I apologize for the wait; I've been applying for jobs, preparing for graduation, and otherwise trying to enjoy my spring break. But here we are, with another chapter. This one's title is from AC/DC's "Hells Bells".
Chapter Seven: Hell's Bells
"Boys," Loki said, "Meet your baby sister."
Fenris, ever sociable, practically bounded over to press his nose near Hela's chubby face. He sniffed in rapid, curious huffs that ruffled what little hair she had on her pale head.
What is her name? Sleipnir asked. He extended a foreleg to gently push Fenris backward to give them some space.
"Hela," Loki said. He released a deep sigh and straightened to sit with his back firmly against the stone brim of the fountain. "It's a long story."
Jormungandr's forked tongue flicked in and out, keeping a respectful yet intrigued distance away from the infant. Hela stared at them, her green-gray eyes wide as she visibly tried to parse the assortment of animals returning her gaze.
"She's adorable," Frigga said. She leaned over Loki's shoulder and wiggled a finger at Hela's grasping hand. The tiny fist wrapped around the All-Mother's slender finger and pulled it to her mouth, eliciting a laugh from the queen.
For a moment, Loki felt at ease as if he had not trapped a very pissed-off cosmic entity in the Mirror Dimension. The peacefulness of the palace gardens and the presence of a loving family could almost wash clean the darkness pursuing him. Nevertheless, the grim reality of the storm brewing behind the Veil clung to his soul. It would never stop pursuing him, not until Death claimed her prize.
Loki closed his eyes and breathed in the fresh air of the royal gardens, choosing to believe Death could not follow him here. Asgard had power far beyond the rest of the Nine Realms and into the darkest depths of the cosmos. Yet, a whole army of Berserkers would not defeat the one true end of all things.
Sensing the despair bubbling inside her youngest son, Frigga freed her finger from Hela's small yet mighty grip and pulled Loki into a warm embrace.
"It's alright, darling," Frigga said, her fingers smoothing out his hair like she used to do in his youth, "You are safe."
For now.
Loki let his mother hold him, watching his sons through half-lidded eyes. They waited before him in various states of eagerness and patience.
Sleipnir stood in the middle of the trio, his hazel eyes directly on Loki. The eldest had a particular intelligence within him, one where he could tell if someone had not shared the whole story. Though he said nothing and would not do so unless Loki allowed it, Sleipnir's expression proved he wished to know every detail before he formed an opinion. Sleipnir always waited and often chose to trust others even in uncertain situations. It would get him seriously injured or killed one of these days, but right now, Loki let his firstborn be his ever-patient self.
Jormungandr, on the other hand, had a fire inside him. He lept before he looked, and judged everyone and everything. If he didn't like something, he let people know. Perhaps the distrust came from the fearful remarks or outright bullying he received from both strangers and royal attendants and guards alike. He had bitten and accidentally killed—baby Jormy didn't know how to control his venom—a noble's son and even stabbed Thor. Both of them might have deserved it: the noble's son because he had teased Jormungandr, and Thor because he should have known better than to leave sharp weapons within tails-reach of a tired, tantruming toddler. Though they had provoked Jormungandr into lashing out, but if he didn't settle down soon, Odin would pounce on any excuse to cast the "volatile and aggressive" serpent out of Asgard.
Yet, beneath the hard exterior, Jormungandr had a burning protectiveness and would selflessly defend whatever he deemed worthy. The way he stared at Hela, his scaly head upright and attentive above his loosely coiled body, proved he already deemed her someone worth protecting. It lifted the worries Loki had about Jormungandr accepting Hela into their lives.
Fenris, carefree and easily distracted, let his pink tongue loll out from his mouth and titled his head. He clearly had no qualms about no longer being the baby of the family. He loved meeting new people; people often reacted better to his presence because nobody could say no to his adorable fluffiness.
