Chapter 2 – Helheim

Leaving behind the cave, leaving behind the sea, leaving Midgard, Sigyn and the two humans walked along Helvegr, across the bridge Gjallarbrú over the roaring river of Gjöll, past the giantess Móðguðr, until finally, they arrived in the vast hall of Hel, ruler of Helheim and the dead that live there.

There is no sun here to light up the place, but unlike the cave by the cliffs, it is not damp at least. It is quite nice, actually. Peaceful, in a way. Candles are lined up on every perch in the walls, their wax running down the sides and giving the walls a soft, white look, of almost being alive. In huge piles scattered along the back wall lies jewelry of all kinds. Amber, clay, bone, bronze; arm bands, belt buckles, necklaces, cloak clasps; large and rich, small and plain, from great warriors, from small children. The flickering light of the candle makes the color of the amber dance in red golden shades across the wax white walls, and the bronze glints happily in small flashes that cannot help but draw the eye. It is a magical sight to behold, for sure, but the people here ignore it completely, as if they have grown accustomed to the softly flickering lights.

The people are as varied as the jewelry in the piles, old and young, rich and poor, all of them now sit side by side at the long table laden with all types of food, from the honey glazed, whole roasted wild boar, to simple eggs – and, of course, though Heidrun is grassing peacefully on the roof of Valhalla, mead a plenty, for it is no use being dead if you cannot enjoy it.

At the center of the table sits a woman with half a face. By that I mean half of her face is an actual face, with an eye and an ear and everything else belonging to half a face, but the other half is dead and rotted and no longer resembles what any sane person would describe as a face. This is Hel, goddess of death and ruler of Helheim, daughter of Loki and Angrboda.

Next to her sits her exact opposite: a young man with a head full of lively curls, a charming, full smile, and most noticeable, of course, and intact face. This is Baldur, god of light, son of Odin and Frigg. A thousand years ago he had a nightmare that he was going to die. Long story short, his mother went to all the realms and begged a promise from every living thing that they would never hurt Baldur, and every living thing agreed – or, almost every living thing. For some reason, whether it was forgetfulness of disregard, the Mistletoe, a harmless little plant, was never asked, and therefore never gave its promise. The gods made a new game to amuse themselves, in which they threw or short objects at Baldur, each object changing its path before it could hit Baldur, and therefore no harm ever befell him. That is, until the day where an old woman came and asked the blind Hodr, Baldur’s brother, why he was not participating in the fun. She handed him a bow and arrow and helped him aim it. When the arrow, made of mistletoe, pierced Baldur’s heart and killed him, the gods concluded that the old woman had been none other than Loki in disguise. For this crime Loki was imprisoned in the cave by the sea.

This is the scene that Sigyn, Max and Ian now walk into (Loki, being a snake, and being tied around Sigyn’s arm, doesn’t walk anywhere, of course.)

For someone still alive to walk into Helheim is quite a feat. Last man who did it was Hermod, when he came to plead with Hel to let Baldur go back to the land of the living. This Hel agreed to, if all living things would cry a tear for Baldur. As is evident from Baldur’s continued presence here, this did not happen. One Jotun woman, by the name of Tokk, refused to shed a single tear. This woman, of course, is widely believed to, once again, be none other than Loki himself in disguise. Of course, Loki being the master of disguise, the gods had no proof that it was really him behind it, but that hadn’t stopped them from capturing him and chaining him up in the cave.

“I seek an audience with the queen of Helheim,” Sigyn says loudly, though she could have whispered and still be heard, so quite is the hall at the sight of the newcomers. One could hope that the politeness of the request would leave Hel more likely to grant it, perhaps that is even what Sigyn hoped, but there is still the matter of Sigyn being an Asgardian and married to Loki – something which was denied Angrboda.

As one could possibly expect, Hel laughs scornfully.

“You? Seek an audience? With me?” she laughs, and an unnatural, fearful even, hush falls over the hall. “Surely such a display could only mean Ragnarök is upon us!” Hel states scornfully. Now, of course, there is no mention of Sigyn in the foretelling of Ragnarök, nor many mentions of Hel in regard to it – in that time her brothers will play far more important roles than her, Fenrir eating Odin and Jormungandr killing Thor. It is true though, that Sigyn and Hel in one room does seem as close to the end of the world as anything. I for one cannot blame Hel for her disbelief, nor do I think Sigyn does.

“I have come to strike a bargain with you,” Sigyn elaborates. Hel tilts her head, wondering at the woman in front of her.

