“I am not a kitty that you can simply pet or order around.” For a moment, my words must have shocked him, like he’d never met a woman not want his attention.
Thor wasn’t worth my time, as he’d shown before Loki, that I’d not been worth his attention. Now that someone else had shown interest in me, and was no longer available, I was supposed to throw myself on his … ahem, hammer to forget the god who had sparked a fire. Nope! Forget the brawn. He’d made me an option, and I didn’t like being an option at all. Even if marriage was commanded.
“Take a step closer and I’ll see if I’m strong enough to lift your hammer and beat you with it. I am not an imp to be commanded, a prize to be won, or one of your little flighty women that you think you can simply bed and who will hero-worship you. You. Will. Not. Force my hand, dear Thor, son of Odin, or you will rue the day you made such an unwise choice.” I clenched my teeth so hard I thought they might break.
He must have noticed how determined I was for him to keep his distance.
He nodded, and I turned away.
Time was running out. I wasn’t truly safe anywhere, it seemed.
With each new step, I had to try to crumble that ball of pain tighter into a useless wad. There was more at stake than just my hurt feelings, or the fact I’d been betrayed. I still had a world to save from those who’d once been my friends, and without proper training, I’d fall right back to where I was before—believing the lies, feeling the hurt.
Unlike before, I heard his retreating footsteps. Just as I was about to leave a blue flower showed up at my feet. No matter how gorgeous Loki was, and the memory of his touch, taste even, it couldn’t fix what was broken. With a fleeting glance, I left the flower there on the sands and walked away, in the opposite direction of Thor.
What good was a broken heart if it could never mend?
On my walk, my thoughts pinged to the mystery of Harley? Where was he?
When the essence, that many considered the soul, departed, the great warriors were taken to Valhalla, and Freyja would choose her cut from the soldiers first, then Odin would receive his last. Otherwise, they were to head to Helheim, but if Loki was telling me to find Harley that meant his essence wasn’t in Helheim, he had to be here.
I could either tap dance around it all or ask the only ally I had in this place for more information. Everyone here had their alliances. And to cross Odin or Freyja would be the last crossing I ever made. I gulped.
But Heimdall, he might be willing to let me know, as he could hear a blade of grass growing, and see into the realms. And as the protector of this one, he’d know for sure.
Determined, I made my way to the gate where Heimdall towered.
I needed to remain calm. This wasn’t about me finding my happiness or allowing my ambition or subjugation to be the reason that propelled me forward. A part of me still didn’t see the good in the gods. They said they cared, but then did everything they could to be duplicitous.
Something within me had morphed. For so long, I wanted Thor to see me. I’d second-guessed my entire life and being, but when I closed my eyes, the galaxy sparkled and twinkled. They wanted me to be a locked-up key, only used when they so desired.
I wanted freedom, and to fly, I’d need to walk in that defiance, to escape even. Pulling my shoulders back, I cleared my throat and entered the gatehouse where Heimdall stared at an extra-large milky quartz, a moonstone.
“Oh, Lady Sif, I did not see you coming,” he said.
He stood at his full height, but still, I didn’t feel liked I’d shrunk in his presence.
“Where do you come from?” I asked.
“I am many and one, but that is not why you are here?”
“But, will it help me to understand this place?”
“The gods?”
“And Lady Hel, Loki even?” I asked.
He turned away from the screen, stared at me, and grimaced. A shadow of sympathy passed over his concerned face. Of all of the gods I’d met, he seemed the most genuine.
“As Odin’s son, I’m honor-bound to Asgard, and to protect this place.”
“But surely, you remember them,” I pressed, “and how things were, as you see everything, Heimdall.”
He nodded. “Things are either light or dark, but not medium. The prophecies of old are easily reiterated, and lead to certain consequences. And those who are different are not easily accepted. You’ve seen it here yourself. Those who drift to darkness cannot be mourned, dear Sif. Take a look.” I moved forward towards the moonstone. “Your gifts will let you see even that which I know nothing of.”
On the screen behind him, I stepped forward and watched an image appear in the milky whiteness: a young girl with stringy black hair shielding one side of her face, wrapping her arms around herself as if they would shield her from any pain or rebuff. She sat on a large boulder, as a puppy gnawed on a stick, and a snake slithered along the boulder, climbing up behind her.
“No, you will not take my children,” said a giantess with bright red hair, bluish in coloring. She pulled back the string in her bow and pointed it at the approaching Aesir soldiers. Dressed in wooly fur and leather armor, she aimed. “I will kill you all before I let you take my children,” she shouted.
“Angrboda,” Odin’s authoritative voice cut through a growing wind, and the Aesir soldiers parted. Odin walked forward, also dressed as if to do battle, in shiny gold armor, with an ornate helmet that reflected his All-father status. “No blood needs to be spilled today. Allow your children to come with us. They will not be physically harmed.”
“I would rather die than have that happen,” she spat.
“As you wish,” Odin countered and nodded, then Loki raced forward.
“Whoa,” Loki began, hands up, stepping between the pointy edges of the Aesirs’ swords and Angrboda’s arrow. “This need not happen.” He lowered his voice to a whisper.
