Hel's POV
Hel was sitting on her throne, just being her usual self and ruling the underworld.
Before her throne was a queue of dead souls, waiting to be assigned to their respective afterlife.
First in line was a middle-aged woman.
Hel's black eyes bored themselves into the soul in front of her.
Hmm … extreme vanity, violent outbursts of anger, abuse of servants and slaves, adultery. Died of dysentery. Gross.
"Náströnd¹. Give her to Níðhöggr² as a chew toy."
Two servants dragged the screaming, flailing soul away.
Hel grimaced in scorn at the cries for mercy – mercy! For that scum! Who would praise her incorruptible and fair judgement, if she let evildoers get away with their crimes, just because they begged for mercy?
"Next", she ordered.
A man stepped forward.
Pathological liar, murderer, perjurer. Fell from his horse and broke his neck. That's hilarious.
"Same as the last."
Same reaction as the woman before him.
"Next."
An old man.
Womaniser, but not married. Guilty of avarice. Died of old age.
"Niflheimr. He shall shovel the pathways."
The old man let the servants take him away, muttering something that sounded like "was nice, while it lasted".
"Next."
A little girl.
Guiltless. Died of hypothermia. Poor little thing.
Hel's expression softened and the dead side of her face turned lively and fair, both to accommodate the innocent soul in front of her and because her face changed condition according to mood. Cute things made her happy and children were darn cute. Most of them anyway.
"Oh my Norns, you're so adorable!", Hel cooed and the child smiled shyly. "To Helheimr with you. There are lots of children for you to play with."
"Will I be punished?", the girl asked frightfully.
Hel smiled gently: "Of course not. For what would I punish you? You have done nothing wrong."
"Can Mama come too?", the child asked and stepped to the side to reveal the woman behind her.
Hel read the woman's soul and found her to be blameless as well.
The queen smiled: "She can."
Mother and child cried with joy and she picked her daughter up, as another servant led them away to a more pleasant life than their old one had been.
The underworld wasn't as unpleasant as everyone thought it was. The living spoke of horrible torments, but why would Hel let the innocents be tortured?
She took a moment to smile after the two, before turned back to- oh. Apparently those were all the souls for the day.
Hel just shrugged and resumed her usual blank expression. She would enjoy a few minutes of quiet, before leaving to do her paperwork.
Or not.
Because right that moment her manservant Ganglati³ entered the throne room, unusually light-footed.
After the old man had caught his breath, he addressed Hel: "Your Majesty, Queen of the Underworld, Ruler of Helheimr and Niflheimr, Lokidóttir-"
"What do you want, Ganglati?", Hel groaned in annoyance. She really wished they would just call her by her name instead of rattling down all those titles.
"A very special guest has arrived!", the old servant announced excitedly.
The queen was not impressed. "A 'very special guest', huh? Well, who is the unlucky soul?"
"It's Baldr Óðinnson!"
Hel's black eyes widened. Then she smirked wickedly.
Baldr. Óðinn's most beloved son. The fairest of the Æsir.
She had already been waiting for him; her tables were laid, the mead brewed.
"Hm, he took his time, didn't he?"
.
Baldr's POV
Where was he?
What had happened?
The last thing he had felt was this pain in his chest, where the mistletoe dart had pierced him.
Strangely enough it hadn't hurt as much as he had suspected.
No, what had hurt him more was what he had seen last – how Loki had tricked Höðr – his blind, darker, yet beloved twin – into shooting him. Oh poor Höðr, he had to be so heartbroken! Knowing that he had killed his brother …
Ah. Yes.
That was it.
He was dead.
And this had to be the entrance to the underworld.
Finally! No more pressure, no more getting stuff thrown my way … oh Norns, why am I like this?!
Now he just had to find the gate. A bit of a challenge in this fog.
Before he knew it, there was an obsidian bridge with a golden roof. Where had that come from?
More so, there was something inviting and mesmerising about this bridge. It called to him.
