I get if I release him?" Hela inquired. Wanda frowned. "Well? I took him for a reason dear girl. What would I get if I give him back?"

"What do you get with keeping him?" Wanda spat. Hela smiled, her face twisting into the most evilest look that Wanda could picture. She instinctively took a step away.

"Entertainment," Hela purred, pulling out a small orange gold stone. Loki stiffened at the sight before quickly pulling Wanda behind himself.

"How did you get that?" Loki snarled.

"It is surprising to learn that the Vaults of Valhalla are held so close to the prison cells here," Hela commented, turning the stone around to look at it from every angle. "So many people think that this stone is lost. But it's been here. Giving Niffleheim it's power. In fact, I think I heard some idiot is guarding the fake one on some far away planet."

"Hela," Loki warned. She laughed and the stone suddenly pulsed and for half a second everyone could see an image of Clint laying on the ground. He looked like he was being eaten alive by something.

"Clint!" Wanda cried nanoseconds after the image vanished. Hela frowned, focusing on the spot.

"Hmm. Interesting."

"Stupid, wake up," a young familiar voice silently urged. Clint groaned, trying to keep himself asleep as his head hurt greatly. Rolling away from the voice, Clint very nearly swatted whoever it was in the face. The owner of the voice huffed at him. "Fine, be that way. See ya never."

"Wha'?" Clint blearily called, opening his eyes finally to turn and see who was there. Considering how tired he actually was, Clint's vision was thankfully clear and he was able to see a young boy standing at his beside. Looking around quickly, Clint noted the room was vaguely familiar. It seemed smaller than he last remembered but then it had been many years since he had last seen it. The seven sets of bunk beds lined the wall to Clint's right in perfect even spaces. Their tattered sheets and mattresses filled with boys of various ages, sleeping soundly. It took a moment more before Clint realized why this room looked familiar. This was the room he and his brother stayed in while at Waverly Home for Orphans. Perking up at that, Clint sat up fast and shockingly hit his head on the bunk above him. The bunk that Barney used to sleep in and that Clint could hardly reach unless standing on his mattress. He had always been shorter as a young boy. "Ow."

"Punk! Shut it!" the same voice from before hissed. Clint looked over at the young boy again and focused more on him. Slowly, almost agonizingly slowly, Clint's mind connected that this young boy was Charles Bernard Barton.

"Barney?" Clint questioned, confused. Barney, the boy's nickname as he never liked his first name, rushed his younger brother in an effort to cover his mouth. But for the first time that Clint ever remembered, the usually taller boy had to reach up in order to do so. Clint couldn't stop his frown from forming under his brother's sweaty hand as he tried to glare up at the bunk above him. He didn't think his memory was this bad with height wise. Could he have been taller than Barney? Maybe he slouched more so as to not get hurt?

"Shut it! Do you want Old Man Winters to catch us?" Barney snarled, looking around at the thankfully still sleeping forms of the other boys. Ted, a boy three beds down from the Barton brothers normally was a light sleeper, but on this particular night Ted had been sick and slept deeply. Clint shook his head even as his eyes flickered to Ted's sleeping form. Feeling Clint was done speaking, Barney released his mouth and moved a step away from the bed, avoiding the creaking board two boards away from their bed. "Hurry up."

Clint slipped out of his bed, the springs creaking loudly against the weight of his body. Both boys stilled. Clint's bed had never creaked before. He had always been underweight and so light that many claimed he was lighter than a feather. A few beds down, someone (likely the resident bully, Quin) shifted in their sleep. Like Clint's bed, the other boy's bed let out a squeal. The Barton boys sighed in relief. Most beds made noise as everyone shifted through the night so by now, everyone in the room had gotten used to sleeping through the sound.

"Where are we going?" Clint whispered as they slipped past their bed and down the narrow room to the door. Barney shrugged his shoulders, tensing in anger. Clint had always asked far too many questions for his liking but Clint couldn't really help being inquisitive. "What are we gonna do for food?" Barney again shrugged, his shoulders getting tenser as they moved and Clint kept talking. "Where will we stay if it rains? Or snows? What if they look for us?"

"Shut up!" Barney cried out in an harsh angered tone that wasn't a silent as it should have been. The boys froze and Clint was surprised to realize they had made it to the bedroom door of Old Man Winters. It was the last bedroom right before the stairs down to the main entry way and living room. In the silence that followed, Clint could hear the sounds of a man snorting himself awake. Something he didn't remember hearing last time his mind had gone through this moment. Could he have forgotten the horror of being chased down?