“Loki, I will not see my children hurt,” Angrboda announced angrily.
Loki turned towards her and ran his fingers through his hair. “And I will not allow them to be hurt. Our children will always remain in my heart, like yours, and will be taken care of.”
“Just like they take care of you?”
I felt like I was intruding looking at this intimate scene of Loki and Angrboda; seeing the way they interacted with one another.
Loki flinched. “If we deny them, they will kill them, and that I will never allow. Dear, please, we must let them go.”
“Promise me that you won’t let the gods hurt them.”
He leaned forward and whispered, “If they do, I will hurt them.”
He slowly turned away but stopped and stared and, for a moment I wondered if he could see me looking on, for that broad smile I knew spread across his face.
“Dear, blood-brother,” he announced turning back to Odin. “You need not threaten the dear woman. She, as I, see that you are only doing what is right for the kingdom. Surely, you will grant my children the same courtesy and not do them any harm.”
“They are still alive, Loki, although I foresee the havoc they will become. I have done so because of the bond we share, and trust that you too will act honorably.”
“Like you, I too am a father, and these children are innocent of anything that may come. This event could be the catalyst that might shape them into whatever it is your visions threaten.”
I nodded, hoping that Loki’s words had some sway and that Odin would listen. Destiny could still be carved out; it wasn’t a solid mass that remained unmoved.
Loki moved over to the boulder where his children rested. He touched Hel’s blackened cheek and kissed her on the forehead, scratched behind Fenrir’s ear until the pup flopped out his tongue and began to wag his tail, and for Jormungandr, he stroked him between his bright green eyes. “Dear children, if you remember anything, know that you are loved. And should you forget it, know that within you is greatness, a fire that consumes us all.”
Loki stepped away and took Angrboda�
��s hand and dragged her behind him back into the woods. I could hear her loudly weeping.
“Come now, men, let’s get on with it.” And Odin’s soldier approached on command.
This was the beginning, the spark of Ragnarok.
I dared not blink, knowing that I might miss some key element of what had once transpired, and with this revelation, the moonstone began to close until it was once again solid.
“So, you are telling me that if I don’t find Harley, Lady Hel is going to have another reason to go after Odin?” I asked out of breath. “But where is Harley?”
“I don’t know what the stone has shown you,” Heimdall began, “but if he is not with Lady Hel, and not in Valhalla, or in Asgard with us, where else could he be?”
In all of my time of being here, I’d never considered that Harley might be here too.
Loki had said that I needed to find Harley; he would be the only way for us to forego this battle—but could this be a trap, too? Maybe the point wasn’t to have Harley by her side but to find another way to rule, to command respect from the gods, too?
She was born afflicted and hated for it, and nothing that she did made her welcomed there in Asgard, not even being the Goddess of Death.
“Heimdall, I understand. Folkvang?”
Heimdall remained mum. He then turned away as if to ignore me—it seemed to be what the gods did here, only glance upon you if they had something to say or wished to be heard. But maybe his assisting me amounted to treason, too—another reason for me to get my answers and get out of here.
With no goodbyes, I raced back towards Freyja’s hall, hopeful; maybe I could find the one man who could calm Hel down.
Chapter 16
Thor
“Enough enemies are traveling around the universe. I must protect Midgard, Father,” Thor argued. He paced before Odin’s throne in the golden and grandiose, but otherwise empty, throne room.
Odin watched his every move. Thor could feel his dad’s hawkish gaze on him. Power emanated from the throne and felt like heat flowing from an open flame.
“Correct, and what you don’t know, dear son, is that the universe stands on the brink of destruction,” Freyja argued. “Hugin and Munin have returned with word of the threat in Midgard. As you have been distracted by things because of the woman who now resides here.”
“It must be quite official for you to bring me here to inform me of this.” Thor crossed his arms. His large muscles flexing.
“It is so you can see it? Confirm,” Freyja said.
In the center of the floor, the image of Njord materialized, dressed in his usual iridescent merman crown and cloak with its netting and scales.
“Njord has gone missing,” Odin began.
“He often heads off,” Thor countered.
“Yes, but this time, he has not returned,” Freyja interjected, “and my father has not returned any communications.”
Thor could see the angst on Freyja’s face at the thought of worrying about her father.
“I need you to head to Midgard and find out what is going on,” Odin commanded. There was neither hesitation in his voice, nor urgency. Odin didn’t ask or make pleas. He commanded. As the ruler of Asgard, he could command them all to act, and then each of the gods would. And they would each call their respective believers, armies to fight, but they needed for it to not get to that point, to quell the rising tensions of governing the realms.
“There are enough things for me to do here,” Thor countered and raised his hands, palms up. “The threats in Midgard have not been completely extinguished. There are pockets of magic that remain, and new enemies will arise in those pockets if given a chance.”
“We know, but Njord is of the uttermost importance.”
“Why do I fear there is more you are not saying?” Thor asked.
“Because there is. We’ve heard the rumors, but not from the Vanir or the council in Alfheim. Only a simple report from our guards as to what is happening there. We might indeed have to take a harder stance on the Dark Elves. Their access to the gods has often blinded them to the reality of what the gods are about.”
