Author's note: Phew! Long chapter is long. I'm glad I was able to post it today, because I'll be on hiatus in November to dedicate my writing time to my NaNoWriMo project.

Once again, many thanks to my wonderful reviewers! By the way, it's been brought to my attention that some people might be reluctant to review because they think they can't write good, deep reviews. Well, you don't have to worry about that, at least as far as I'm concerned. Even short reviews such as "I like it!" never fail to bring a delighted smile to my face. Just knowing that someone enjoyed my stories makes me really happy.


CHAPTER 7 –

The Three Monsters

Hel couldn't help feeling like a rat as she scurried through the colossal hallways of Valhalla, keeping to the shadows and close to the wall. Whenever she heard anyone approaching, she would disappear into a corner and wait until they were gone, her heartbeat sounding so loud in her ears that she was sure it would give her away. Fortunately, no one seemed to be aware of her presence at all.

This was turning out to be a fruitless search. So far, she had seen no blonde woman who looked exceptionally beautiful. The women who kept coming and going past Hel, judging by their modest clothing, were probably Lord Odin's servants. She could also smell a very faint, but delicious, scent of food, meaning the kitchen shouldn't be too far away. In other words, Hel was nowhere near where she was supposed to be; she was probably on the wrong floor altogether. Surely the goddess of love and beauty wouldn't be loitering around the servants' workplace!

She peeked into the next open chamber to confirm her suspicions. It looked like some sort of laundry. It was quite dark and Hel couldn't see very well at the best of the times, but with the dim light from the hallway, she was able to make out a few dirty, crumpled clothes lying on the floor only a few feet from the entrance. The apparent untidiness of this chamber was completely at odds with the rest of Valhalla – or what little of it Hel had seen so far.

To make up for the wasted time, Hel thought she might as well borrow something that could be of use to her somehow. One of the pieces had caught her attention; she picked it up and brought it to the light of the hallway to inspect it. It seemed to be a dark blue, rather ragged travelling cloak. It was a little oversized for Hel, but it would do nicely enough, so she put it on.

Actually, the fact that it was oversized might serve as an advantage; this way, the hood would better conceal her face, especially if she kept her head lowered. After all, Hel was fully aware of her grotesque appearance and didn't want to alarm the beautiful goddess with it. Tugging the hood as far over her head as possible, she left the laundry and proceeded to look for the way upstairs, where the gods should be.

She found it soon enough, and then almost wished she hadn't. As soon as her foot touched the floor up the stairs, there was a tremendous change in the atmosphere. For one thing, it was quite warm, in a good way, as opposed to the eerie cold of the level below; it was like the interior of a house warmed up by a fire on a chilly autumn night. It would have made Valhalla feel like a very cosy place, if it weren't for the sheer pressure of magic coming from everywhere, ten times stronger than outside and downstairs, or the prickling feeling of being scrutinised.

She froze and tried to calm down her breathing, her heart hammering in her chest all of a sudden, and squinted her eyes to see what was ahead of her in this new hallway. Unlike the hallways below, this one was brightly lit with torches and light runes, so if there was anyone here, Hel should be able to see them, even if only as a mildly blurry figure. She saw nothing, however, nor did she feel any presence nearby. She couldn't decide whether she should be relieved or unsettled.

Now that there were no shadows for her to hide in, all that was left to do was brave into the hallway and hope she would soon find the goddess Freyja. Feeling as exposed and vulnerable as though she were walking in Ironwood in the nude, Hel tugged at her hood again and kept her head lowered, though also a sharp eye on her surroundings, her steps brisk and silent.

It wasn't long before she heard voices echoing in the hallway. One voice was exceedingly loud and high-pitched and sounded a little upset. The other was a male voice, much softer and calmer, though it carried a hint of rigid authority. The couple seemed to be having a bit of an argument. Feeling it would be best to stay out of their way, Hel plunged into the hallway to her left and got ready to flatten herself against the wall if they came much closer.

As the voices got louder, Hel held her breath in tense anticipation. Could these two be the actual gods? More to the point, could they be Lord Odin and Lady Freyja themselves? Hel had no idea if any other gods dwelt in this palace. The prospect of meeting the goddess Freyja had been daunting enough, but meeting the supreme king of the gods face-to-face... Hel wasn't ready for this at all. What if they found her here? Would they get mad at the intruder? Would they summon her father? Would they throw at her a curse even worse than the one that already afflicted her, or would they lock her up in a cold, filthy dungeon with nothing but mouldy bread crust and rancid water to eat and drink, or—

A sudden, vicious hiss behind her made Hel jump in fright and she had to choke down a yelp. Whirling around, she saw a very large, grey cat glaring at her with narrowed eyes, its ears flattened back against its head and its mouth hanging open in a threatening way. Hel stepped back, unnerved by how close it was to her feet. She had been so focused on the two approaching gods that she hadn't even noticed the cat's presence at all.

The cat looked up and suddenly relaxed, its features softening, though it still kept a trained eye on Hel.

"Well, well, well, what have we here?" said a voice, deep and smooth. Hel froze. "It seems your cat has found a little mouse."

Steeling herself, Hel slowly turned around, taking care not to raise her head too much so as to keep the hood in place. Two very tall figures stood before her, one dressed in splendorous white and golden robes and the other in a glittering lilac dress. Hel dared raise her head a little more for a moment in order to catch a glimpse of their faces. She could see that the robed man had very long, white hair that went all the way down to his feet, which Hel found quite unusual, but it was the woman next to him who held Hel's attention. Hel didn't allow her gaze to linger on her, but she could see that this woman was not only blonde, but also the most beautiful woman Hel had ever seen – more so than Hel's mother, even. Without a doubt, this was the goddess Freyja.