"Did you hear that?" Winters grumbled sleepily inside his room. He was a single man, Lady Winters having died a year after the Bartons had gotten put into this orphanage, so there shouldn't have been anyone in the room with him. But seconds later there was a soft growl. Coote, Winter's large Doberman Pinscher, tended to normally sleep in the room with the man since his wife's death. But Barney had planned this night well according to Clint's original memory. Coote had been antsy before bed, almost as if he knew something was going to happen, so Winters had locked the dog up outside so as to not deal with it. That was why they left this night, two days before the first snowfall of winter. Inside, the bed creaked as Winters apparently got up to check on the noise. The brothers traded a look. There was no way they could get caught so close. They'd never get a second chance to escape.

"Run!" Barney spat at Clint before taking off. Clint was a step behind his brother even as Coote began anxiously barking. Winters stormed to his door and flung it open as Barney and Clint rounded the corner of the hall to the stairs.

"ESCAPEES!" Winters roared. Coote slipped out the doorway before Winters could finish his word. The boys made it all the way down the stairs by the time Coote caught them. Being further behind, Coote launched himself onto Clint and began viciously attacking him. Tearing into his skin and flesh as if eating his bowl of dog food. Clint could hardly see past the blood in a matter of seconds.

"BARNEY! HELP!" Clint screamed in agony, trying his best to protect his head while focusing his gaze on his brother. Barney paused to turn and look at him. There was a quick second of surprise that morphed to sadness and horror before Barney shook his head no and turned back around to the door. "BARNEY!"

Barney made it a few more steps to the door before Winters suddenly appeared faster than either boy anticipated. He reached out his long adult arm and snatched Barney's shirt collar and a small bit of Barney's currently too long hair. Barney let out a horrified screech as Winters yanked him off his feet and pulled him away from the door. In the same movement, Winters turned to look back at Coote and Clint, still fighting on the end of the stairs. The man clicked his tongue and a second later, Coote was off Clint and standing beside Winters. His muzzle dripped with Clint's blood and bits of skin dangled, stuck in his teeth. Winter reached his free hand down to pat Coote's head as he surveyed the damage done to Clint.

"Barn..." Clint weakly called, trying to lift an arm that only seemed to move from half of his upper arm. The rest of his arm hung on loosely from some type of muscle or tendon. Barney instantly looked green. Clint glanced at the small stump before focusing on his fingers and tried to move them. None of them even twitched. For a moment, time seemed to still as Clint took in his eviscerated arm. He had seen enough death and body damage in his life to know that this injury was not going to heel in time. In fact, if Winters didn't call for an ambulance in the next second, Clint doubted he'd survive. And to think, this was only one arm. Coote had done a number to his other arm, back and legs. It was a miracle that Clint was still conscious at this point, never mind even being alive. Winters scoffed and looked back down at Coote with a disappointed look.

"Just finish the job," Winters snarled before walking off with Barney still dangling by his shirt and hair. Clint couldn't even feel Coote resuming his attack. All the archer's focus was on the retreating form of the old guardian and his brother.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this," Clint sobbed, sounding far stronger than before even though Coote was beginning to eat him alive. Clint's vision slowly started to tunnel in. "We escaped! Barney... We escaped! We made it..."

As Clint slowly started to drift off into what one could only assume was death, he became lost in his mind. If he died on this night, then how did he have memories past this moment? How did he remember escaping and joining Carson's Traveling Wonders? Hadn't he become the Amazing Hawkeye? Didn't he meet Phil Coulson? Join S.H.I.E.L.D? Heck, what about the Avengers?

"WAKE UP, CLINTON!" an unfamiliar voice ordered. For half a second, Clint's vision completely cleared and he caught sight of Loki and Wanda starting off at Hela and Fenris just outside the cave he had hidden in seemingly forever ago. But then Clint found himself back in the memory of getting eaten by Coote and he passed away, again.

A day late... Sorry. Spent most of the morning hanging around the house with my husband and Darius before we left for a concert. Totally forgot it was Friday. Woops.

Darius currently is 'suffering' a cold or something. Has a slight fever and his nose is draining snot pretty badly. But as I type he his walking all around the room while pushing a monster truck around; doing jumps, backflips, wheelies and whatever else he want to claim the toy is doing. Glad he isn't too bad but still worry some. Darius probably caught this as he just started Daycare. He had fun. First day he just kinda headed off to play and barely looked back as we left. I guess he thought it'd be like ELC, I'd return in a few hours. He was there from 8 am to about 530 pm. Husband had to work so I spent most of the day unpacking and crying. The second day, he was leaning on our legs, totally uninterested in going in. Actually fought us a bit. But then they mentioned a pony was coming to visit and he looked sort of interested. It wasn't until the worker suggested holding Darius at the window to wave goodbye that we were able to escape. In the end he had a great day. After that headed to a baseball game that ended with a fireworks display.

No reviews, favorites or follows. But thank you to all who are still reading on.