Shameless advertising: I've uploaded a post-Avengers one shot called "Family Visit", go read it! That is - if it's okay with you... *puppy face*
Ehm, ehm... and now we are finally going to Helheim! :)
Thor did already experience dying once, a few years ago in New Mexico when the Destroyer struck his mortal body. The pain from the blow soon gave way to a feeling of lightness as his soul was ripped out of his body and carried away in the company of the fair but ferocious Valkyries. He only just began to feel the elation of entering the great golden hall when he was forced not too gently back by the will of the Allfather, having fulfilled his quest for worthiness. He remembered where he was and felt his body and the reassuring weight of Mjollnir in his hand, prepared to take on his opponent with his returned powers. But even without the thrill of battle, his death and the glimpse of Valhalla was an extraordinary, overwhelming experience.
Not so this time. Coming to Helheim was unexpectedly plain and... calm. No celebratory feelings, no warm welcome, though nothing openly hostile either. Thor simply found himself among many ordinary people in a vast, muddy field deprived of grass by hundreds of feet who carried through the place every hour, along with the Helheim's attendants of sorts who introduced them to the afterlife.
The god did not feel noticed more than if he were to go to a busy market place. He did stand out a bit still, realizing many of those around him were very old, brought here by their years alone, or weary, not yet able to shake off the lingering feeling of long term illnesses as their paleness stood out in the gloomy twilight. There were also some, both young and old, shocked with fear from whatever accident they went through. And then others with resigned, desperate look in their eyes, who came there on their own volition. Endless murmur was carried trough the cool still air that smelled of dirt and sweat and rotting flesh in the crowded place, only occasionally a louder voice let itself be heard, angry or fearful but most often desperate, not accepting the harsh truth.
Before Thor could take in his surroundings in greater detail, he was forcibly spun around by his shoulder and found himself face to face with one thin, pale god, green eyes blazing with anger and with something else Thor couldn't decipher in his confusion.
"You utter, complete idiot!" Loki's hands on Thor's shoulders were shaking. Thor knew his brother would be displeased when he learnt he came after him, but this complete loss of composure was unlike Loki. "I knew your stupidity was unparalleled but this time you outdid yourself! What – what possessed you to do such a thing?"
Thor stared perplexed for a moment. He was never very good at reading Loki, but this – this almost seemed as if-
"Father, I am glad to see you here," a low, feminine, velvet voice sounded behind the Thunderer. "And I see an unexpected newcomer."
Thor turned around to face his step-niece Hela, the Goddess of Death. She was tall – not as tall as him, but enough to tower over most of the people milling around in their vicinity. Right half of her body was young and unblemished, beautiful even, with her fair skin, sharp features resembling her father, wide dark eye with long eyelashes and narrow black hair that fell from her scalp, adorned with a spiky black and silver crown, and around her shoulders and waist like a waterfall. Her left half was blackened and rotten with a gaping hole in place of her eye and but a few dark strands on the top of her head.
She was dressed in a dark green and black long sleeved tunic, fastened with a belt and continuing to the middle of her calves in a semblance of a skirt. Similarly coloured trousers were mostly hidden because of leather boots going up above her knees. The clothes were adorned with strategically placed pieces of silver armour with spikes on her shoulders, long black and silver sceptre with sharp blades in her gloved hands completed the look.
"Be welcome, son of Odin," Hela spoke politely but without a bow or curtsy.
"Greetings, Queen Hela," Thor inclined his head; seeing his niece in a battle outfit for the first time was giving him an unusual respect for her. It was no more the young maiden he used to sometimes accompany his brother to visit. He saw from the corner of his eye Loki coming to stand to the side, having them both in sight, but didn't look at him, instead continued speaking to the queen:
"I came to offer my help battling your enemies. I mean no disrespect by doing so and ask for nothing in return. Will you accept?"
"Of course I accept," Hela said in dark amusement, though her face revealed nothing. Thor could feel Loki beside him tensing but did not understand until he heard Hela's next words: "As it is your duty rather than an offer, Thor, fallen God of Thunder," she stood tall and proud with an air of command around her. "Every able resident of Helheim is obligated to fight for their queen in this battle, as there are not many of great strength." She procured a sword seemingly out of nowhere and tossed it to Thor, who caught it on reflex, otherwise frozen in shock.
"Father, I am heading back on the battlefield, I hope you join us soon," she said in a sudden hurry, as sounds of battle met their ears, and quickly departed.
"Great thinking, Thor," Loki sneered at him but his sarcasm failed, giving way to his worry which Thor was now able to see clear as a day. "Let us join then, let us protect your new home." His tone was now accusing.
"I did not think-" Thor started, looking forlornly down at his sword as he also realized Mjollnir stayed with his body on Midgard.
"Yes, you did not think!" Loki snapped at him, finger pointing at his face. "This is the realm of the dead, Thor, you killed yourself! This is not some quest to pass the time, there is no way back!" He was shouting by now, while his brother stood stock still.
"But... you do it all the time," Thor tried to reason weakly, tried to give himself some hope as the weight of the realization sat down heavy on his shoulders.
