My family is not your average family, we never have been nor shall we ever be. As a child I used to wonder why the world was cruel to myself and my brothers; I never understood their prejudice towards us, nor did I understand my father’s reasoning behind his countless apologies and pleas to our grandfather to let us be. Now, now I understand. My father was an embarrassment to his ‘family’, he acted out due to living in his brother’s shadow and as a result was shunned by most of our people. This lead to all of our births, we were not left alone though, never alone. My father raised us even after our mother was murdered, he kept us safe, kept us hidden, protected us.

That didn’t last though, one day my elder brother and I wanted to leave our small dark home. Creeping out in the dead of night we ran quietly through the streets, leaving our younger brother to his sleep with father, we were amazed by the golden buildings before us, the large halls and temples, just seeing the night sky above us was a gift in itself. Then we came across a golden palace one we recognised from our father’s stories, of course as children we could not resist such temptation thus we began exploring. From the large gardens with their glorious fountains and sparkling waters to the stables; it was there we encountered a shock.

Father’s tales of our older brother were intriguing and mystical to a child but we did not know the truth behind them until that night; coming across a large stallion with no less than eight legs resting in one of the stalls. Fen was never able to resist his urges and approached the creature, I followed behind being a child of only six summers I knew no better. As we reached the stallion he lifted his head and looked at the two of us; cautiously climbing to his feet and approaching as silently as he physically could. I distinctly remembering reaching out to stroke his snout and being shocked by the look in his eyes. The colour and emotional depth within them has stayed with me until this day. His eyes were identical to fathers, so much so that I as a young child could place them instantaneously. This was the one we had heard tales of. The one bound by Odin and forced to be nothing more than a horse for him to ride. This was our fathers missing child. Our brother. Sleipnir.

It was then that everything our father had worked for began to fall apart; a patrolling guard had seen Sleipnir get up and walk out of his stall, the guard had chosen to investigate and came across the three of us together. Back then I remember thinking that the guard’s shouts could have been heard throughout the nine realms; thinking back to then I should have ran and tried to hide before they found me. Being so young I froze in fear however and was soon pinned to the ground by a guard; screaming in fear I had called out for father and my brothers. Sleipnir had tried to help us both attacking several guards before he too was subdued and tied down; Fen had bitten several guards before he too was dealt with. As for myself the guards recoiled in horror at the sight of me.

I do not remember much after that, at least not until I awoke the next morning to see my father shouting and screaming with the All-father. The All-father gave me a look that had tears flowing down my face once more; I remember one man, tall and blonde stood beside father looking upon us in what appeared to be interest and a small amount of shock. The shouting between father and Odin continued for a long while in the meantime a beautiful woman, whom I now know was the All-mother, came over to us and began to sing softly to calm us. It was only when she finished her song that I had realised the shouting had ceased and the entire court were looking at us; most in disgust but some held pity in their expressions.

Father walked over and had dropped to his knees in front of us, reaching out to pull the three of us into a hug, whispering softly over and over again how he was sorry, that he just wanted to protect us and keep us safe but he had failed. The meaning of his words did not grasp me until Fenrir was taken from father and dragged away leaving the three of us screaming and crying after him. Jorgmandr was taken from us soon after. Once my brothers had gone leaving me with father he looked down at me brushing a strand of hair from my face; tears covering both of our faces as he whispered to me. Repeating several times how beautiful I was and that I was to remember he always loved me and that nothing in the realms would change that.

Then I was taken. A guard picked me up despite my screaming and thrashing about in his arms he took me over to Odin; I was then taken through the streets of Asgard towards something I knew as the Bifrost. I remember crowds upon crowds standing on the bridge simply watching. I was placed before a large swirling hole inside the golden building; Odin began to speak but I do not recall his words as I was still screaming and trying to reach father who was held back by guards and the blonde man from before.

That was the last image I have of my father. His hand reached out towards mine, the tears cascading down his face as he called my name one last time.

Then I was gone. Sent to Niflheim where I have resided since that day, with only the souls of the dead to keep me company. For four hundred years I have guarded these halls and its residents. Until today I had little interest in the souls.

You see. Today the soul of Baldr entered my halls.  The youngest son of Odin and Frigga. As foretold by the Norns, Baldr’s arrival signals the freedom of myself and my family.

For now, Ragnarok has begun.

 

2: Chapter One- The Lady of The Dead

Hel

There are many things within the nine realms that I pondered on, the very existence of the world’s we called home and the varying differences between each one. From the golden buildings of Asgard to the frozen rock palaces of Jotunheim, I had always looked upon the two warring realms with interest. The Asgardians civilised barbarity not vastly different from that of the Jotuns yet the Aesir see themselves above the Jotuns and strive to keep it as such; I could not and would not say that the Jotuns are innocent as that would be untrue, I would however state that the Aesir are just as guilty as their frozen counterparts.