While Sleipnir was 'innocent until proven guilty while doing enough research to formulate a proper response' and Jormungandr was 'assume the worst, don't tread on me or I'll bite you', Fenris was 'trust first and ask no questions unless absolutely, positively necessary'. Few things bothered him, and if something did upset him, it never lasted long. He was all 'forgive and forget, let's go for a walk instead'. Still, his amiability didn't stop him from being fiercely protective of his territory; his territory just happened to encompass almost everything with his immediate family being the epicenter of his loyalty.
Loki could tell all three of his boys already accepted Hela as one of their own.
They had grown much in the past nine months. Fenris, only a couple of years old, almost matched Sleipnir's height. Jormungandr, too, had gone from a baby serpent less than a foot long to spanning nearly forty feet long and five in circumference within three years. Sleipnir, physically four Asgardian years old, had already reached his max height: slightly taller than the average horse. Loki had missed part of it, part of their lives.
Something poignant washed over Loki and he blinked to keep the tears at bay. He had missed at least two birthdays, several annual celebrations, and numerous little moments of watching his sons grow up. He had traded being present in his sons' lives for a daughter born through an unwanted marriage.
He didn't blame Hela. Her mere existence made the whole ordeal, however horrendous, worth it. He loved her no less, but deep down, he knew his time with her was fleeting.
To prove it, Vincent cleared his throat, breaking the silence of the bittersweet reunion.
"We do not have much time," Vincent warned. All eyes were on the reaper, though only Loki's heart hammered in fear. "We have only delayed the inevitable; we need to devise countermeasures for when she arrives."
"She?" Frigga asked, rising to her feet. "Who is she?"
"Hela's mother," Loki said, staring at Hela's curious face. "Death."
-oOo-
Loki tried his best to explain where he had been for the last few months, and for the most part, everyone seemed to understand—everyone except Odin.
The All-Father, as he had with Loki's other children, held nothing back when expressing his anger and disappointment at Loki's apparent lack of self-restraint when it came to producing unwanted offspring.
"Again?!" Odin boomed from where he stood at the bottom step of his throne. His voice bounced off the high-arching walls of the throne room and reverberated down into Loki's ears. "This is the fourth child you have spawned, and it keeps getting worse.
"First, a damn horse. Then that shapeshifting Jotun witch, Angrboda. And now Lady Death?! You have no control and no thought or remorse for the consequences of your feral escapades." Odin jabbed an accusing finger at Loki. "You bring trouble upon us, and your brood will be the death of Asgard."
"At least Hela looks Asgardian," Thor muttered from where he stood off to the side, Jormungandr's scaly chin resting on his uncle's shoulder.
Loki shot Thor a sharp glare; Thor shrugged apologetically. Jormungandr only glared at Odin, not caring about Thor's rude remark.
"Lady Death is volatile, deceptive, inescapable. What were you thinking?" Odin bellowed.
"I didn't have a choice!" Loki shouted. Forget about a reasonable debate; he would never win an argument against the All-Father. Right now, Loki only sought to defend his children's honor. "She held me prisoner against my will. I couldn't fight her; nobody can."
"And yet you decided to kidnap her newborn, and thus, pulling Asgard into her sights."
"Hela is my daughter, too. She deserves to live. Here. On Asgard. With her brothers."
"Lady Death will stop at nothing to get what she wants." Odin's voice lowered into a low cadence, a warning of impending consequences if Loki didn't back down soon. "All of Asgard will face her wrath."
"And what was I supposed to do?" Loki spread his arms wide, indignant and at his wit's end. "Leave Hela behind?"
"Yes!"
"She's my daughter!"
"And a danger to us all."
"Odin," Frigga interjected, stepping closer to her husband, "do not be so dramatic."
Odin brushed off his wife's hand. "Use your head, woman. Lady Death is a formidable foe, one no one can beat."
The All-Father whirled to his right toward Vincent. "Return from whence you came, reaper, and take that heathen infant with you." He pointed an angry finger at where Hela slept in Frigga's gentle arms.
Frigga's grip on Hela tightened and her frown deepened in clear disdain at Odin's attitude. Vincent remained stoic despite having the king of Asgard threaten him. For someone who worked for Lady Death, Vincent probably considered all other deities insignificant and feeble compared to his queen. If the consequences of betraying Death didn't scare him, then Odin would not break Vincent's resolve.