"Is this a servant?" the woman asked. "Lord Odin, do you have children working for you, now?"

"Not in Valhalla," said the man.

How surreal... It finally dawned on Hel that she really was in the presence of two gods, one of them none other than the Allfather himself, and that she was now supposed to justify her intrusion.

Taking a deep breath to calm down and think, Hel carefully knelt down, murmuring a reverent "My Lord". Neither of her parents had ever seen it fit to teach her the proper etiquette when in the presence of a god, let along a king god, but she was sure this course of action was close enough. As an afterthought, she added, "My Lady," and then bowed deeply. This wasn't entirely out of respect; it gave her a good excuse to hide her face, at least for the moment. "I am not a servant. I came from far away, from Jotunheim, to beg for your help."

"A giant?" Hel could hear the sneer in the goddess' voice. This was no surprise – both her parents had told her that giants were generally scorned and despised by the gods – but it still stung a little. "Your kind is not welcome here, little girl," Freyja went on. "How dare you set foot in Valhalla? How did you even make it past the gate to Asgard? Heimdall must be losing his touch..."

"Or maybe we giants are smarter than you give us credit for," retorted Hel. Then, she remembered who she was talking to and berated herself for her impudence. She would get no sympathy from the gods by being cheeky.

"Now, now, my dear," said Odin to his fuming companion. "No need to get yourself worked up about it. For my part, I must say I am impressed. For a little girl, giant or not, to come all the way from Jotunheim and infiltrate Valhalla, she must be very brave, clever, and resilient – not to mention desperate. It is only fair that we should at least listen to her plight."

Freyja huffed, but dared not contradict her sovereign.

"Well, little girl?" Odin prompted, his voice gentle.

"My Lord," began Hel, slowly, as she deliberated her words, "since I was born, I have been victim of a curse. A... deforming curse."

"I see," said Odin patiently. "I assume that is why you are hiding under that cloak?"

"Yes, my Lord," said Hel.

A brief pause, and then she slowly brought her right hand up to the brim of the hood and pulled it back, her face an impassive mask. As expected, the goddess gasped and covered her mouth, an expression of shock and disgust marring her otherwise fair features. Odin, on the other hand, only narrowed his eyes slightly, as if mildly intrigued.

Hel focused her gaze on him, both because his reaction was unusual and less hurtful and because she had yet to take a good look at him. He wasn't at all what she had expected. One would have thought that the King of the Gods and god of war would look and act more like a warrior, be brawny and rude. She was, therefore, surprised to see that he was a very slender man, almost effeminately so, with an intellectual air and soft features. Despite his white hair, he looked like a very young man, barely an adult. All in all, he looked more like a young sorcerer than a battle-worn warrior.

While watching Odin, Hel caught a glimpse of Freyja touching her nose as if trying to cover it in a discreet way, looking slightly sick.

"As you can see," whispered Hel, averting her gaze in shame, "half of my body is rotting away because of this curse."

"Who threw this curse at you?" Odin asked.

"I don't know. Nobody, I think. I was just born this way." Hel met his gaze once more. "Please, my Lord, my Lady, I beg of you! If there is anything you can do to help me..."

"I'm sorry," said Freyja, not looking sorry at all. "Even if we wanted to help you, and we don't, there's nothing we can do. If no one threw a curse at you, there isn't a counter-curse. This is probably just a birth defect." She turned her back on Hel and began to walk away. Meanwhile, Odin was staring unseeingly at the wall, apparently bored out of his mind.

"Well, you heard her," he told Hel. "You had better leave before I'm forced to have you kicked out."

Hel felt a surge of anger at the gods' callousness. Throwing all caution and respectful manners out of the proverbial window, she hissed, "You're just saying that because you don't care for giants like me! If this is not a curse, it should be even easier for you to take care of it! You, Lady Freyja, are the goddess of beauty – you can bring beauty to anyone! And you, Lord Odin, you're supposed to be the most powerful being in all of the nine worlds! I don't believe for a second that you are incapable of doing something as simple as this!"

Freyja paused for a moment and looked back, with a sickly sweet smile, just to say, "Well, I did just say that we don't want to help you. Even if there is a way to help you, we are not willing to go through all that trouble just for a rude little giant."

"All right, I get it, you hate giants!" said Hel, stepping forwards. "But if you won't do it for me, at least do it for your beloved Loki!"

That made both Freyja and Odin stop short and look back at her.

"What does any of this have to do with Loki?" asked Freyja warily.

Hel hesitated. She hadn't really been thinking straight when she'd dragged her father into this, and even now she wasn't sure it was such a wise idea. For some reason, Loki had always kept his giant family a secret from the other gods; Hel could only assume he had a good reason for it. But, as Odin had correctly guessed, Hel was desperate, and risky though it might be, it was Hel's only hope. If this didn't change Freyja's mind, nothing would.

"I am Loki's daughter," said Hel boldly, though she was quivering inside. "By doing me this favour, you'll be also doing him a favour. He will be yours, then, no doubt."

To her surprise, Freyja burst into laughter.

"You're bluffing," she said. "Little girl, do you have any idea how many children, in all inhabited worlds, claim to be Loki's children every day?"

"Indeed," remarked Odin, his amusement betrayed only by a small curl of lips. "Of course, knowing our lascivious friend Loki, at least some of them must be speaking the truth."

"Maybe," said Freyja, though her tone and expression were doubtful. "So, what makes you think you are one of them, little girl?"

Before Hel could even think of a reply, Odin intervened.

"That's enough, Freyja," he said, his tone authoritative, but not unkind. He then addressed Hel, "You must excuse her. You caught her at a very bad time, I'm afraid. That aside, I should refrain from reminding her of Loki's escapades with other women if I were you, as it only aggravates her further."