"Because my daughter asked me to!" Loki swung his arm in the direction of the battlefield. "Because this is the fastest way to Helheim and I know she will let me leave again." He was openly upset and Thor despite everything couldn't help but feel pleasant warm growing in his chest. So his brother cared after all, it was not so hopeless then, maybe they could be family again one day... If you were not dead, a deadpan voice in his head quenched the thought. But if Loki cared, maybe he could do something, talk to Hela.
"Could you try to talk to Hela..." Thor trailed off.
Loki looked at him, frozen for a moment, as if realizing his behaviour and that he was talking to his enemy. "Oh, I could," he scoffed. "And maybe she would do me the favour. But now that I think about it, tell me – why should I? Things will be so much easier on Midgard without you to interfere. I think I can eventually make peace with the knowledge that my greatest enemy did not die by my hand."
Now it was Thor's turn to stare quietly for a moment. Inspecting. Yes, he was bad at reading Loki, but now that he saw him up close and still, he could see something in his eyes. Loki's whirl of emotion was at the moment too much even for him to hide and Thor also didn't believe Loki's shouting a moment ago was just his hurt pride, no matter how much his brother's current expression tried to tell him otherwise. Thor decided to risk it and call him out on it:
"Is this the real reason? It did not seem so just a moment ago."
But before Loki had a chance to answer, brows furrowing darkly, a sound explosion came from the place of the battle, so great that even the brothers felt the pressure wave.
"Come," Loki gestured urgently, their argument all but forgotten for now, as he rushed towards the rocky fields, people around dispersed and not much interested in anything that just transpired among the three gods. They were new here, for all they knew it could be an everyday occurrence. And it also seemed that mortals – and mortals were understandably in an absolute majority there – took a longer time to take their bearings together after dying.
Thor followed his brother without a word, understanding the gravity of the situation, whoever the enemy might be. Heimdall was actually pretty vague about that.
Familiar rush of battle started brewing in his veins and he grinned. This would be a battle unlike any other. And if he read his brother well at least a little bit this time, he might yet have a chance to share the tale with his Midgardian friends afterwards.
Thor rushed across the fields of yellowed grass and withering trees here and there, following the nimble form of his brother, his green cape clearly visible in the pale, shadowed light coming through the thick clouds above. But the air was warm despite the lack of proper sunlight, warmer than Thor remembered from his previous visits. Could it have something to do with him being just a bodiless soul this time around? Though now that he thought about it, it appeared it was getting brighter too. This light had richer colour, yellow, orange, even red. It was – fire.
They were nearing the battle now and Thor finally laid his eyes on first enemies even though he already knew with near certainty who it would be. He was proven right. Loki, being a few paces ahead, wasted no time and shot two fire demons with a burst of magic, then spun around to deliver a kick to the chest of a third one, knocking him off his feet and impaling him with a staff he didn't have a moment ago.
Thor by then caught up to him and slashed a fire demon, creeping up from Loki from behind, across his chest, then run his sword through the stomach of another. While a sword wasn't his weapon of choice, he was trained to be proficient in a battle with a wide assortments of weapons, however scarcely the opportunity to put those skills to use arose.
"What quarrel has Mulspelheim with Helheim?" Thor shouted at Loki over the grunts and clangs of the fight. The younger god shielded himself with a force field against a wide whip of roaring fire and shouted back over his shoulder, not taking his eyes off the opponent:
"It is but one province. Great plague decimated their population and they blame my daughter."
Thor didn't have a chance to respond immediately as they both engaged in a bout against many foes at once. All with amber eyes, hair the colour of fire and their skin tones ranging from pale, almost white and translucent, to dark nearly enough to match Heimdall's, and there were even few with their skin like charcoal. They were clothed in simple garments and little or no armour, using spears and daggers or just their magic to fight, rushing all around like fireflies on a warm night.
But their large numbers made the fight just inconvenient rather than openly dangerous – they weren't, for the most part, great warriors, counting on outnumbering their enemies – so Thor could let part of his mind leave the battle and think about what Loki had told him. Hela was known for being able to create illnesses and plagues but she hardly ever used these powers. And when she did, she never kept it a secret. Still, it was not unheard of for such terrible events on various realms to be attributed to her, perhaps in a vain hope to overcome the grief and the loss by finding someone to blame.
Several members of the closest group of demons suddenly fell to the ground, arrows protruding form their bodies. This gave Thor a better view of the surroundings. The enemies' corpses littered the field and even more of them were still standing, slowly overcoming the much lower numbers of defenders in order to move to the residential areas and towards the tall dark castle, standing proud above the rocky terrain. More arrows rained from the sky with unwavering precision and Thor finally noticed a little movement at the top of a gathering of tall sharp rocks, immediately recognizing the slim, elegant figures of maybe a dozen light elves. The archers would help but it was still not enough. Thor really wished he had Mjollnir with him now, sending foes to their inevitable deaths by dozens at a time. He felt handicapped, even with his godly powers he did not find himself of much use. Just like during his banishment, facing off the Destroyer.
But of course! The banishment: When he fought the agents guarding Mjollnir, he did not need his trusty weapon to at least influence the weather. And right now, he was – no offence to his Midgardian friends – more than a mere mortal.
He tried to gain a moment of no disturbance to focus on the heavy clouds but the enemies were too much and there was no place to hide – well, not hide, just strategically fall back for a little while. He sought out Loki, who was pushed by the combat a little away, and began to fight his way towards him.