Loki wished he had Vincent's confidence and ability to remain stoic in emotion-driven times. He did not find Odin's reaction surprising yet Loki longed for a father who supported him when Loki so clearly did not have any control over the matter of Hela's birth. Fathers should protect their children, not blame them for something they had not consented to nor had any power to prevent.
Frigga understood and did not judge him for being too weak to fight off an all-encompassing cosmic entity. Where Odin criticized every action his grandchildren committed, banned them from public view, and outright ignored them whenever they naturally wanted attention, Frigga loved her grandchildren and spoiled them rotten. She gave them snacks before bedtime, bought them lavish gifts for their birthdays, and took time out of her busy day to play with them, just like a good grandmother should always do.
Thank the Norns that Thor took after Frigga instead of Odin, but he sometimes made the occasional rude comment if he had spent enough time around Odin earlier in the day. Still, Thor slid into the role of uncle with much enthusiasm and natural protectiveness. Nobody dared to tease the kids near Thor. Not even Sif and the Warriors Three were safe from Thor's wrath if he happened to hear them say something ill-mannered toward his nephews.
Emotions ran in the family, and they couldn't do much to control it when tempers ran hot enough to contend for the throne of Muspelheim. When Odin called Hela a heathen, Thor's eyes widened in shock. Jormungandr hissed, showing his wickedly sharp fangs. Fenris growled and his ears flattened. Even mild-mannered Sleipnir swished his tail and pawed at the floor in visible resentment.
Jormungandr would be the first to break, followed by Thor, Fenris, and then Sleipnir, if Loki didn't get to Odin first.
Or if Frigga didn't step in to mediate. "They are your grandchildren, Odin, and you should treat them as such. They do not need to prove their worth to earn your affection. You never gave them a chance..."
"They are abominations."
As expected, Jormungandr lunged at Odin, his fangs dripping venom. Thor caught his nephew by the neck and struggled to hold the furious serpent back. The hiss Jormungandr released almost rumbled the floor, and he thrashed in an attempt to break from Thor's grip. They wrestled for a moment until Loki cut in.
"Jormungandr, no," Loki scolded. Even though he wanted nothing more than to smack some sense into the All-Father, fighting would accomplish nothing other than affirming the wariness around his children's existence.
"I will not tolerate such disobedience from your—"
A loud clap of thunder shook the palace, cutting Odin off.
Everyone turned to look at Thor, who smoothed off his wrinkled clothes the best he could while keeping a stern hand on Jormungandr. Thor shook his head. "That wasn't me."
Blood drained from Loki's face fast enough to make him dizzy, and he threw out an arm in an attempt to break his fall. Sleipnir slipped to his side and caught him halfway through his collapse. Loki leaned on his eldest for support while trying to slow his increasing heart rate. It hammered in his head, almost too loud to hear Vincent mutter, "She's here."
Beyond the intricate grates on the arched windows, the sky darkened into a swirling mass of green clouds. The wind battered against the walls, shaking the throne room even from its location halfway up the palace. Thunder roared again, punctuated by a flash of lime green lightning splitting the sky in two.
The floor shook once more as a final warning. Moments later the wall behind the throne exploded inward, raining down stone, metal, and glass. Part of the throne's curved horn design broke off and dented the floor when it hit.
Fog poured into the throne room and settled into a heavy blanket about knee-high from the floor. It rolled and churned in an angry swirl designed to throw them off kilter.
Another flash of green lightning severed a hole in the fog and a cloaked figure descended from the cloudy sky.
"I'll admit, Loki," Death's voice rang out, her form still concealed in the fog. "You're talented."
The fog parted like loyal guards bowing before their queen, and Death stepped through. A dark hood veiled her face in shadow, but Loki caught a glimpse of the skinless skull along her jawline: an indicator of her raw strength and pure fury. The wind swept her floor-length skirt wide, turning her into a billowing shadow. She glided smoothly past the bottom step, her feet silent as she sauntered coldly toward the group.