Come, it seemed to whisper to him. Cross me. Go to the afterlife. Enter the place, where you will be beyond all pain.
He chose to follow the call.
As he was in the middle of the bridge, he encountered a Jötunn, who was sitting on a watch tower. When she saw him, she jumped off her seat and greeted him briskly: "Welcome, Baldr Óðinnson. I am Móðguðr⁴, the gatekeeper of the underworld. Her Majesty, our venerated queen, is already awaiting you."
She was? Huh.
This was exactly what Loki had told him, a night before he had murdered him.
Baldr smiled: "Well, I better hurry, then. It would be rude to keep the queen waiting, wouldn't it?"
"That it would", the Jötunn agreed, unsmiling.
Suddenly a new voice made them both jump.
"Baldr? Where are you? Wait for me! Don't leave me here! I can't see anything in this fog!"
His blue eyes widened.
Nanna?! Oh no! When had she – okay, scratch that, he had to get away!
He stood on his tiptoes to whisper to the giantess: "I beg you, Madam, give me directions, quick!"
Her colourless eyes twinkled in amusement, though she still didn't smile.
"When you arrive at the other end of the bridge, go to the left, until you arrive at an iron gate. From there, just follow the black path, but be careful not to slip. Inside the castle are signs and layout plans, so you should find your way to the audience hall easily", she whispered back.
He thanked her and made haste to follow her directions.
.
Hel's POV
Hel picked up her scythe and made her way to the audience hall to receive her new special subject.
The bells tied to her scythe jingled as she walked.
A long time ago, her father had given them to her, to remember her daddy by. Lucky charms he had called them. She still cherished them dearly, that was why she had tied them to her scythe in the first place: so she could take them with her, wherever she went. They were a reminder of happier times, times before the Æsir had come, had torn her and her brothers away from their mother, had bound Fenrir and thrown Jörmungandr into the sea that surrounded Midgardr and banished her to Niflheimr.
That and they were a nice change from the constant howling of the wind and wolves and the faint whispers of the dead. Their jingling was comforting (and alerted dead souls, that she was near).
She entered the audience hall to receive this indeed "very special guest", sat on her high throne, placed the scythe on her lap and waited for the dead Ása to arrive.
.
Baldr's POV
Baldr had almost got lost in the many crooked corridors, but he had somehow managed to find the way in the end.
Eventually he found himself in a huge hall, presumably the throne room.
It was rather dark in here. The only light sources were tiny, pale blue lights, that floated through the hall like fireflies. Every time they neared the walls, their dim light would make fluorescing minerals glow.
A thick ground mist was covering the ground up to Baldr's knees, but everything above that level was perfectly visible.
As he looked around, he saw that he was standing in front of a golden throne. It was currently vacant, but he could tell, that normally the Mistress of the Dead herself sat on it.
What didn't escape Baldr, was how the tiny lights gradually orbited closer to him. Maybe they were attracted to his own glow, like moths to a flame.
This place had a foreign kind of beauty to it. It was nothing like the descriptions of Helheimr he had heard in life (well, except for the darkness and mist).
As he was standing there, taking in the ambience and letting the tiny light balls circle around him, he heard slow steps approaching the room, until from a side entrance an old lady emerged and came up to him.
"Baldr Óðinnson?", she inquired.
"That's me", he confirmed.
"Good", the woman said. "Welcome to Éljúðnir⁵, the high castle and seat of Her Majesty, the queen. I am Ganglöt⁶. My mistress is expecting you in the audience hall. Follow me."
He obeyed and followed the old maid.
All the while, he tried to figure out what she was. She wasn't an Asýnja, nor was she a Jötunn. She was clearly not a Light Alf or a Vana and, if the appearance of Iðunn was anything to go by, not a Dark Alf either. She didn't even look like any of the Midgardians he had ever encountered. Maybe an Elemental? But then the question would be what she embodied.