“So the day has finally come. The loyal Sigyn, the woman who stood by her husband for a thousand years, has finally come to beg for the lives of her children?” A young man with jet black hair sitting halfway down the right side of the long table turns around to look behind him, the wolf at his feet mimicking his interest. Sigyn catches the eye of her son and sends him a soft, loving smile. A thousand years ago, when Loki was captured after the death of Baldur, Odin turned Vali into a wolf and let him eat his brother Nari, after which the gods butchered Vali and turned his intestines into the chains that were used to bind Loki.

Hel carries an almost mocking expression on her face, but it seems put there deliberately, almost like a defense, or like someone trying to prove themselves superior. “I shall give you the same deal I gave Baldur’s family,” she says. “If you can persuade every living thing to cry for your sons, I shall give them back to you.” The man and the wolf both look back at their queen. They don’t look all that surprised, nor do they look very invested in the idea of leaving. They look… content. Perhaps they would have preferred a simple visit from their mother, not a fool hearted rescue mission. But Sigyn isn’t backing down, she looks Hel straight in the eyes, both the regular, brown one, and the empty eye socket, and she doesn’t flinch.

Frigg almost succeeded in the task, but Baldur was beloved by all, whether they had met him on not. There were none as kind, loving, and generous as he. He was the epitome of beauty, both inside and out. Vali and Nari on the other hand… Well, for one thing, the humans barely remember the old gods anymore, and even when they did, Nari and Vali would not have been high on their list of priorities, no child of Loki’s would. For another, none of the gods raised a finger to stop Odin from killing them in the first place, so why would any of them help now? And, of course, Sigyn would be hard pressed to convince any of the Jotun’s to help bring two Asgardians back to life, not even if they were technically half Jotuns, on their father’s side. The dwarfs would be indifferent too, as would the plants and the animals most likely. It seems like Sigyn was more likely to achieve the opposite of Frigg – instead of only one living thing refusing, Sigyn would have only one living thing crying: herself. One would, under any circumstances, be hard pressed to get a tear out of Loki.

“That is not the deal I want,” Sigyn proclaims calmly. Hel looks up with a smile, now clearly astonished, and yet still with that mocking hint.

“It is the deal I offered, you may take it or leave it,” she replies with an air of indifference, and yet there’s a hint of curiosity playing in her good eye now.

“Here is my deal,” Sigyn replies calmly, taking no note of Hel’s put-on airs. “I help you free your brother, and make sure no Asgardian ever harms any of you again, and you shall give me my sons back.” Hel’s mouth falls open in shock.

“Your plan is to free Fenrir? But that would start Ragnarök, the end of the world!”

“Asgard will never allow this,” Balder says with calm conviction.

“What Asgard doesn’t know, they cannot stop,” Sigyn argues.

“Odin will know,” Balder assures her.

“A thousand years have passed. Odin has no reason to send Hugin and Mugin to spy on the cave, not as long as Heimdall occasionally hears Loki scream. As long as Loki screams and the earth shakes, they will assume everything is good – as it has been since they locked him in there.”

“But Loki doesn’t scream, and the earth doesn’t shake, and yet you are here,” Hel states as if she has located the paradox that will undo them all.

“I know,” Sigyn says simply without offering an explanation. Hel leans back in her chair, her eye gliding over Sigyn as if she is a puzzle to solve, a secret to unlock.

“You are mad,” she states in the end. “No one can free Fenrir, it isn’t possible.” When Loki’s three children by Angrboda started to become too big, too threatening to Asgard, Odin had Hel exiled to Helheim, Jormungandr cast in the sea where he has now grown long enough to reach all the way around earth and bite himself in the tail, and Fenrir he had chained – though, not easily. Fenrir is his father’s son in the best possible way – he has Loki’s wits. The Asgardians told him it was a game, to see whether Fenrir or Thor was the strongest. They had a chain made that even Thor himself could not break, and they wanted to put it around Fenrir’s neck to see if he could. Fenrir agreed, and the first chain he broke easily. When they came with the second chain, he was suspicious. He had already proven once that he was stronger than Thor, why did he need to do it again? But the Asgardians promised that if he couldn’t break it, they would let him right out. Fenrir agreed, and they put the chain around his neck. This chain was harder, but it too broke. The third time they came to him, it was with a chain so small it was like sewing thread. Fenrir refused to let them tie him up, saying he had already proven himself twice now. But the Asgardians laughed and asked if he was really afraid of so small a chain? After much back and forth, Fenrir finally agreed – but only if they gave him collateral. He would wear the chain and try to break it, but he wanted Tyr’s arm in his mouth as he did it, as insurance that if he could not break it, the Asgardians would let him out of it. Tyr was the one Asgardian Fenrir trusted; he had been almost like a father figure to him – Loki having no interest in fatherhood except for the good times that occasionally led to it. Tyr agreed, and that was how he lost his arm. The dwarfs had fashioned the chain from the roots of the mountains, the breath of a fish, the sound a cat makes when it moves, and other such things which no longer exist. Since that day, Fenrir has stood chained on a hill outside Valhalla.