The tip of her curved dagger glinted in the little light left glowing along the columns. It glimmered when she pointed it at Loki and shook it like an angry parent scolding a mischievous child.
The forced smile and fake humor were not good signs of her current mood.
Oh shit.
"Those tricks of yours were impressive," Death said, her voice light. The tone suddenly shifted into a darkened hollowness, "But try something like that again and I'll cut your brother's head off and feed it to your serpentine son."
"You have no authority here, Green Witch!" Odin bellowed. He slammed his spear down for emphasis, anticipating the usual reaction of fearful respect.
Death scowled, the All-Father's display of power nothing more than an inconvenience. "I have authority wherever I want, son of Borr. Leave us; this fight is between me and your conniving son."
She flicked her wrist. An invisible force flung Odin backward into a pillar hard enough to crack the stone. He grunted and his spear clattered from his grasp.
Everyone took a collective step back. Several guards rushed into the room, ready to protect their royal family from any threat. Not even Asgard's best-trained warriors could handle this.
Death tossed them back the way they came the moment they stepped inside. Another flick of her wrist slammed the grand door shut, barricading her in with her prey. Ever valiant though done in vain, the guards banged on the doors in a desperate attempt to fulfill their orders to protect the Crown at all cost. Their futile efforts echoed in the hall, adding to the thunder rumbling outside.
Death's eyes narrowed to thin slits hidden beneath the shadow of her hood. "You took something from me, trickster. I want her back."
"Not while I still stand!" Loki summoned a dagger and shifted into a fighting stance. If she killed him, then so be it. Nobody here would call him a coward for defending his family.
Beside him, Thor hefted Mjolnir and positioned himself between the undead queen and his nephews. Odin staggered to his feet, his spear in hand again. Frigga backed away, keeping Hela tucked safely in her arms. Vincent hurried to Frigga's side, naming himself guardian of the infant princess.
"Then you will fall," Death growled.
Moving faster than anyone could react, Death lunged at Loki, her dagger aimed straight at his heart. He barely dodged the attack at the last second, earning a slice along the front of his chest instead of a hole plunged into his sternum.
Loki swept out a leg, intending to throw her off-balance. She anticipated the attack and slammed her foot into his knee, hyperextending the joint. Loki yelled in pain and shifted his weight onto his left leg to ease the throbbing in his right.
At the cry of his little brother, Thor roared and raised his hammer. It glowed electric blue and Thor let loose a blast of lightning to strike Death in the chest. The force of it launched her across the hall and into the double-wide doors at the far entrance.
Seizing the opportunity, Thor rushed to his brother's side and offered a hand for balance. "Are you alright?"
Loki accepted the help, glad to have a brief chance to take the weight off his knee, but shook his head. "We're not going to win. Not against her."
"Damn right, you're not!" Death spat. In one fluid motion, she rose to her feet as if pulled by an invisible cord around her waist. "You can't defeat nature, darling."
She sauntered closer, the fires in the candelabras attached to the columns fizzling out when she passed. The fog twisted and roiled in tandem with her footsteps. "Give me back my daughter!"
"She's my daughter, too!" Loki snarled. He brushed off Thor's help and stalked toward his supernatural wife. "Shouldn't I have a say in where she lives?!"
"She came from my womb!" Death hissed. She chucked her dagger at Loki. It whistled through the air, a death hum of a person's last breath.
"I sired her!" Loki snapped. He deflected the dagger with his own and hurled a ball of energy in retaliation.
Death dodged it; it blew a hole in a pillar behind her. Thor threw Mjolnir and it plowed her over to pin her in place on the floor. Not even her power could lift it.
Ensuring she would not escape, Loki summoned a spell to rip the banners from the walls and lash around her limbs like makeshift tethers. It wouldn't hold, but it would buy them some time.
"Mother," Loki called over his shoulder at Frigga. "Get the children out of here."
Frigga nodded, handing Hela off to Vincent to instead hoist a petrified Fenris in her arms. She ushered the other two boys toward the nearest exit.