At a loss for words, Hel only tilted her head as she regarded the Allfather. She had know, of course, that he was her father's friend and blood brother, so he couldn't have been that bad a person in the first place, but she hadn't really expected him to be this polite and gracious. Charmed, Hel felt drawn to him. He really was like a father, even to a misshapen giant such as Hel – in fact, he acted more like a father to her than Loki himself ever had.

"My dear Freyja," Odin continued, "I think you are under a lot of stress. Why don't go out and get some fresh air? We'll talk later."

"Yes, Lord Odin," said Freyja stiffly before bowing and taking her leave. Her cat, which had remained quiet and alert by Hel's side all this time, threw the giantess one last wary look and hurried after its master.

Just then, Hel's stomach growled. Not very loudly, but Odin still heard it, which mortified Hel to no end. Feeling her whole face burn, Hel lowered her head in shame once more. Unlike the curse, she felt this was entirely her fault. She had been about to go home to lunch, but then got sidetracked by Sleipnir's apparition. Granted, she'd eaten some berries she'd picked in the vicinity while Fenrir and Sleipnir talked, but obviously that hadn't been enough. She should have sneaked into the kitchen in Valhalla and grabbed something to eat before coming upstairs.

"You poor thing, you must be famished," said Odin. "And exhausted, too. I can only imagine how trying it must have been to you, travelling all the way from Jotunheim, that horrible, dangerous place. As remarkable a child as you may be, you are still a child, after all. Come, come, I'll give you something to eat."

oOo

It had been many years since Fenrir had followed his father's trail to Asgard, but luckily he still remembered the way well enough to get by without much trouble. When it seemed like he was getting a little lost, he would concentrate on picking up Sleipnir's faint scent. This frustrated him quite a bit, because it was only delaying them; if only he could remember the way a little better, he'd probably have arrived in Asgard hours earlier.

On the other hand, these delays allowed Hrygda and Jormungand to catch up with him. They were both doing their best, though neither were built for long, speedy trips. Hrygda didn't have that much trouble keeping up at first, but she was getting tired. Fenrir had offered to carry her, but she had adamantly refused. She was too proud and stubborn to accept being carried around. As for Jormungand, Fenrir had to admit – to himself, at least – that he was slithering impressively fast, considering his size and weight, but he was still much slower than Fenrir would have liked.

Whenever those two got left behind, Fenrir would take a break and wait for Hrygda, but not for Jormungand. They just couldn't afford to wait so long, and Fenrir trusted that his little brother would be able to follow his and Hrygda's trail easily – his sense of smell was, after all, as good as Fenrir's, if not even better.

At last, the unforgettable sight of the impressive walls and gate that protected Asgard came into view in the far distance. Fenrir halted abruptly, which made Hrygda nearly crash into him, and regarded it for a moment as recollections from the last time he had been here, only a naïve little puppy then, flooded in. It felt like a lifetime ago, and at the same time, like it had just been yesterday – the gate and the walls were exactly the same, that grumpy gatekeeper was still there, in the exact same position as before, and even the landscape appeared to have been unaffected by time.

"Is that it, Fenrir?" whispered Hrygda, her eyes glimmering in wonder at the magnificent gates. "Are we in Asgard?"

"We will be, once we go through that gate," he replied gruffly, his eyes trained on the gatekeeper whose name now escaped him. Hrygda, on the other hand, was too excited about going to Asgard to worry about the man guarding the gate.

"Never in my life I imagined I'd actually set foot in the divine land..." she sighed. "Not even in my dreams. In fact... Fenrir, pinch me!" she said, holding out her arm in front of him. Fenrir just looked at her oddly.

"Hrygda, snap out of it! We're on an important mission here, remember? We've got to save my little sister!"

"Oh, right!" she said, stomping on her excitement and awe, her face assuming a serious, determined expression. "So, what's the plan?"

"Well, first of all, we gotta find a way to get past the gatekeeper."

"How did you do it the last time?"

"I was lucky," he admitted. "Remember, the thing with with Freyja and her cats...?"

"Oh, yes, yes," she said, waving her hand dismissively. She had heard this story millions of times already. "Well, we can't just stand here and wait for another god to come and conveniently distract the watchman. I think it's pretty obvious that there's only one thing to do now."

"And what is it?" asked Fenrir, wary.

"I'll provide a distraction myself!" she said, raising her voice for the first time during this exchange.

"Uh-huh. And how exactly do you plan to do that?"

"It's very simple." Judging by her tone of voice, one would think she had been asked how to blink. "I'll charge, and while he's too busy trying to stop me from pummelling him into the ground, you and your brother break down the gate or – or climb up the wall or something! I'll catch up with you later." She gave Fenrir a tight, warm hug, a half-lick half-kiss on the forehead, and then sprinted towards the gatekeeper, howling an ear-piercing battle cry.

"No, wait, wait!" Fenrir tried to protest, but it was too late.

"What is she doing?" wondered Jormungand, who had just caught up. Fenrir only groaned.

Before the gatekeeper even knew what hit him, he was on the ground, with a bloody nose and staring at stars that only he could see. To his credit, he recovered quickly and wasted no time in fighting back, not seeming to care that his opponent was a young woman in a long dress – not the most appropriate attire for a battle, incidentally, but Hrygda would never let such a small detail hinder her.

Although he couldn't help feeling a little concerned about Hrygda, Fenrir believed she was strong and smart enough to take care of herself and hold her own at least for a good while.

"Let's go!" he barked to his brother and they hurried to the gate.