“Odin took my sons, he took your brothers, he took my husband and your father, and for what?” Sigyn calls loudly, her voice ringing clearly through the hall. “Because he wanted to. He feared Fenrir, so he chained him up. He thought you a monstrosity, so he cast you out. He didn’t like Jormungandr, so he threw him in the ocean. He was mad at Loki, so he killed my sons. Odin has gone too far, and for too long he has ruled. It is time someone put a stop to him, and if not you and I, I don’t know who.” A deliberating hush falls over the ruler of Helheim, almost as if she is actually considering the madness presented to her.

“You want to go to war with Odin?” Baldur asks bewildered. He leans forward in his chair, resting his arm on the table. “I can see wanting to protect your husband, your loyalty is amiable, even if misdirected. But to go against all of Asgard, to risk starting Ragnarök. Are you sure you have thought this through, Sigyn?”

“I have had a thousand years to think about it. I have had a thousand years to feel the pain, and a thousand years to realize where the true blame lies. I am going to Asgard, with or without assistance, and you cannot stop me.”

“The wife everyone discounted,” Hel says with a smile. “The woman who was merely loyal to a man who could never return the feeling, you, of all people, are going to start Ragnarök.” She sounds pleased, happy even.

“I want revenge,” Sigyn replies coolly. “If I have to start Ragnarök to get it, I will, but I will not sit back and do nothing anymore.” Time has done what heartache alone could not. Turned sorrow into fury, heartache into determination, and now finally, the brew is complete, and left in the wake of sorrow crushed helplessness is action. A smile plays on Hel’s face as she leans forward in her chair.

“You are mad,” she says, and now there is a hint of admiration in her voice.

“Your father taught me well,” Sigyn replies. “So, do we have a deal?” Hel smiles, seemingly ready to take the offered partnership – consequences be damned. But then her eyes fall on the two men, and the smile fades.

“You are here for your sons, why are they here?” Hel nods to Max and Ian.

“I promised them each one of Idun’s apples, eternal youth is just what newly weds all dream of.” Baldur laughs, a sweet, honied laugh, that soon spreads among all the assembled dead.

“Oh, well,” Hel laughs. “If you are on a suicide mission anyways, why not piss of Idun too.” The hall laughs, but the two men look at each other. Did they just make a huge mistake? Between Sigyn the Loyal and Loki the Mischievous, it didn’t seem so far fetched to get the apples. But now… maybe they got tricked. How foolish do you have to be to trust Loki, of all people? Of all gods? And, yet, Odin himself has done it multiple times – and it hasn’t always turned out half bad for him in the end. Maybe they can somehow still turn this around to their side, you never know when you are dealing with Loki.

“You go get your apples, I will wait here till you… well, till you look a little bit more capable. Those years in that cave sure did a number on you.”

“No, I shall not travel back here,” Sigyn responds. “The journey is long and perilous, and I have things to do. If you agree with my deal, meet me on the field outside Valhalla in a month’s time. If you are too scared to face Asgard, stay here and wait for Ragnarök.” No one in the hall laughs at that, but Sigyn turns around slowly to walk back out, having said her piece. Hel considers her for a moment, unable to stop herself being just a little impressed by the courage of the woman she always thought a fool before. To marry Loki could be nothing but foolishness, but perhaps that time in the cave with him has changed her. She is brave, at least, dumb, perhaps, and foolhardy, but brave none the less. And who knows, maybe foolhardiness works for her, just like last minute solutions work for Loki.

“Wait,” Hel calls, her voice not so much commanding and queen like, but more requesting. Sigyn’s bold proposal has made an impact on her, that much is clear. She is no longer just Loki’s loyal wife, no, Sigyn is a force to be reckoned with, and Odin better watch out. “Where is Loki? I don’t suppose the loyal Sigyn would leave him behind to suffer the cave on his own?”

“He is at hand,” Sigyn replies with a sly smile that reminds Hel of Loki. “For when he is needed.” Hel does not laugh.

“You brought my father into my realm?” As she speaks, she stands up, and all around her the dead shudder. The flames of the candles rise up in huge spikes, the wax on the walls runs more than drips, and every dead person, including Baldur, slides quietly away from her on the benches.

“And I shall take him with me out again,” Sigyn says quietly, as if the display of anger could not matter less to her. After a thousand years, one would think she had learned patience, if not at least to bear with Loki (and by extension, his genes), but after a thousand years one could also understand why she wouldn’t have time to waste on her husband’s illegitimate daughter’s temper tantrums and daddy issues.