"Oh no you don't!" Death hissed. She tore free of the banners and dissolved her body into Mjolnir's shadow. Bones cracked and tendons snapped as she pulled herself from under the hammer's weight, using the shadow as an anchor to warp her form into becoming one with the shadowy fog.
Once free, she rose to her full height, a sprout pushing through the ground. Her limbs extended and bent back to normal, a tree sturdy against even the most threatening of lightning storms.
Her hand reached out, fingers wide then snapping closed in a tight fist. Frigga shouted and dropped to the floor. Fenris tumbled from his grandmother's hold, letting out a choked-off yelp. Sleipnir and Jormungandr cried in pain and collapsed. Vincent froze, his back turned to the group until Death rotated her wrist to spin him around to face her.
"Nobody leaves unless I say you can," Death said, her voice whisper quiet yet sharp.
Harming Frigga spurred Odin into action. He bellowed and lunged at Death, his spear raised. She caught it and kicked the king back.
"I already told you," Death said, "this fight doesn't involve you."
She gripped the spear in both hands and brought it down over her knee. Gungnir snapped in two, releasing a powerful surge of energy. The resulting shockwave ripped through the hall and hurtled everyone except Vincent and Death backward. The palace rumbled down to its foundations like a shiver racing down a spine.
Death tossed the broken pieces aside and twisted her wrist to control the branches of a potted tree. One of the thicker vines curled around Odin's neck like a noose and dragged him along a column to dangle him several feet off the ground. More branches lashed his arms behind his back and bound his legs together at the ankles. The vine around his neck tightened to hold him up, immobile despite his struggles.
Thor staggered to his feet and threw his hammer. The familiar hum as it flew eased some of the tension in Loki's aching body, but it lasted only a moment. Death's magic caught it midair, a foot from her outstretched hand. An invisible force flipped it to aim the blunt edge at Thor's head and send it sailing back. It struck Thor in the forehead, knocking him down before embedding itself into the wall.
"Now, where were we?" Death said, turning her full attention to Loki.
Loki yelled and wrapped his magic around the broken chunk of the throne to heave it at Death. She raised her hands in front of her face to block the blow. The stone shattered into dust when it struck her. The fog swallowed the debris, turning the gray murky brown.
Death let out a maniacal cackle and wagged a finger at him. "You're skilled, trickster, but you're fighting a losing battle."
Loki tuned her out. He brought his arms back near his side and then thrust them forward. His magic forced the stone floor to ripple like a wave to throw her off-balance.
Instead, Death used the attack to springboard off the floor, push off halfway up a pillar, and straight down toward Loki. Loki yanked a dagger from its sheath on his hip and let the downward motion stab it into her chest. She yanked it out as they rolled and sliced a line along his cheek.
Loki hissed in pain and tried to kick her off. He only succeeded in making her drop the dagger. It dropped onto the floor as she straddled his hips and pinned his arms above his head. Sharp fingernails dug into the skin on his wrists, drawing blood.
"Doesn't this remind you something, darling?" Death cooed, her breath warm and far too close.
The tips of her hair loose from under her hood brushed against his face when she leaned down to kiss him. Loki rolled his head to the side at the last moment so her lips landed on his bloodied cheek instead of his mouth. Her lips parted and she sucked the blood from his wound.
Cheek burning, Loki twisted and bucked. For once, he had enough strength to flip them over and pin her beneath him. He snarled. She smirked.
"Oooh, feisty," Death teased, shifting her body to press further against his. She bit her bottom lip, her eyes tracing the line of his body before flickering up to analyze his face. "We should try this sometime; let you be in control."
Loki glared at her and gritted his teeth. Calling upon his magic, he summoned the largest ball of energy he could muster and slammed it straight into her torso. The resulting force concaved her chest and broke open the stone floor to drop them both into the room below.
Despite suffering an injury that would have killed anyone else, Death kicked Loki off the moment they landed in the debris. Her chest formed back to normal, bones crunching as they resettled. The fall had knocked her hood off her head; she tucked a dusty strand of hair behind her ear and narrowed her eyes.
Close enough to still touch her, Loki crawled forward. He reached out and tangled his fingers in her hair. Yanking her head upward, positioned her for a perfect right hook to her temple. The punch tore a few strands from her scalp and whipped her head to the side.