"What in the nine worlds?!" yelled the gatekeeper when the pair approached, no doubt shocked by their unusual, impressive size. However, since he was too busy dealing with Hrygda, and maybe also a little too intimidated by the two beasts, he didn't have the chance to try to stop them from entering Asgard.

"Brother, give me a boost!" ordered Fenrir.

After assisting his brother, Jormungand easily slithered up and over the gate. This was hardly an obstacle for him, since he had grown so large. Perhaps for the first time in his life, Jormungand saw an advantage in his size.

Fenrir looked back through the gate, seeing that Hrygda was still engaged in battle with the hapless gatekeeper. It didn't look like they were going to stop any time soon. He hesitated for a moment, still reluctant to leave her behind, but then decided that was for the best. Hrygda would be all right, he reassured himself. As soon as she was done pounding the living daylights out of the gatekeeper, she would hurry into Asgard and join the two brothers. Right now, it was someone else he should be worrying about.

Resolutely turning away from the two fighters, Fenrir rested his gaze on Jormungand, who was flicking his tongue in the air with a look of concentration on his reptilian face.

"This way, Brother!" he announced at length and quickly slithered away.

Fenrir hurried up to take the lead again. Memories resurfaced while he looked around, noting that Asgard hadn't changed at all. Everything, even the trees and flowers, appeared to be exactly the same way as when he had last seen them. Nothing had grown, nothing had died. All was statically perfect. The only difference, as far as Fenrir could see, was the position of the sun, which had taken haste at some point during the three giants' journey and floated westwards, where it was now lazily setting, looking tired but satisfied.

As tired as Fenrir and Jormungand also felt, they couldn't afford to take a rest now. The proud wolf pushed the weakness aside and forced himself to keep going, pausing only to kick his little brother into motion when the latter began to waver and lag behind. Fenrir knew that all this fast travelling had been hard on him, but they had no time to waste. Jormungand claimed that he understood this and was trying his best, but Fenrir still wished his brother was a little tougher. Oh, he was very strong physically, stronger than even Fenrir, no doubt about it, but he had as much willpower and resilience to keep it together in times of crisis as a snowball on an open fire.

Fortunately, it shouldn't be long before they found the gods. If Fenrir remembered correctly – and he liked to believe he had an excellent memory – Valhalla was just a few minutes from the gate. Already could he see its towering walls and the distant roofs of the other gods' halls, all glowing golden in the light of the sunset. Even from this far, it was a sight to behold.

"So this is Asgard..." breathed Jormungand. "It looks very... bright, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, isn't it great? I wish we lived here," said Fenrir, a wistful sigh punctuating his words.

"I don't," said his brother in a flat tone, much to the wolf's surprise.

"What? You don't? Why not? I thought you liked brightness..."

"The warm brightness of the sun, yes. But it's different here. This is such a cold and exposing kind of brightness. I don't like it. I feel so uncomfortable..."

Fenrir rolled his eyes and put it down to his brother being his usual fussy self. It wasn't cold at all in Asgard. Quite the opposite, in fact, it was almost a little too warm. The temperature was perfect, even for the cold-blooded. Stupid Jormungand, always finding a fault in everything Fenrir liked... If the place was good enough for all the gods, then it should damn well be more than good enough for him, too.

"Listen, Brother..." whispered Jormungand as they neared the gods' halls. "Don't you think that maybe we should wait until dark before getting any closer? I mean, won't we just attract attention if we show up right now? Last time you were here, you were just a puppy and no one would have reason to give you a second thought, but there's no way they're going to ignore us as we are now..."

Fenrir just stared at him, unable to believe what he was hearing.

"Oh, will you shut up already?" he then snapped. "What the hell is wrong with you? I've told you a million times that we can't waste any time! Our reckless sister could be in danger right now, and you want to wait until dark? So what if we attract attention? Let people stare! I don't care what they think!" Scoffing, Fenrir purposefully quickened his pace, teeth bared in annoyance.

"You're being as reckless as our sister!" retorted Jormungand, slithering faster in order to keep up. "What if they don't just stare? What if..." he trailed off, seemingly too anxious to continue.

"I don't see why they would do that," said Fenrir. Then, with a smirk, he added, "But don't worry, Brother; I'll protect you. If they try anything funny, I'll bite their heads off – literally."

Jormungand remained silent – whether reassured by Fenrir's words or still lost in distressing thoughts, Fenrir couldn't tell, nor did he care.

A couple of minutes later, Jormungand spoke up again. "I think we're on the wrong track," he said.

Fenrir opened his mouth to snap at him, but suddenly realised he could no longer smell Sleipnir's faint scent.

"This is all your fault, you know!" he said. "If you weren't distracting us both with your inane chattering, we'd still be on the right track!"

"They were going to Lady Freyja's place, not Valhalla," Jormungand pointed out, ignoring the accusation.

"And who knows where that is?" growled Fenrir, his patience running out fast.

"Should we go back to try to find their trail again?"

"Nah, too much trouble. Let's just have a look around. It shouldn't be that hard to find them. I mean, how far off can Freyja's hall be? All the others seem to live near Valhalla."

Within a few more minutes they were close enough to see some residents of Asgard walking about busily. They seemed to be preparing some kind of party outside. Fenrir scanned the crowd for his father, but found instead that nice lady who had taken him in when he'd first come to Asgard, her twin children next to her.

"Sigyn!" exclaimed Fenrir in delight, wagging his tail. He had missed her. They had only been together for a day or so, but during that short period of time, she had acted like a second mother to him. He wondered if she still remembered him after all these years, and if she would recognise him.

Well, only one way to find out!

"Wh-what are you doing?!" hissed Jormungand in alarm when Fenrir ran off in the gods' direction. "Brother! Come back!"