The elves had been poisoned over the years, growing in their wish to dominate, to become demigods in their recognition.
“Is this the beginning of a revolt?” Thor asked. “In Midgard, Frost Giants are breaking through, and you want me to head off to Alfheim?”
“No, you misunderstand. It is more like the sparking of a coupe in Alfheim. A faction in their government has pushed for more restrictions, fewer freedoms. The rise of factions based on a social credit system, a system that has neither space nor reason to support our pantheon.”
“Haven’t we curved any uprising by quashing the Dark Elves?” Thor asked.
Freyja quirked her eyebrow. “No, although they have returned underground, they are not the threat at this time. The Dark Elves will regroup, but it is more important that you put your attention to the most imminent threat. Locate Njord, and head to Alfheim and ascertain the truth. Take the woman and Kara with you.”
The truth was always fleeting, two-sided, and so far gone that even the truth wouldn’t stop this ball that Hel had begun to roll.
Chapter 17
Lady Hel
In the war room where Lady Hel sat with her family members and her Commanding General, Siegfried stood to the side, while the others sat along the rectangular table, discussing tactics.
The general voiced his concern. His rich baritone voice carried. “My Lady, our scouts have returned and brought back news. It would seem that the prince, Thor, shall return to Midgard, and the key is to accompany him.”
Lady Hel didn’t believe in dawdling, even when it came to taking over the world. She could flip through history and find overwhelming evidence of strong women; women forced to fight for what they wanted, what they could do, what they could overcome. And out on the fringes, there were those women who helped women; even the human Boudicca didn’t succeed in fighting back the gods on her own.
“Contact the Mórrígan,” she commanded the general. Mórrígan, a goddess of the Celtic pantheon was one of Lady Hel’s only friends, since her time in dealing with the Fae and elves. If anyone knew of the crown’s power, it would be her. She was, after all, death incarnate, as well as the grandmother of the Tuatha De’Danann, the fairy folks, and possessed knowledge that they would need.
She watched the general leave, and her father then turned to her.
“Do you find it wise to get others involved in what should be ours?” Loki asked.
“No one is going to put us in the corner again, dear father. And the more alliances we can close, the more things will improve our standing. We must not rush towards Ragnarok to procure that which we want.” She rose from her seat at the head of the table and moved closer to where Loki, Vali, and Fenrir continued to watch the on-goings of the earth as time rewound in the large mirror. “But it would take ages for us to locate the useful portal base off of some prospect.”
She began to massage Loki’s shoulders. “Relax, dear father. She has more in common with you, as she is a shape-shifter, after all. She might be what you need to cleanse your palate from that human.”
Loki bristled and jerked away. “You do not need to mock me, dear daughter.” He smiled, but only showed his teeth, in more of a grimace than one of nicety. “You do not need my presence, and I have more things to handle in this plot,” he muttered and shifted out of the room.
“It’s good that he left,” Hel said, “dear brother, as I need to tell you what I have planned.”
“You're either being super nice or super conniving,” Fenrir barked.
“Always. I need you to prepare to travel.”
“Me, a talking wolf? Do you think I should carry my luggage in my mouth?” He began to laugh. The raspy sound of a hyena filtered through the air.
“No, but it will behoove you to shift to a human form.” She snapped her fingers, and green magic wafted from her fingertips and wrapped a
round him like he was a piece of furniture, and it a lovely green bow. The magic cloaked him. It lifted him up until his paws turned into hands and feet, his tail disappeared. His face lost its snout and instead took on that of a classic Roman nose, which had been broken and healed a few times with thin lips that rested between a trimmed mustache, full beard, and wavy locks. He stood tall and towered over her.
“No, no, that will not do. You need to look like Napoleon, and not some Roman statue.” Again, she snapped her fingers, and this time, his six-foot-five figure shrunk to five-foot-seven inches, and his masculine features took on a more delicate touch.
“I’d prefer my former self.”
“Well, for my plan to work, you are to become Napoleon, and that requires you to look like him.”
“He could just wear an amulet,” Vali interjected.
Lady Hel shook her head. “No, that would be too easy to get rid of. No, you are to be as close in appearance as Napoleon so that we can dispose of the true one. I shall send one your way who you are to cherish, take care of.”
“Who?”
“The Dragon. As we need her to yield and you will make that happen.”
“The Dragon? Your son’s beloved?”
Hel nodded. “But there is more, and if I can get Mórrígan to agree, she can provide the guards to ensure that you don’t mess this up with your temper.”
“Are you afraid I’ll eat her or them?” Again, he laughed as though he’d not had the opportunity to laugh in a very long time. For a brief moment, her heart swelled. How long had he been alone and laughed at shadows until it drove him closer and closer to madness?
“No, I’m afraid you will mess this up for us all. I should rethink this.” When family was incarcerated, we’d all served time together. He might have been alone in that cave, but for all of those years, it was almost as if she’d served time alongside him. Seeing him free, taking in the new technologies and changes, she knew that her words would have little effect. He’d be too busy making up for lost time as soon as she let him loose. To be free again, what a pleasure that could promise.
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