“I refuse to be a part of any plan that involves that treacherous, two-faced, lying, scheming, man-whore!” Apart from the irony of Hel calling someone two-faced, the description is rather accurate. Well, apart from the lying bit.

“Then you may stay here and rot, I am not so foolish as to walk into an unknown and dangerous situation without the one man who has proven himself capable of getting out of them again.” Hel heaves in anger with her every breath.

“You do know he was a part of the team who chained up Fenrir, right?” she calls in indignation. “His own son! Told Tyr Fenrir wasn’t his problem, that they should deal with him themselves!” Sigyn stops up halfway back to the door.

“You forget, dear Hel,” she says without turning around. “I had two sons with him too. Do you think he ever cried for them? Do you think he ever mourned them? Loki might have fathered children, might even have given birth, but he has never been a parent. He willingly gave Sleipnir to Odin.” She turns around slowly. “There were a lot of things Loki never was, probably never will be. He is a man of his word, though only ever his literal word. You can never trust him to be on your side, but he always come through when it really matters. He might be treacherous, but how often has Odin been the one to betray him first? Like the time he got the wall around Asgard built. They all agreed that his logic was reasonable, there was no way that man could finish building that wall in the time they allowed, so it was safe to agree to his bet, to promise that Freya would marry him if he succeeded. They all agreed. Then it turned out that maybe he could actually finish, and all of a sudden everything was Loki’s fault. Odin threatened to kill Loki if he didn’t put a stop to it.

“But no, Loki is the bad one. No one ever blames Thor for killing that dwarf at Baldur’s funeral, even though everyone else was perfectly capable of not murdering anyone despite their grief, Thor had to kick Lit onto the grave ship and let him burn. But is Thor punished for that? No. Was Loki given any sort of praise for keeping Thor in line when they went to Jotunheim to get Mjollnir back? No. Did anyone even notice when Loki defeated Skrymsli after both Odin and Höner gave up? No. Loki is the trickster, and that makes him evil, even when his tricks get Asgard the greatest weapon they have ever seen, like Mjollnir and Gungnir. Loki is treacherous, because he doesn’t align himself with people who treat him like scum. Loki is two faced because no one can ever figure out which side he will be on – well, wake up and smell the mead, he is on the one side that never betrays him or casts him out: his own. No, he isn’t a liar, he just never gives more than the bare meaning of a promise. Yes, he schemes, but we have all benefited from that. And yes, he is a two-timing man-whore, but if anyone has any right to be mad about that, it is certainly not you!” Max and Ian watch in quiet wonder as Sigyn rants, as does everyone else. Only Hel looks indignant.

“She has a point,” whispers Baldur. Hel turns on him in a fury. “Well,” he defends himself. “I’m not saying he isn’t a bad guy, or a bad father, but she does have a point about him getting all the blame all the time.” Sweet Baldur, sweet, loving Baldur whose heart is so good he sees the good even in Loki. Hel continues to heave in angry breaths, but she does not speak. Sigyn waits patiently. Max looks at Ian, sharing a single thought: maybe trusting Sigyn wasn’t such a bad idea after all. If she can put the goddess of death in her place like this, maybe there is still a chance. Getting those apples would mean everything. They could stop worrying about the future – for any apple that could grant eternal youth must surely be powerful enough to cure a brain tumor, right? Even at stage five.

“Count,” Hel says slowly through gritted teeth. “Me. Out.” Sigyn shrugs.

“If you are willing to let your hatred of your father cloud your love of your brother, maybe Fenrir is better off chained up outside Valhalla.” And with that she leaves, crosses the remainder of the room before Hel can collect herself enough from the indignation to argue.

Safely hidden in Sigyn’s sleeve, Loki has heard all of it. How his children hate him, how his wife mistrusts him, and how it fell on Baldur of all people to defend him to his only daughter. Perhaps he should have known, or suspected at least, Sigyn was right, he did give Sleipnir to Odin quite freely. Hel was right, he did nothing for Fenrir. But Sleipnir was… Well, it wasn’t the foals fault, but Loki hadn’t exactly wanted any of that, he had only transformed into a horse and lured Svadilfari away from the work on the wall because Odin had promised to kill him if he hadn’t fixed it, and Loki had tried everything he could to outrun Svadilfari, it just hadn’t been enough. It wasn’t Sleipnir’s fault what happened, no, but after all that, Loki had thought it better to let someone else look after the foal. As for Fenrir, he had tried to hide him, all three of them actually, but Odin had still found them. If Loki hadn’t let them tie up Fenrir, what would the alternative have been? How many of his children would have survived Odin’s mistrust? Vali and Nari though, that… Their deaths were his greatest regret. It should never have come to that, he should have stopped it long before.