Death let out a chuckle strong enough to shake her upper body. She rolled her head to get the kinks out of her neck and settled a steady gaze on Loki.
"This is why I like you," Death laughed. Her lips parted into a grin showing her perfect, pearly white teeth. "You're not afraid of getting your hands dirty."
"You cannot fault a father for protecting his children!" Loki spat. He swayed when he attempted to stand. The ground, slippery with dust and loose rubble, caused his already injured knee to give out and drop him onto one leg.
Death remained silent, waiting for him to stand. Her intense brown eyes watched his every move from behind her tangled hair. Once he stood at full if not unsteady height, her grin spread even wider, turning crazed. The sight of it made him break out in a cold sweat and he almost collapsed again.
"And you cannot fault a mother for doing this!"
Death blasted him upward through the hole. Loki yelled and flailed, unable to stop himself from hitting the throne room's ceiling and then landing on the bottom step of the throne's dais. Dots danced in his vision and his hyperextended knee flared in agony. Bruises rippled across his skin, protesting any movement.
Around him, everyone else was either unconscious, frozen in place by Death's hold, or struggling in vain against a potted tree too strong for even the All-Father to break its bonds.
It left him to fight alone against Death, exactly what the ghastly queen had intended.
Loki blinked to clear the blackness threatening to creep in. Death rose from the hole blasted into the middle of the floor and glided gracefully across the hall to stop a few feet from the younger prince.
Her black boots came into view first followed by the hem of her dress settling around the leather. The dust on her outfit made her blend in better with the pale fog still hovering like a sunken cloud blanket low along the floor. Her clothes had changed from when he last saw her in the Afterlife. Intentional or not, both outfits were terrifying, but the hooded dress more than sold the idea of her being the absolute ruler over all grim reapers.
"Have you had enough?" Death said. She glared down at him, fists balled at her sides. The wind billowed her hood, once again on her head, around her like a bird fluffing its plumage to intimidate unwanted attention.
"No," Loki said.
Death tossed her head and raised an eyebrow. Loki hauled himself to his feet and tried his best to ignore the dizziness enveloping his mind. His fighting stance would earn him a long lecture from his training instructor. He couldn't put much weight on his injured knee and his legs wouldn't stop shaking from the strain of holding himself upright. Dust clogged his throat and the fog did nothing to ease the darkness seeping into the edges of his vision.
"Well, if you want to be that way," Death mused. She spread her arms wide and curled her fingers into a fist, slowly pulling her hands inward. Around her, every limp body went tense, and an anguished choir of pained groans crescendoed.
Odin thrashed in his bonds. Thor seized from where he had tried to crawl on the floor toward Mjolnir. Frigga and the three boys arched their backs, their mouths open in silent screams. Vincent stood frozen, barely visible tremors proving his attempted resistance. Hela slept through it all, unharmed.
"What are you doing?" Loki gasped.
"Detaching their souls from their bodies," Death said. "I have the power to wipe their souls from existence. They will not make it to the Afterlife if they die."
She gave one final tug and a half dozen colorful orbs separated from their respective bodies. Everyone went limp, all color draining from their faces. The orbs sailed past Vincent and Hela to circle above Death's upturned palm. She trailed a finger along the curved edge of one of them, a small, heartless smile tugging on her painted lips.
"Odin has given me numerous souls over the centuries, even worked as a death deity at one point," Death said. "It's a shame his life came to such an untimely end."
"My queen—" Vincent interjected, his voice hoarse from the effort of speaking.
Death brought a finger to her lips to shush him. "You and I will have words later." To Loki, she offered, "Their souls for my daughter."
Loki shook off the horror of watching his family's souls get ripped from their bodies and tried to control his rapid breathing. It wasn't every day Lady Death got involved in removing lives from the census. From the few months Loki had spent in the Afterlife, Death let the reapers do most of the work of collecting souls. Yet, she had killed a reaper in the gardens, and if she had done so for participating in a cruel prank, she had every ounce of motivation to do the same to Asgard's royal family.