Ignoring his little brother's pleas, Fenrir happily barked to get Sigyn's attention.

In retrospect, maybe that hadn't really been a very bright move on his part. Fenrir began to realise this when all the gods froze and dropped what they were doing to look at him as if they were all on the brink of heart attacks. Most of the women and children shrieked, including Sigyn, while the men shouted at each other to get their weapons.

"A giant monster!" "A wolf demon!" they were all shouting, some pointing at him, others running around in blind panic.

Fenrir stopped and watched the commotion, more baffled than anything else. These people acted as if they had never seen a wolf before... Really, Fenrir wasn't that big and scary. Or was he? Either way, they were supposed to be gods, powerful and brave, an example to be followed everywhere. Yet, here they were, frightened and helpless at the mere sight of a slightly oversized wolf. How pathetic.

Another ear-piercing scream. "There's another one! Over there!" A pale, slender finger pointed at Jormungand, who had been trying to inconspicuously slither away to safety. "A giant serpent monster!"

"Be quiet, you fools!" barked Fenrir. He was about to say more when he caught sight of two sturdy men in full battle regalia, armed to the teeth, looking to all the world as if they were going to fight an entire army all by themselves.

"Tyr, you get the wolf demon! I'll get the serpent! Thistime I'll finish it!" shouted one of the duo, whom Fenrir recognised as Thor. Before Fenrir could make any sense of those words, Thor's companion, Tyr, was already swinging his sword at him, nearly cutting his head off. Having evaded the sudden attack, Fenrir was immediately on guard, growling at his opponent. Behind him, he heard Jormungand scream in terror.

"Brother! Help!"

"I'm a little busy here!" retorted Fenrir while he dodged a series of new attacks from Tyr. He snapped his jaws at the man, who quickly moved out of the way and counter-attacked with practiced ease. "Fight your own battles for once, damn it!"

Tyr looked a little surprised to hear the two beasts speak, but recovered quickly and focused on the fight. Thor, meanwhile, was seemingly unaware of his surroundings, too busy delivering some long-winded speech about being the friend of justice and slayer of foul demons and monsters.

This Tyr person was an excellent warrior, and normally Fenrir would have almost enjoyed the challenge, but at the moment he was rather worried about his sister (and maybe a little tiny bit about his little brother, as well). He was also wondering where his father was and what he would make of this whole mess if and when he found out about it, and then he thought of Hrygda, who should be coming to join them any minute now.

Since Fenrir's heart wasn't into the fight, Tyr was rapidly getting the upper hand. Emboldened by the two fighting gods' success, the other gods, even some of the women, began to get weapons and aid their compatriots.

Oh, great, now they were outnumbered. Fenrir honestly hadn't expected things to get so out of hand. His eyes darted back and forth in search of his brother, looking and hoping for some support, but the snake was nowhere to be seen. No help from there, then. Fenrir was left completely to his own devices.

Taking advantage of Fenrir's momentary distraction, Tyr lashed out, opening a cut on the wolf's flank. Fenrir yelped at the flash of searing pain and drew back. As far as he could see, there was only one thing for him to do now.

"This is not over!" he shouted and sprinted off, leaping over the less harmful-looking gods. "I will be back tomorrow, just you wait!"

He wasn't running away, he told himself. He was just... stepping back momentarily to reflect on the situation and devise a new strategy.

oOo

Jormungand had known from the beginning that something horrible like this would happen. Unfortunately, though, he'd had no choice but to resign to fate, for his astray sister's sake.

Then again, while the trip to Asgard couldn't have been avoided, he still blamed his current predicament solely on Fenrir. Even now, Jormungand just could not fathom what in the nine worlds had possessed his brother to blow their cover and run headlong right into the gods' midst. If it weren't for Fenrir's rash actions, Thor wouldn't be on Jormungand's tail right now.

Probably.

Just the sound of that awful, roaring voice had been enough to freeze Jormungand's blood. No, no, not him again, he'd frantically thought. He was completely helpless against this hammer-wielding maniac. Thor's attacks were heavy-handed and quick as lightning, leaving Jormungand too disoriented to even attempt to defend himself. All he could do was crawl away in blind desperation, longing for some cover, where he could at least regain his bearings, even if for just a minute.

"Are you running away?" boomed Thor. "Don't think you can get away that easily! I'm not done with you yet! You hear me? Come back here and take your punishment, you cowardly, slimy monster!" Jormungand saw stars and the world spinning dizzily before his eyes when Thor's hammer hit him again and threw him up in the air.

This went on and on for hours, or so it felt like to Jormungand. Thor would strike him, then taunt and mock him, call him names, then beat him up some more. His energy draining, Jormungand weakly curled up into a protective ball, burying his head under his coils, with a soft, anguished hiss. Once again he wondered, why was this happening to him? Why did Thor always attack him on sight? The thunder god had said it was his punishment, but... Jormungand hadn't done anything wrong! He hadn't! At least, not anything that would warrant such harsh punishment. He'd never even done anything to Thor or any other god. Could it be that Thor just took pleasure in tormenting those weaker than him? Was the famous, admired god really nothing but a cruel bully?

He became suddenly aware of lying in some sort of liquid. At first, he feared it was a pool of his own blood, but upon taking a quick glance around himself, he saw it was nothing so dramatic, only the shore of a lake. Instinctively, he crawled further into the water, until he was at the very bottom.

Unlike the lake near his home, this one had very warm, soothing water. It was so peaceful and relaxing, in fact, that Jormungand would have fallen asleep right there and then, if not for the blurry sight of Thor coming to stand at the shore, his sharp, burning eyes searching the water for any sign of his victim. Jormungand held still, literally not moving a muscle, not daring to even flick out his tongue, and prayed that Thor wouldn't go as far as dive into the lake to come after him.

