for "mini_nanowrimo" hence no friends lock 5
3960 ♥ 21000 (18.86%)
I played with the names again. I switched from Hella to Hel. Last time I made it Hella to differentiate between the half dead girl and a place but I guess I didn't care as much this time. Also I North-Americanized Balder's name. Don't care. My spell check hates it either way.
The Golden Age of Asgard
Loki has his back pressed to the cool, damp rock of the cave entrance. He is shadowed and with his eyes closed, he concentrates on the steady drip of distance water. He looks calm and collected outwardly but inside he is forming a plan. It is his nature, his way. There is a vague wonderment at Odin, who surly must have asked the Norns about Loki's part in this madness, for letting him come along with this journey. Odin was the one who pulled Loki to the Aesir. Odin is the one with first hand experience with his three terrifying creatures he calls his children. And still, Loki is here, at the heart of the quest for truth, plotting.
A hand is placed on Loki's arm and though he tries not to show it, he is shocked into opening his eyes. The maiden is there in front of him. Her two sisters are only steps away, finishing their consultation with the Father of the Gods. She rubs his arm gently with her hand and standing on the tips of her toes, she presses her lips to the lobe of his ear. He doesn't bother to conceal the shudder than runs through him.
"Please don't do it," is all she whispers and walks away. Loki stands, mouth still agape, as her sisters walk by a few minutes later. He can only just hear Odin call his name above the sounds of his rapidly beating heart.
Later, when Loki suggests they part ways, he knows that Odin knows in how easily he lets him leave. Once again, he wants to look over his shoulder but does not. Instead he lifts his arms, turning himself into a rook and takes to the skies.
- - -
Odin keeps his head down while he walks. Huginn and Muninn fly around him to take orders and tell tales. He gives them each messages and for once, he separates them. Huginn ahead to the South and Muninn to the East. He calls his wolves, Freki and Geri, to him. They are his loyal pets but live a double life as the guards at the gates of Hel's realm. He consults with them and then sends them away again. Although he does not tire, he calls on Sleipnir, his eight legged horse to bring him the rest of the way. Odin feels a great tension in the air and although he can not speak to Sleipnir the way he does with his other pets, the horse's head bobs and it lets out a low whine. He give it a consoling pat on the neck but offers no words of comfort.
- - -
Loki is quicker. Loki has destiny on his side. Hel stands before him, half darkly beautiful and half dead and decaying flesh. She smells of rotting fruit, sickly sweet and decomposition. She has one slender hand, a musician's hand, on her hip. She has one perfectly arched eyebrow raised over her green eye. Her other side hangs limply, her red eye covered in a milky film, although not blind.
"Father are you sure?" Loki laughs at the question, he laughs at his daughter. Hel is not impressed by the show and turns away.
"My sweet child, this is already foretold. How could I be anything but sure?" Hel nods but seems uneasy.
"There are loopholes. They will come for him."
"Yes, yes, of course. The three crones have already sent Odin home with a little trick," Loki leans back against the wall, hands behind his head. "I don't know if you know this about your old father but I am known as quite the trickster myself." Loki's smile is feral. Hel relents, ready to listen.
- - -
Odin paces in his palace, in front of his throne Hlidskjalf. Frigg, his wife, is nowhere to be found and Odin has banished her three maidens from the palace. He considers what The Norns told him and his considers alternatives. He has been strictly told not to concern his wife and yet he does not know how he can carry this burden. Frigg is much stronger than she appears. Standing at the windowsill, he spots her in the distance. He watches her, watches the way her dress floats around her feet. She is carrying a basket of Idunn's golden apples and she is the most beautiful woman he has ever seen. He knows right then, he can't tell her. He could never bear to be the one to tell her the prophecy on her son's life. As if she knows he is thinking about her, she looks up to the window from the walkway and raises her hand to wave.
"I love you, Frigg"