"They have nothing to do with this," Loki finally managed to choke out. Fighting wouldn't work. Pleading might do the trick.
"Oh, but they do." Death gave a toothy grin. "You got them involved, and so they will pay the price for your selfishness."
"Loving my daughter and wanting her to have a better life is not selfish. Using an unconsenting man to father her just so you would have an heir whenever you get bored is selfish."
Death blinked. Then she frowned. "Fine. You made your choice."
She shoved the orbs into one giant glowing ball and squeezed her hands together in front of her chest. Even though the bodies lay still, agonized screams resonated from the mass of colors, piercing Loki's heart sharper than a dagger.
Tears pooled in Loki's eyes and when one finally rolled down his cheek and painted a salty trail into the bloody slice, he broke.
"Stop!" Loki shouted.
Death paused, her mouth open at the beginning of a smile. She quirked a brow and tilted her head in impatience.
"You would work so hard to defend a family that's not even truly yours?" she asked.
"Wha—" Loki breathed. His head swam, and he blinked to clear the tears from his vision.
"Oh, darling. Your naivety…" Death laughed. "It's almost adorable."
Loki shook his head. "Why don't you just kill me?"
"Because I loved you," Death said. Her hands loosened around the pulsating sphere, her eyes turning sad. "Maybe I still do. We made a pact; we are connected until our bond is broken. You agreed to it during our vows."
"Vows you forced me to speak." Loki jutted out his chin, gaining enough confidence to sneer.
Death tsked. "Aren't we past that? I came here for Hela, but I will not hesitate to claim others if you do not give me what I want."
Nobody could beat Death; Loki knew it. Fighting her would only bring further pain and unnecessary harm to those who had no part in his decision to steal Hela from the Afterlife.
One life for many. Death wouldn't stop, not even if all of Asgard perished at her hands.
A lump formed in his throat, and he swallowed despite the pain of dusty dryness coating the inside. More tears stung his eyes, and he sniffed.
He could never win. Death wouldn't let Hela go, but Loki had to if he wanted to save his family.
Death would kill them, destroy their souls, and forever erase them from existence if he did not relent. They did not deserve a grisly death nor the chance of the Afterlife barring them from ever entering and living a life eternal.
I'm sorry.
Finally, finally, he dropped his shoulders and hung his head in defeat.
"Will you be kind to her?" Loki asked the floor. Looking at her would prove her right, so he chose to stare at his boots instead. "Raise her right? Will she know she is loved?"
"I will raise her in the ways of the Afterlife," Death agreed, her voice softening. "I will prepare her for a throne, perhaps the Nordic realms Odin and Freyja abandoned, but yes, she will be loved. When it is your time, you will see her again."
"You will do that?" Loki asked, raising his head to meet her steady gaze. Dust mingled in the fog, turning the clouds a murky brown. Bodies of his family lay scattered around the throne room in various positions of collapse.
Odin hung by his neck along a pillar, branches tangling his body like an insect caught in a web. Thor lay face down below the king, his fingers inches away from Mjolnir's hilt jutting out a pile of rubble.
On Loki's right, Vincent stood near the base of the throne, his arms locked to hold Hela's quiet form. The reaper's gray eyes were wide and shiny with unshed tears. Something must have knocked his hat off because it sat crumpled at his feet; he couldn't move to grab it.
Around the reaper, Frigga lay on her side, a hand on Fenris's large back. Jormungandr's curved body had curled into a tight coil almost frozen in a striking position. Sleipnir's many legs splayed out at odd, uncomfortable angles. A chunk of stone pinned his tale; thank the Norns it had missed the horse's body.
Nobody moved. Even the wind had gone still, leaving only the slightest breeze to gently swirl the dusty fog.
"And you will leave us alone?" Loki asked. He couldn't tear his eyes from the luminant mass of souls held in Death's hands. It pulsed in time with his heartbeat: a half dozen lives hanging in the balance.
"I promise to never intervene with your life, or anyone in your royal family, ever again."
"Including Sigyn," Loki added.