To his dismay, Thor looked like he was about to do just that, but then, miraculously, another man – Jormungand couldn't see him very well, but he seemed to be the gatekeeper – approached Thor in a hurry. They exchanged a few words, then left.

Jormungand dared not move, though. He would remain right where he was until he ran out of air. Just to be on the safe side.

oOo

When Odin had said he would give Hel something to eat, she had thought he meant a small, modest meal. The kind of meal she imagined a servant would have. It was a great surprise, then, to find that he had ordered what looked like a banquet just for her. Hel had never seen so much food on just one table before, especially not such appetising food. The mere sight of it made her mouth water, and it had a heavenly smell. After just her first mouthful, she was almost convinced this had to be all a dream. It was just too good and surreal to be true.

Despite feeling ravenous, she forced herself to eat slowly and reservedly. This wasn't her home, where her own mother and elder brother ate like pigs and her little brother could eat without worrying about table manners or chewing his food at all. This was Valhalla, and she was in the presence of the supreme god, the Allfather. She had to show a minimum of decency.

Odin just sat and watched her eat, a hint of a smile on his lips.

"Please, make no ceremony," he told her after some minutes. "Don't mind me, and feel at home."

Without a word, she began to eat a little faster and less quaintly, but she still restrained herself. After a while, they began to talk.

They talked about many things, most of them irrelevant, but still quite interesting. Odin did most of the talk, of course, especially in the beginning. He asked her about life in Jotunheim, what she did for fun, if she had many friends, and after a while, she asked him the same questions. To their pleasant surprise, they seemed to have much in common. For instance, Odin's greatest passions were also magic and reading, and he often got annoyed at his family, though he naturally still loved them all. Hel had a great talking to him. Instead of the gruff, strict old god that she had always vaguely imagined him to be, Odin was very witty and sometimes kind of goofy, too. One couldn't keep a straight face for long when talking to him.

By the end of dinner, when Hel was quite satisfied and relaxed, Odin broached the subject of her curse again, asking her if she was sure she had been born that way.

"My mother says so," she replied, with a shrug. "And she would never lie to me."

"Oh, I didn't mean to imply that," said Odin. "I just find it very curious that you were born with such a curse for no apparent reason. Are you sure your mother wasn't cursed before you were born?"

"Mother says she's sure of that. She's a very powerful witch, you see. The most powerful in all of Ironwood! Even if she doesn't look like it. She'd have noticed if someone had thrown a curse at her even in her sleep."

"Interesting," he murmured, narrowing his eyes as he scrutinised her. "It doesn't make much sense, though. Maybe some other god threw the curse? Very unlikely, but I'll ask around anyway. Hmm. You know, Hel, I do believe that's not a curse at all, but your true self. This is how you are supposed to look like. You were... destined to be this way."

"Why? Why would I be destined to be this way? What's the use?"

"That you will find out when the time comes, won't you?" he said, giving her a meaningful look. "The point is, you shouldn't try to change who you are. No one should."

Hel lowered her head, twirling her finger in her hair. "But I don't like to be this way," she whispered, eyes stinging. "Who could possibly like someone as ugly as me? Not even my own father..." She sniffled, feeling tears trickling down her cheeks. Part of her was mortified that she had begun to cry in front of the Allfather, but she just couldn't stop. Sobs tore from her chest in harsh gasps, and she covered her eyes, wishing she could disappear from the world just as easily as it now disappeared from her sight. Inwardly, she cursed destiny and whoever controlled it.

"There, there, don't cry, my dear," said Odin comfortingly, brushing her hair with his long, slender fingers. "I didn't mean to upset you. I'm sorry. Would it make you feel better to take a look at my library?"

She looked up in surprise, eyes wide. Enter the Allfather's library?

"I'd love that!"

oOo

Lying inside a small cave a good way away from Valhalla as well as any other god's hall, Fenrir was nursing his wound and cursing colourfully under his breath. Fortunately, the wound wasn't as deep as he'd first thought – it didn't hurt nearly as much as his wounded pride, at any rate. Thoughts of revenge swam and swirled in his head.

He also wondered what had happened to Hrygda and Jormungand. Though he didn't want to admit it, he was really beginning to worry about his little brother. After all, the last time Fenrir had seen him, he had been facing the mighty god Thor. Besides, as well-hidden as Fenrir was, Jormungand should have been able to find him already. So, either he had managed to escape from Thor and was now rescuing Hel, or things had only gone downhill for him, and Fenrir very much doubted it was the former. Maybe Fenrir should go and look for him...

His ears picked up a very soft sound – footsteps – coming nearer and nearer the mouth of the cave. Steeling himself and suppressing a growl, Fenrir began to stand up without making a sound, glad for the concealing darkness of the cave.

Then, as soon as the figure outside came in, Fenrir recognised her scent and relaxed.

"I was wondering where you were," he remarked.

"Same here. I've been looking for you for hours!" said Hrygda. "I only found you because the smell of your blood is so strong. Are you all right?"

He felt her warm hand on his back, caressing and loving, and melted under her touch, an appreciative hum in the back of his throat.

"Yeah, it's not that bad. It hardly hurts any more," he reassured her.

"That's good," she sighed, scratching his ears and neck. "I was so worried! When that gatekeeper took a moment too long to get up, I climbed up the gate and came looking for you and your brother. But I wasn't the only one; there were all these people running around with weapons and torches, yelling about having to find some wolf demon and kill him. I figured they were talking about you."

"Were you seen?"

"No. I kept myself hidden all the time, and I made sure I wasn't followed when I came here."

He grunted in approval. "Did you see Jormungand?"

"No. Why? Is he missing?"