It is the souls of their people that fill my halls. Some of the Aesir are lucky to be granted entrance to Valhalla but for those of old age, those claimed by illness or outside of a great battle the great halls of Helheim become their eternal home; forever wondering the halls and trapped within the realm of Niflheim. The dark palace is indeed a cold place surrounded by the mists of time and forever trapped in an eternal winter; I did and still do find that such qualities no longer bother me as they did during my childhood, now they provide comfort and familiarity for a half-dead creature as myself. The many walls of the palace decorated in ornate prophecies provide endless hours of interest, as the times change the images shift all in an everlasting state of change, bar one that is. The greatest of all depictions resides behind the stone throne; it is the prophecy of Ragnarok.

To the right Odin riding tall upon my brother his spear held tightly in one hand with Thor at his side as always; father and son charging head on into the final battle, with the many Aesir and Midgardian warriors behind them. With the walls of Asgard burning and crumbling to the ground beneath the large hands of the giant Surt whilst the Bifrost burns behind him. Then to the left.  My brother Fenrir breaking free of the chains that bind him; behind him Jorgmandr emerging from the oceans sending large waves sprawling across the land drowning the Aesir and Midgardians caught off guard. The one part of the prophecy that I have always struggled to understand was the depiction of myself standing at the bow of a large ship; with the many dishonourable dead following behind along with thousands upon thousands of Jotun warriors, sailing into battle behind Jorgmandr in preparation for the worlds end.  To me the greatest part of the carving is the image to the back by no means small but just the right size to be missed if one was not paying great enough attention; standing upon the edge of the Bifrost my father fighting gallantly against the keeper of the bridge Heimdall, he who sees all.

As Queen of the realm I have known and always shall know that Ragnarok is not the end; the Norns have shared such information with me several times before, for what purpose I do not know but in the greater scheme everything they do has its place. I am able to find comfort and security in the simple thought, being alone and isolated from life does have its effects upon a being whether mortal or immortal. There are days when I look upon the many souls that inhabit my realm among them families and friends reunited in the coldest of places yet there is warmth among those groups; warmth that I long to feel one that is always beyond my grasp, I have no true family to seek comfort from and no friends that I can obtain reassurance from. There is only Garm a large beast not dissimilar from Fenrir, while his mind is simple he understands when I am in need of company, resting beside my throne he keeps guard over Helheim preventing those who enter from leaving.

One would think that ruling an entire realm would mean a different life…a better one.

How wrong they are.

For so long I have wished to feel the sun’s rays upon my skin and to look upon a living land; while I am comfortable and secure in my realm it is impossible not to long for life, for colour something that Niflheim severely lacks. The monochrome landscape makes my ‘home’ feel more like a prison just as Odin intended it to be. To my utter disgust something deep within what is left of my soul has warped; the innocence of my childhood was lost to me on my sixth birthday when I was cast into these halls, over the thousands of years a dark anger and hatred has replaced it. No amount of suppression ever keeps it hidden for long.

More recently I have found myself looking at the depiction of Ragnarok, with the arrival of Baldr’s soul in my halls the minute interest I previously held had grown but the thought of fighting alongside the Jotuns has become more appealing than disgusting; envoys from Svartalfheim and Jotunheim have entered Niflheim and remained just outside Helheim. Each with a proposition for an alliance and up until now my resolve has held, ending with each envoy returning back to their home realm empty handed.

From where I sit upon my throne I am able to see most of Helheim and parts of Niflheim; day after day I have sat here and observed how the grey mists thicken and watch as the few immortal creatures become more erratic and violent against one another. Narrowing my eyes I watch as yet another envoy begins appears in the distance beginning its journey towards my home; within seconds I had made my decision.

Standing up and adjusting my cloak to cover the left side of my face I descended down the steps from my throne; the few shades present in the corridors of the palace bowed as the sconces lit themselves. Moving quickly and silently through the labyrinth of corridors I was unable to prevent my thoughts going back to the words Skuld spoke to me when I was a child.

‘The Queen of the dead shall give in little one, oh how glorious the alliance shall be. A half-dead Queen and her army of the dead beside the residents of Frost, still a Queen in her own right and as glorious as her father. The King himself shall greet the Queen, both of the same blood and both with the same desires. Not of power little one but of family. Oh how important family shall be for the greatest moment in the history of the realms.’

Taking one last step I stopped before the large intricate doors that symbolised the entrance to Helheim; raising a hand I placed it over my chest and willed my heart to slow its rapid beating. Closing my eyes for a brief moment and taking a deep calming breath I pushed myself forward; the large stone doors swinging open without assistance revealing the cracked stone steps to me for the first time in many years. I noticed with some amusement that the Jotuns froze in their tracks, all but one kneeling down crossing one arm over their chest in a sign of respect. On either side of the staircase the large dragon shaped torches flared to life casting an eerie light across the mist; illuminating them in a way that I had never seen before.