"Including Sigyn," Death repeated with a slight nod. "You will not see me until you die a death not caused by my hand."
Loki closed his eyes and heaved in a deep breath. He felt Death approach; heat radiated from the souls still in her hands.
He opened his eyes to find her face inches from his. She leaned forward to press her parted lips over his closed ones to seal the deal with a kiss. Loki squeezed his eyes shut and let his mind become blank. Thinking hurt too much and left an ache in both his mind and his heart.
The overwhelming heat of the souls pressed between their bodies suddenly dissipated and a collective gasp of air rang out around the feuding couple.
Loki let Death pull away first, too afraid that if he broke the kiss first she would consider the deal invalid. Instead of the expected anger, Death's eyelashes fluttered as she observed him.
"Too bad you wouldn't behave. Guess that's what I get for liking bad boys," Death purred. She trailed a sharp, painted fingernail along his jaw and flicked it under his chin as she stepped back.
Tossing her cloak over her shoulder, she fixed her hood and strode to the center of the room. She spun on her heel and smiled at Loki as she opened her hand and closed it again to yank the rigid Vincent to her side. His shoes glided across the floor, still frozen stiff.
"Goodbye Loki," Death said. She summoned her dagger and jabbed it into the air behind her. A rift appeared inside the slice: a gateway to the Afterlife.
She turned to step through, Vincent in tow.
"Wait," Loki called after her.
Death paused midstep and turned halfway to face him, her hood obscuring her expression.
"Please," Loki begged, voice wavering. Tears fell freely down his face, "Let me hold my daughter. One last time."
Death hesitated and for a moment Loki thought she would leave without fulfilling his request. But then she lifted Hela from Vincent's arms and walked over to Loki.
"You have two minutes," Death said. She handed him their daughter and backed away to give them some privacy.
Loki turned his back toward his ex-wife and stared down at Hela. She had awoken at some point but had not made any noise of distress during the whole battle. Her green-gray eyes immediately locked onto Loki's face and her mouth moved in the hint of a smile.
Loki smiled back though it did not meet his tear-filled eyes. A droplet rolled down his chin and splashed onto Hela's blanket.
"I'm so sorry," Loki whispered to his infant daughter. "I have failed you."
Hela just stared and wiggled to lay in a more comfortable position.
"Be good for your mother," Loki muttered. "She's an absolute bikkja but she loves you. I love you, too, Hela. I know you're too young, but remember that; I love you." He sniffed. "I suppose we were always destined for this…"
Death's voice from behind him and a firm hand on his shoulder made him jump, "Time's up, Loki. You need to let her go."
Loki squeezed his eyes shut and held his breath in an attempt to reign in a whimper of grief. He raised Hela and leaned down to kiss her on the forehead.
Death's hands slid under his and gently guided Hela's swaddled body from his hold, and his life. He wanted more time, but Death wouldn't give it.
Hela settled naturally in her mother's arms though her head rolled toward her father and her eyes stayed focused on him.
"Goodybe Hela," Loki choked out. "I love you."
Death turned away, angling Hela from his view. She stepped through the rift, Vincent close behind. Once they departed, the rift sealed closed behind them as if sewn shut by an invisible thread. Death, Vincent, and his baby girl were finally gone—forever until his dying day.
Surrounded by the broken remnants of a battle that was lost from the beginning and a family lying unconscious from being on the brink of death, Loki sank to his knees and sobbed.
Odin and Freyja used to rule over Valhalla and Folkvangr (another Nordic afterlife), respectively. Freyja is a different goddess than Frigg(a), and she appears in my story "An Eight-Legged What?!" if you're interested. Jormungandr and Thor fought in the myths where they both wound up killing each other in a stalemate. (Don't worry, they're not going to kill each other any time soon, if ever). Odin also hung himself from Yggdrasil to gain knowledge. Odin isn't going to gain anything from being hanged this time except for a really bad headache and a foul temper, which he already has but I digress. Angrboda is a giantess in the myths and is the mother of Jormungandr, Fenris, and Hela, but I obviously changed Hela's mom to Lady Death instead.