"I guess so. He was being chased by the god Thor when we went separate ways and I haven't seen him since."

"Do you think something happened to him?"

"I don't know. I wouldn't be surprised to find out that the idiot got himself killed or something." Despite his callous words, he could no longer keep the worried tone from his voice.

"I'm sure he's all right," said Hrygda, trying to comfort him. "So, anyway, why do you have all of Asgard hunting you down? What did you do to them?"

"Me? I didn't do anything to them!" he protested. "In fact, I was trying to be nice to them – well, to one of them. You remember Sigyn, my old man's other wife? Well, I saw her with the other gods, and I was going to greet her... but then, they all freaked out on me! You should've seen their faces. Even when they all ganged up on me, they were scared shitless." He snorted. "Imagine that! Who would've thought the great gods would be scared of me?"

Hrygda was still for a moment, her eyes wide, then resumed her petting.

"Hmm, well, I don't think the gods are so cowardly. I think you can be really intimidating."

"Yeah?" he asked, his interest piqued.

"Mm-hmm. Who wouldn't be scared of you? I mean, you're so big and strong, and you have very sharp teeth and... intense, eerie eyes that glow ominously in the dark..." She breathed deeply and buried her face on his neck, smelling him, her hand still caressing him, though now at a slower, more deliberate pace, running her fingers through his fur. "And your voice alone sends shivers down one's spine and makes one's heart beat faster. So powerful, so striking, so beautiful..."

Flattered, Fenrir thought he should praise her in return, but was distracted from it when he felt her warm, wet tongue on his neck, licking him slowly, as if tasting him. His heart skipped a beat and he felt his blood run. Of course, Hrygda had licked him many times before, as she had almost every other wolf in the clan, but never like this. This time, it was different. It was more than just a casual gesture of affection for those in the same clan. This was much, much more special, more intimate. Tentatively, Fenrir licked her back. He did so with more reserve, but Hrygda seemed pleased and encouraged nevertheless.

"Fenrir," she said, breathing heavily, "you were always my favourite in the clan."

He just smiled, and they exchanged no more words throughout the night. There was no need for them any more.

oOo

When Hel entered Odin's library, it finally dawned on her that she was in paradise. Not most people's idea of paradise; that was Asgard as a whole, or the warriors' feasts in Valhalla. This was her own particular paradise, which made it all the more special and delightful. It was such a huge library, and there were so many books! Books on magic! Advanced magic she had never even heard of!

Odin just stood quietly near the door, allowing her the liberty to look at the entire library and read any book she liked. The problem was that there were so many great books, she just couldn't decide which one she wanted to read first. She leafed through them quickly, trying to absorb as much as possible in as little time as possible. After reading the same half dozen books back home for years, these were a wonderful, fresh change.

She must have been there for hours. Even when her eyes were so blurry from exhaustion that she could barely see the letters, she kept reading, almost completely unaware of her surroundings. As far as she was concerned, time had stopped and the world outside the library had faded to black.

Once in a while, she would ask Odin about a particularly interesting or puzzling excerpt, and he would gladly answer all her questions. Another thing she liked about him was that he didn't dumb down his explanations, even when it was advanced, complex topic. He treated her as an equal. He didn't even seem to mind that she often forgot to address him as "Lord" or "sir".

A sudden knock at the library's door jolted her back to the real world. Odin smiled at her reassuringly and excused himself. Hel held the book in front of her face so as to hide behind it and pretended to read, and when Odin opened the door, she risked a peek over the book to see who it was. She couldn't see them very well, especially since Odin hadn't opened the door all the way, but she recognised Thor and Freyja's voice. There were other two men with them, but Hel had no idea who they were.

They were whispering and mumbling, so Hel couldn't tell what they were talking about, until Odin burst out, "What?! Two giant monsters invaded Asgard hours ago and you only thought to inform me of this now?"

The other gods stammered apologies and excuses.

"It was their fault!" said Freyja. "Thor and Tyr insisted on tracking down the beasts and made us all go with them!"

"That's not true!" protested Thor. "I was chasing one of them all by myself! It was Heimdall who dragged me into the search for the other monster! Just when I was about to slay the first one, too."

An argument broke out, all the gods pointing fingers and blaming each other. Odin sighed and ordered them all to be silent. The argument stopped immediately.

"I am disappointed in all of you," he said. "Especially you, Heimdall. You are our watchman. As such, you should have come to me right away. It is your duty to protect the gate and, failing that, to inform me of any invasion."

"I told you Heimdall was losing his touch," muttered Freyja.

"Why, you—"

"Be quiet!" snapped Odin.

Hel couldn't hold back an amused smile behind her book. Those gods were just like a bunch of children being chastised by their father. Come to think of it, that was pretty much what they were, really.

With another heavy sigh, Odin asked them to explain what exactly had happened. All the four gods began to talk rapidly and at the same time, but both Hel and Odin were still able to get the gist of it. They spoke of a "deranged giantess" that had attacked Heimdall and "two giant monsters" – a wolf and a serpent – that had almost killed the goddess Sigyn.

Hel had the growing suspicion that the two monsters in question were her brothers. Had they come after her? That was so stupid of them, yet utterly predictable. What didn't make sense was that they would attack the gods gratuitously. Tried to kill Sigyn? From what Hel knew, Fenrir was actually very fond of Sigyn, and Jormungand would never attack anyone unless provoked – even then, it would take a lot of provocation.

It didn't take her long to put two and two together. If those two monsters were indeed her brothers, Fenrir must have actually intended to greet Sigyn, but his appearance must have frightened the gods, who assumed they were under attack. That made sense.