Lifting the edges of my dress I walked down the grand staircase and approached the pale beings; as I got closer I was able to distinguish their bright blue eyes and the large horns upon the head of the only one standing. Coming to a stop just before him I stood tall and waited for him to speak first.

“Queen Hel, it is an honour.” He greeted with a bow of his head “I am King Laufey of Jotunheim”

“An honour” Inclining my head respectfully towards him “I do request an explanation for your personal appearance though Laufey. You have sent many envoys to my realm yet I have sent each back with a decline to your offers, so tell me what does possess you to travel to my realm personally?” Laufey seemed to be taken back by my words but quickly corrected his stance and looked directly into my one visible eye

“The Allfather has become too comfortable in his tranquillity, allowing himself to become blind to the chaos and anarchy in the other realms not including ours of course. It is time the Son of Bor is removed from his pedestal; only together can we make this ambition true. The rulers of two of the greatest realms; with warriors insurmountable in numbers and skill. With an alliance between our two realms we can raise an army larger than has ever been seen throughout the nine realms, together we can obtain power far greater that even we can imagine. Jotunheim can finally obtain its freedom from Odin’s fist and you shall be free from this prison.” With every word Laufey had taken a step closer until he was mere inches from myself distinguishing the height difference between us; taking a step backwards I inspected him for any sign of treachery but was unable to find one.

“Shades and Jotuns working together” I hummed walking around him slowly watching his body language “Two worlds combined in the battle against the Gods.” Chuckling darkly I smirked at him from behind my cloak “Such a suggestion would be enough to warrant an execution Laufey” The Jotuns kneeling stiffened at my words casting wordless glances to one another “Should the Allfather hear such words death would be certain.”

Laufey narrowed his eyes and folded his arms across his broad chest “I should hope Hel that you are not insinuating anything.” With another chuckle and a wave of my wrist I looked up at him.

“The Queen of the dead has nothing to fear from the living. I however have been waiting for the day Odin is removed from power and I am no longer prisoner within my own realm.” Stepping towards him a dark sense of pride welled up within as a quick flash of fear appeared on his face before being concealed once more.  “You know not of what you are starting Laufey. Nor do you know who you are suggesting an alliance with”

“Then show me and let me understand the implications of my words.”

I laugh harshly “Very well Laufey” Reaching up I removed my hood revealing my half dead form to him and taking a sick satisfaction at the reaction gained. “You have made a deal with death Laufey and let me assure you such a thing cannot be taken lightly.” Reaching a skeletal hand out I placed it upon his face “When dealing with death agreements and the like cannot be broken less your soul becomes mine Jotun.” Withdrawing my hand I watched as a range of emotions ran through his gleaming crimson eyes.

“Such deals and sacrifices must be made.”

“Indeed they must.” Returning my hood to its original position I straightened myself up “Though the knowledge of what you are starting is lost on you, in time you will see the true implications of your words and what chaos shall be started.” Once more he narrowed his eyes in suspicion “Think on my words Laufey.” Turning around I slowly began to ascend the staircase calling back over my shoulder “Niflheim accepts the alliance with Jotunheim. We shall meet again on the eve of the third moon; I do hope you will not disappoint men Laufey. It would be a shame if I was to reap your soul for forgetting a simple meeting.” Casting a glance down at the Jotuns from the entrance to Helheim I watched as Laufey bowed his head slowly.

“We shall meet again upon the arrival of the third moon Queen Hel. Until then.”

“Until then Laufey King of the Jotuns.” With that I walked inside Helheim once more the large doors swinging shut encompassing the halls in darkness and sealing the Jotuns out.

 

 

 

 

 

3: Chapter Two- Odinsons

Midgard

Shimmering ice crystals compacted into a large white blanket cover the once lush and fertile land. Tree branches heavily burdened by the snow dip towards the ground, their leaves no more than frozen crystals gently laying on the tundra slowly disappearing beneath yet another layer of snow. Upon looking over the frozen landscape one would admire the beauty of such a scene but beneath the beauty lies a hidden truth. Stone homes hidden underneath the blanket, where fires once burned only the frozen branches and logs remain the embers and flames long extinguished. The residents curled in a corner arms wrapped around one another in a meagre attempt to share heat, eyelashes decorated with small dustings of ice particles, skin solid to the touch and hearts that beat no more.

For the Aesir the sight of the desolate village reminded them of the Fimbulwinter’s arrival. Moving almost reverently through the remains the sound of their boots compacting the snow beneath their feet seemed to echo throughout the valley. Subconsciously each man pulled his cloak further around his body in a feeble attempt to block out the icy winds as they danced around the army, cold wispy fingers freezing the skin with a single touch.