His train of thought was put to an end, when he and the old maidservant arrived in front of a giant fluorescing green door.
And suddenly it came back to his mind, that he was about to meet Hel Lokisdóttir – the daughter of his murderer.
Baldr took a deep breath to compose himself.
Ganglöt seemed to notice. "Are you nervous, young man?"
He nodded awkwardly.
She lifted her head to give him a small smile. "If you're remotely as virtuous as people say, you have nothing to fear", she assured him.
Then she tapped the threshold with her walking cane and Baldr screamed in terror, when the ground between the two and the door opened up to reveal a pitfall.
"What is this?!", he gasped out, as he recoiled from the pit.
"Eh, just one of the little tricks her Majesty has installed", the old lady explained.
"Little tricks?"
"Aye. And now we need to walk over the chasm."
The bright god gawked at her. "Excuse you?! That chasm is too wide for-"
But the maid only giggled softly: "Don't wreck your pretty head, young one. Watch."
Then she stepped forward – into the empty.
And Ganglöt walked. Over the void of the pit. As if it was solid ground.
His eyes grew even bigger. "What … how …?"
"Come", the old woman smiled and stretched out her hand to him. "There is nothing to be afraid of. I will hold your hand."
Baldr gulped and took the offered hand.
Ganglöt's hand was as could be expected of an old woman's hand, but at the same time it felt really strange; as if someone had warmed up a piece of wood, softened it and given it a pulse.
"Come", she repeated. "The queen doesn't like waiting that much."
"Right", he mumbled and took a few deep breaths.
Pull yourself together, Baldr scolded himself. Stop being such a wuss!
He closed his eyes and stepped into the void.
But when it didn't feel like he was falling, he opened them again – only to find, that he (just like Ganglöt) was standing in the air, right above the chasm.
"Huh", he said. "Okaayyy …"
He let the old woman bring him to the other side (to top it off, she proceeded to hum "Walking In The Air" as she did so) and sighed in relief, when he stood on actual solid ground again and the chasm closed behind them.
"What was that?!", he desired to know.
The maid shrugged: "Ask Her Majesty. Now compose yourself and straighten your posture, young man. You don't want to face queen Hel with that expression, do you?"
.
Hel's POV
When the door finally opened and her handmaid Ganglöt brought the dead Ása in, Hel was startled.
What everyone had told her, it really was true.
There were no words to describe just how beautiful the person in front of her was.
His face was boyish, almost feminine, and very pale. His hair was almost white and hung from his shoulders in two thick braids, in addition to the open hair in the back. He had the cutest little nose and big, sky blue eyes with long lashes. Despite him being dead, there was a faint blush on his cheeks (she wanted to pinch them), his lips were rosy and he was shining!
His eyes held a whole range of emotions: nervousness, anxiety and an undefinable sadness, but also warmth, softness and curiosity.
But this wasn't the time to get distracted.
Hel mustered a small smile and stood up to greet him.
"You must be Baldr Óðinnson", she addressed him. "Welcome to my humble abode. I have already been waiting for you."
.
Baldr's POV
So this was Hel?
For a few seconds he was speechless.
The queen of the eponymous world and of Niflheimr was certainly a sight to behold.
A bizarre sight; she was the strangest thing Baldr had ever seen.
It started with her hair. It was platinum blond on her right side, pitch black on the left.
She was wan, probably from the lack of sunlight. And parts of her face were black and withered, like a rotting corpse.
He was struck by pity. Was it painful for her to be half dead? And if not, how much did it bother her? And did this really make her ugly, like everyone said?
Strange, yes.
Ugly? Hmm … no, not really. Not in Baldr's opinion.
The way she united life and death in her person gave her a strange kind of beauty.
And when he approached her, his glow illuminated her enough for him to see more.
She was thin and a head taller than himself.
Her right cheek was as rosy as any maiden's.
Her night blue dress spoke of her wealth and power⁷ and she was wearing a moonstone necklace.
