PART ONE: THE DECIMATION
The Bargain
"He has robbed me."
She paced the length of the throne-room, her black-and-green cape brushing eerily across the cracked steps of an obsidian throne. Beside it slumbered a giant black wolf, high as a bilgesnipe at the shoulder; one of its eyes, open just slightly as it was in its sleep, shone a lurid emerald green.
"Their souls are locked away where I cannot reach them. Neither living, nor dead; neither mine, nor of the cursed realm of the sun." She turned, her cape sweeping after her, and held up a clawed fist, her black nails like daggers. "All those who would be my subjects! Snatched from my hands! Who is this usurper, this—this blasphemer? Claiming to be a god? Let him prove it!"
She turned away, arms spread wide and chin upturned to the heavens. "Oh, that he were sent to me. That he met me on my terms. I'd see him pay his debt, tenfold, in pain."
Her power flickered out from her, black tendrils of decay and death, scorching the walls and causing the ground to tremble. The wolf stirred in its sleep, but did not wake.
The listener at the foot of the steps made no move, but his green eyes flicked upwards, and the tiniest, wicked smirk flitted across his lips.
Good. She hated him as much as he.
"But no." She stood as a statue, head bent, as she gazed upon her throne. "Tethered I am to this realm, and tethered I remain." She turned and sank into the throne, one knee over the other, holding her head high though she seemed worn and ancient. "Yours is a fool's errand. I have no aid to offer you."
"But you do." His voice was smooth and clear, the most persuasive of all his powers, and the gold and green hem of his robes rippled as he climbed one step toward her throne. "Muster your power. Send me back." He lowered his head slightly, looking up from under thin, dark eyebrows. "You know what I'll do in return."
She scoffed and stroked the fur of the wolf. "I doubt you'll uphold the bargain, Silvertongue."
His eyes betrayed him, just for a moment, as they avoided her gaze.
"You're a rogue and a traitor." As Fenris woke and stretched his foul-smelling jaws, Hela scratched her dread wolf under the chin. "You betrayed him, after all."
"If you cannot believe my charity, Mother, then trust at least my wrath." The alluring tone slipped away, and all that remained was raw anger and grief. "I will make him pay."
Loki bent his head, his closed fist clasped to his chest.
"I made a promise."
A/N: Credits to DKettchen (on tumblr/deviantart) for Hela's relation to Loki, Raina for being my proofreader and fact-checker, and Tessera of the Order for his help as picker of section names and judge of coolness factor. More author's notes at the end of Part One.
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