From his position at the front of the military force Thor halted and knelt down, a small brown object having caught his eye. Using a gloved hand he gently brushed the snow away from the item and inspected it. A small wooden horse carved by hand and inscribed with a boy’s name, closing his fingers around the toy he lifted his head and brushed a loose strand of hair from his face. Slowly rising to his feet he moved towards a large pile of snow wrapped around the local well, moving around it he stood still and stared into the face of a young child in his mother’s arms. His heart lurched imaging the pair as his own wife and son frozen to death but together. His eyes glistened with unshed tears as he knelt down once more reaching out to gently tuck the toy into the boy’s arms, looking between the two he turned his head from the sight and climbed to his feet.

Behind him the soldiers had stopped their march and watched their Prince, several men shedding silent tears at the sight before them. With a heavy heart Thor turned to face them a lone tear marking his face, nodding he moved away from the mother and son continuing his trek through the village. Silently the military group marched on through the snow slowly leaving the frozen village behind, the mood sombre, so much death and over the next three years each knew that there would be more and they were powerless to stop it.

 

Nifleheim

Reclining on her throne Hel looked up at the ornate ceiling above her, the intricate patterns creating a new story every time she watched, sometimes telling stories of battles others of romance. Today they spoke of her father and brothers each separated but the love between them no less than the day they parted.

“My Queen” Startled from her thoughts she looked at the shade standing before her “Fimbulwinter has its grip on Midgard, many souls have entered your halls” Nodding slowly she placed her head in her hand “The Odinson has requested an audience with you my Lady.”

“Send him in” She ordered with a wave of her hand. The shade bowed and retreated from her presence only to reappear moments later accompanied by the transparent form of a large man, with another bow the shade exited the halls sealing the great doors as it did so. “Baldr”

“Queen Hel” Giving her a gentle smile he inclined his head “It has been a long time” When he received no answer the smile vanished from his face, slowly he moved forwards kneeling before her throne. “Queen Hel of Nifleheim, I have requested this audience to talk to you of the events that have been set in motion” Hel remained silent and Baldr took that as his sign to continue. “My Queen, you must know that my death has resulted in Fimbulwinter’s creation, thousands of Midgardians are already dying and millions more will follow.” Looking up at her he stood “Please I beg of you, return me to Asgard so that this may stop, do not let all of those people die because of your father’s deceit! It is not their price to pay!”

Slamming her hand down on the arm of her throne Hel rose to her feet “Enough!” She roared glaring down at him. Swiftly she moved in front of him grabbing his face with her skeletal hand “This is my realm Odinson and your soul belongs to me” He flinched slightly at the hiss “You will not inform me of what I can and cannot do is that clear?” Growling when he refused to acknowledge her question she tightened her grip on his face pressing her thumb into his eye.

Giving a cry of pain Baldr shouted “Yes!” Curling her decaying lip she dropped him to the ground.

“You may be a shade Baldr but do not think for one moment that I cannot inflict pain upon you. Should you challenge my authority again or make another demand, you will experience pain like you have never felt before” Baldr faced the ground refusing to look up at her as she walked over to her throne and returned to her seated position.

After a few moments of silence between the two Baldr finally spoke up “What happened to you Hel?” Lifting his head his gaze met hers “When your father first introduced me to you and your siblings you were a shy and happy child. Now…” Sighing his dropped his gaze and shook his head “I fear you have become the monster your father wished to protect you from.”

Removing her hood Hel allowed Baldr to see her half-dead form, a slight sense of satisfaction overcame her at the gasp that came from his lips. Slowly the Odinson rose to his feet and approached her pausing only to gain her permission before continuing forward; nervously he reached out and cautiously brushed a hand over the decaying skin. Hel remained impassive and simply watched the emotions running through his face.

“This should never have happened” Baldr murmured, reaching a hand up Hel clasped his wrist and removed it from her face.

“When I was cast from Asgard the Bifrost increased the rate of decay. Had I remained on Asgard my skin would only be discoloured, as it is my skin will continue to decay until the entire right side of my body is mere bone” Gesturing towards the hand currently holding his wrist “I have reasons to hate the All-Father Baldr. I dread to think of what has happened to my brothers. I fear Fenrir has lost his mind to his bestial nature and I have been unable to find Jorgmandr.” Baldr released his hand from her grasp and moved backwards “This is why I must keep you here.” Covering her head once more she looked at him “I will not allow my family to suffer any longer, once the Cycle has ended we will be free”

Sighing Baldr looked at her “If you fell this is what you must do, I cannot stop you for I am but a shade” Turning away from her he walked towards the doors stopping as they opened before him, casting a glance at the Queen of the dead over his shoulder he gave her a sad smile “Perhaps once all of this is over we can start anew” With those parting words he left the slam of the doors echoing throughout the realm.

Bowing her head Hel sighed “I would very much like that”