Her profound black eyes, which at first had looked startled (probably by his appearance, Baldr was used to it), were now looking at him with mild interest and curiosity, which for some reason was really cute and endearing to him.
I must have a weird taste in what I find cute, he thought.
Hold on – where were his manners?! He had just walked up to her without bowing or even saying hello and now was staring at the queen of the underworld, like a total idiot!
Time to fix that!
.
Hel's POV
Hel could tell, that the other was just as startled by her looks as she was by his. Of course everyone was, she was used to it, but he didn't seem to be as disgusted as most other people were.
In fact, he seemed fascinated.
How curious.
Then he blinked and seemed to remember, that he was standing in front of his new sovereign.
He blushed bright scarlet and hastily knelt before her.
"Y-yes, I am indeed Baldr", he responded to her own greeting. "And you are, without a doubt, Queen Hel. It's such a pleasure to finally meet you!"
Now it was her turn to blink. "A pleasure to finally meet me", she echoed blankly.
He smiled up at her and nodded – primordial cow, he actually meant that!
"Your father has told me so much about you", Baldr continued. "Oh, speaking of him!"
He rummaged through the leather bags he was wearing around his belt, until he found something – a small stone plate.
"Your father snuck this note into my bag. I do believe it's for you?"
Hel took the stone plate and read the content:
"To my beautiful little girl,
the best birthday present ever to the best daughter ever. A ray of light for your realm of darkness. Happy birthday, Hel!
Love you lots, sweetie. Your dad.
PS: Sigyn says hi."
She sighed in exasperation and shook her head. That was so typical for her father …
Then again, who was she to complain?
Not only was this beautiful creature in her hands now, his death surely caused his father and all the Æsir great grief. The soul of Óðinn's beloved son was the best birthday present indeed.
Now, what to do?
Should she take her grudge on the Allfather out on his son?
No.
Her resentment towards Óðinn would not cloud her judgement.
"Look me in the eyes", she ordered and he did so.
He squirmed a little under her gaze, as her eyes bored into his soul and read him.
Hmm … no bad deeds, no condemning character traits. What a pure and adorable cinnamon roll! But what is that … oh! Oh no! What a mess!
Baldr's POV
Baldr was getting increasingly unsettled by the blank expression on Hel's face.
He was pretty sure, that he had never seen such a blank face in his life. Her big black eyes were like two voids. It reminded him a little of the owls he had sometimes seen, when he had walked in the forests in Asgard. Oh yes, that was the word: owlish. Her stare was owlish.
"Are you alright?", he asked worriedly.
Hel tilted her head. Her face was still blank, but at least she now seemed to snap out of her trance.
Then, finally she opened her mouth to speak again.
"Nope."
"S-sorry?"
"The son of the jerk, who banished me down here, can't be this cute. It just doesn't make any sense", she … uh, clarified?
"I-I'm sorry!", Baldr stammered and blushed a deep red.
He didn't know how to deal with this.
Baldr was an Ása, he was used to being around people, who were brutally frank and outspoken.
But Hel seemed to be a different kind of blunt.
Though he had been called cute before, it had never been like this. Hel had said that sentence with a completely straight face, without the faintest blush and in the most no-nonsense tone ever – as if it was a matter of fact. And that startled him somehow.
What startled him even more, was when a third person stumbled into the room.
Baldr almost cringed at how dishevelled Nanna was looking (and at the fact, that she was now here and there was a high chance that she would make him and/or Hel insanely uncomfortable).
"Oh, finally, I found the right room!", she gasped. "The gatekeeper gave me wrong directions – hi, Baldr – so orientating myself was a nightmare, then I almost fell into a pit and this old lady showed up and brought me here!"
She pointed at Ganglöt, who was lingering in the background.
The light god paid close attention to Hel's reaction. Her expression didn't change at all, but Baldr could have sworn, that the left side of her face just had become slightly more decayed.
Still her overall demeanour stayed the same.