"I wounded the wolf demon," said one of the god, whose name was still unknown to Hel. "But he escaped. While Thor chased the serpent demon, we went after the wolf."

"But we couldn't find it anywhere," said Freyja.

"And thanks to Heimdall, I also lost the serpent monster," said Thor.

"They said they would be coming back tomorrow," said the unnamed god.

They all fell silent, waiting for Odin's reaction. The Allfather hummed thoughtfully, much in the same way he had when considering Hel's curse.

"A giant wolf and a giant serpent... Did they say why they were invading Asgard?"

"What do you mean, 'why'? Giants – especially giant monsters – don't need a reason to attack us!" said Thor. "It's just what they do."

"I suppose," said Odin, his tone dismissive. "I trust Sigyn is all right? Good, good. Where is Loki?"

"Who knows?" said Thor, indifferently. "He's been gone for a good while now. You know what he's like. He could be anywhere by now."

"Exactly," said Heimdall. "I'm not sure we even want to know where he is. The bastard could be shagging the dead in Niflheim for all we know," he said, with an obvious shudder. "As long as he stays away from me, I don't really care where he is."

"Language, Heimdall," scolded Odin. "Well, it seems to me that there is nothing we can do for now. Let's just wait until tomorrow. If the monsters come back, I will take care of them personally."

"Father, the sun is about to rise," Thor pointed out.

"Ah, indeed. Our sun has certainly been very active lately. Well, you don't need to concern yourselves about this any longer. Leave it all to me. Go, now. Oh, and, Heimdall, I wish to talk to you. Wait for me in Valaskjalf."

The gods murmured their assent and took their leave.

Odin quietly closed the door and made his way back to Hel, who lowered the book and looked up at him, trying not to let her worry show. They'd said Fenrir was wounded, and she had no idea what had happened to Jormungand. Were they all right? Should she tell Odin the truth about them?

"My dear Hel," Odin began, his voice sweet as honey, "I am terribly sorry, but, as you just heard, we have a little problem in our hands, so I'm afraid you can't stay here."

"I understand, Lord Odin," she said, fingering the book. "I should be going, anyway. My mother must be worried sick. I've already done what I came here to do, which was to take my plea to Lady Freyja."

"Nevertheless, it is regretful that you have to go so soon. You must be tired."

"Thank you for your concern, sir, but I can make it."

"I don't doubt you can." He gestured at the books. "Tell you what, I will give you a gift. Pick any book you like and it's yours."

"Really?" she gasped. Her eyes swept over the endless shelves, then rested on the book in her hands. "Th-thank you, My Lord! I... I think I would like this one."

Odin smiled. "Very well. It's a good choice."

Minutes later, they were both standing at Valhalla's front gate.

"Thank you very much for everything you have done for me, Lord Odin," she told him, bowing.

"No, Hel, thank you. I am very glad I met you," he said as the gate opened apparently on its own.

Hel stepped outside, narrowing her eyes at the very dim light of early dawn. The other gods' halls were a small distance away, and she could even see the gods themselves walking around.

"Um, excuse me, Lord Odin," said Hel, looking back at him. "Could I please borrow that cloak again?"

"It's quite warm outside," Odin pointed out, an amused smile on his face.

"I know, but... I don't want the others to see my face."

"Remember what I said, Hel. Never hide your true self, and never try to change who you are."

"But—"

"Farewell, my dear."

The massive doors of the gate shut closed. Hel stared at it for a moment, pressing the book against her chest. Then, she turned on her heels and walked away, sad but resolute.

Crossing the gods' dwelling place was more upsetting and embarrassing than actually dangerous. No one attacked her or threw insults at her. In fact, they kept their distance, looking fearful and, at worst, disgusted. There were remarks, however, some of which Hel had the misfortune to overhear. Whispers about a foul, possibly diseased witch. Mothers told their children to avert their eyes and keep away, lest they contracted Hel's curse.

Her cheeks burning and tears threatening to fall, Hel hurried her pace to get away as quickly as possible. Even in Jotunheim, she had never been treated this way before. Even the most powerful and arrogant giants had never looked at her with such open, vile disdain. Never had anyone feared her, as if she were some sort of soulless demon, or stayed away from her for fear of catching something or being cursed.

Once she left the gods well behind, she finally allowed herself to cry again. Still, she never stopped walking. One step after another, again and again, crossing a seemingly endless sea of flower fields. One might have wondered how anyone could be in such a beautiful place and yet feel miserable, but the perfect beauty of the place, in truth, only exacerbated her feelings of loneliness and shame, for she knew now that she could never belong to this world. The world of beauty. The world of happiness. A bright, warm, welcoming world where everyone loved and was loved. She was never meant to be in Paradise.

"Hel?"

She raised her head at the familiar voice. Like in a dream, Fenrir, Jormungand, and Hrygda stood before her, alive and well. By now, Hel's tears had dried, and she felt so lost and numb that she couldn't even muster the surprise or the joy to see her brothers.

"Hel?" Fenrir repeated, approaching her. Detachedly, she noted he had an almost imperceptible limp. "Are you all right? Where have you been?"

"It doesn't matter," she whispered, her voice sounding hollow even to her own ears. "What about you? Are you all right?"

"Yeah, we're okay. Jormungand and I got a little hurt, but nothing too bad."

"Good. Let's go home, then."

oOo

Sitting on Hlidskjalf, his high seat in Valaskjalf, Odin narrowed his unfocused eyes. This was just as he had expected. It seemed he wouldn't have to fight any monsters, after all. Not today, at least.

"Hugin, Munin," he called out. Two ravens flew in and perched on his shoulders. "Follow them. Watch them. And make sure Heimdall will kindly let them leave, like I told him to."

He sincerely hoped his suspicions weren't confirmed.