"Seems like Móðguðr played a trick on you. You have to forgive her. My gatekeeper has the tendency to give wrong directions to people she doesn't like", she told Nanna.
"Eh, whatever", the other goddess muttered, "I'm here now. Sooo … uhhh …"
Whatever she had been about to say died, when she got a good look at Hel. Baldr could feel the horror and disgust radiating from his former wife.
Obviously Hel noticed it too, because she brushed her black hair forward to conceal the left side of her face. Somehow that really bothered Baldr; the queen shouldn't have to cover half of her face, just because others couldn't stand it.
Nanna on the other hand seemed to have it easier now. "You're queen Hel, right?"
"No, I'm just your average Jötunn woman with a half decayed body, who has power over the dead and the entirety of Niflheimr and can read dead souls like open books", Hel deadpanned.
For some reason Baldr couldn't help but burst into giggles. He quickly pulled himself together, but the fact that he had laughed at the queen's comment at all seemed to be enough to tick Nanna off.
"Good to see that you're having fun!", she hissed.
Her husband coughed and mumbled an awkward apology.
"Now, now", Hel spoke up. "Let's not get into an argument. Welcome to my realm, Nanna Nepsdóttir. Aren't you going to at least say hello to your new sovereign? Because now that you're dead, you're my subject – whether you like it or not."
"Oh … right. Sorry", the dead goddess mumbled, bowed and gave a polite, but cool greeting.
"Better", the queen nodded. "Now, let me see …"
.
Hel's POV
Hel couldn't claim to be surprised by what she saw, when she read Nanna's soul.
This time she said it out loud, if only to expose her.
"Ah. Cynical, self-esteem issues, guilty of adultery with … Hermodr? Isn't that Baldr's bro-"
"Oh no, what a shock, I couldn't possibly have seen this coming!", Baldr deadpanned.
Nanna stared at her former husband in horror. "You knew? All this time you-?!"
"Nanna, I'm neither naïve nor stupid. Yes, I knew."
"Then why did you never say anything?!"
"Because I-"
Hel cleared her throat: "You two, this isn't couple therapy and I'm not a marriage counsellor."
The two blinked and apologised sheepishly.
"It's forgiven", she accepted it. "But please settle your marital issues between yourselves. I may be Loki's daughter, but that doesn't mean, that I have his sense of humour. I do not revel in the misery of others. It would be unbecoming of a queen like myself."
The dead couple nodded.
"Anyway, Nanna, I think you know, that adultery is a crime, no matter what."
"Yes, I do", the dead Asýnja sighed. "So, what will it be? A snake pit? Being chewed on by a dragon, or whatever punishment people like me get around here?"
"That is indeed the standard punishment for adulterers", Hel confirmed.
"NO!", Baldr screamed and fell on his knees. "Please, don't do this to her!", he pleaded. "I beg you! My wife doesn't deserve such a harsh punishment! She only-"
"Let me finish", Hel cut him off and turned back to Nanna. "What I was going to say, before Baldr interrupted me, was that this is the standard punishment for adulterers, who actually deserve it. My judgement is fair and just. As I said before, dead souls are open books to me. I know what kind of life you two led, what tragedy your marriage really was and why you did what you did. And that, Nepsdóttir, is your saving grace."
"So, what will it be instead?", Nanna asked nervously.
Hel considered for a moment, before answering. "I think shovelling the snow off the paths outside would be appropriate. A bit of manual labour and cool, fresh air never hurt anyone."
"I accept my punishment."
"Good. Servants, take her into my garden and give her a snow shovel. The pathways out there really need to be cleared."
Her ghostly servants were about to lead the goddess away, when Hel remembered something:
"Oh, one more thing, Nanna."
"Yes?"
"Now that you two are dead, Baldr is your husband no more. Wedding vows do not transcend death, contrary to the assumption of the living, that they do."
The daughter of Loki wasn't surprised to see relief run over the other woman's face, before she nodded in acknowledgement. Then she was led away.
.
Baldr's POV
"They won't hurt her, right?", the Bright One asked the Mistress of the Dead in concern.
"Unless she does something to warrant it, no", she replied, to his relief.
Then she told him to follow her and he did so.
She guided him through dark halls, illuminated only by his glow. No word was spoken, until Hel stopped in front of a door, opened it and motioned for Baldr to go inside.
As the dead god glanced around the room, he was stunned by the the splendour, visible even in the dim light. It was elaborately furnished, with jewels embedded in walls and furniture.
Seemed like Hel acted on the maxim "If you've got it, flaunt it".
"Wow", he breathed. His house in Asgard, Breiðablik⁸, hadn't quite been as luxurious (even though compared to the other houses in Asgard it was the most splendid), mostly because showing off wasn't Baldr's thing.
"I'm glad you like it", Hel stated. "This is actually one of my own spare bedrooms, but there have been complications, while preparing your rooms, so for now you will be staying here. Your things will be brought to you shortly. In the meantime, you can make yourself comfortable."
Baldr blushed in embarrassment. "I … I don't think I'm deserving of such honours."
Hel lifted an eyebrow. "What, are you questioning my sound judgement?"
The blush was immediately replaced by pallor. "No! Of course not!"
"That's what I thought", she said and he could have sworn, that there was a hint of amusement in her otherwise still completely toneless voice. It didn't show on her face either, but Baldr was pretty sure, that she was enjoying herself at his cost.
With a sigh, he sat on the bed. It was a king-sized bed and it seemed really comfortable.
Suddenly exhaustion set in with a vengeance and he felt really tired. Why was he tired? He always had assumed, that dead people didn't need to sleep – after all, wasn't death already an everlasting sleep? Oh well, another afterlife lesson learned.
Hel seemed to sense his fatigue, for she said: "You must be exhausted. After all, you travelled all the way down Yggdrasil. That's not exactly a stroll in the park. So lie down and sleep a little. A servant will come and wake you up, when dinner is ready."
He stood up once more and bowed. "Thank you, your Majesty."
"No need for formalities. Just Hel will do", she replied. "I'm more than just the queen of Niflheimr. I founded a whole kingdom and named it after myself. I think that expresses my power more than my queenly title does."
Baldr couldn't have argued with that, even if he had wanted to.
Hel left the room and closed the door, leaving the dead god alone.
The Bright One sat back down and contemplated his new situation.
Hmm … Hel doesn't seem so bad. Neither the place, nor the person. The Mistress of the Dead seems to be a fair ruler. And of course, no one throwing stuff at me is always nice … I think I'm going to like it here.
He lay down and found the bed just as warm and comfy as his old one in Asgardr.
Baldr fell asleep within seconds.
1) Náströnd: "Corpse Shore", the place of Helheimr, where oath-breakers, adulterers and murderers are punished.
2) Níðhöggr: "Malice Striker/Hateful Striker", a serpentine dragon living and gnawing at the roots of Yggdrasil (the cosmic World Tree), who also chews on the corpses of the inhabitants of Náströnd.
3) Ganglati: "Lazy-Step", Hel's personal manservant.
4) Móðguðr: "Ferocious Battler", the guardian of Gjallarbrú, the bridge across the underworld river Gjöll.
5) Éljúðnir: depending on the translation either "Misery", or "Sprayed With Blizzards/Damp With Sleet" (personally I tend more towards "misery"), Hel's castle. It's described as being enormous, having really high walls and large gates.
6) Ganglöt: "Slow-Step", Hel's handmaid.
7) Dark dyes for clothing were quite expensive, especially black-blue dyes (raven black). Most Norse societies only had access to them via trade (with the Byzantine Empire, for example). So really dark or colourful clothing was a status symbol, since it was only available to the wealthy.
8) Breiðablik: "Broad Gleam". According to Snorri Sturluson's Prose Edda, it was the fairest hall in Asgard.