It could have worked. The plan could have been brilliant. Everything had set up perfectly, Enchantress was maintaining her protection charm, Odin, Balder, and Sif were fighting nobly, like the Asgardian warriors they were, Loki was showing exceptional swordsmanship, and even assisted his fellow soldiers as they cut down every last berserker.
The clone snuck up on Hela, as planned. She was distracted, as planned. And you were about to greet Hela with your blade when you heard a voice. A familiar voice that shouldn't be familiar.
"Momma!" you and Hela both turn toward the little boy as he runs through the battlefield, toward you. No, he isn't running to you. He runs to Hela.
You look closer. Little Thor. But not little Thor.
Who is he?
He tramples through clumps of bloodied fur and piles of feathers strewn across the grass, the aftermath of a Berserker's death, but he trips, falling at your feet. You reach to pull him up, but he levitates, above your head, just out of your reach.
"Momma! What's happening?" You look at Hela, her arm outstretched. Not reaching, but restraining.
"You silly boy, I told you to stay put, didn't I?"
You look back at the boy, catching his eye. Your heart stutters, you gasp.
"Váli?" He looks at you, stunned, "Váli!" you reach for him, but a shock of energy surges through your arm and you cry out as you're thrown backwards. Hela flings the boy over her head, away from you, and he lands with a loud grunt.
"Well, that was a bit premature." She sighs, never relinquishing her hold on the child.
"You weren't meant to see him yet. I had planned for that to be the twist of the knife."
You hear him groan from the impact, unable to escape her hold. Something in you snaps, your blood boils; before you can talk yourself out of it, you're rushing at Hela, drawing your sword. She blocks your first blow easily, spinning you slightly and knocking you to your knees. You twist quickly, narrowly avoiding a blow from her Nightsword. She sends a flurry of energy bolts toward you, too many to dodge; out of reflex, you curl into yourself, arms braced around your head, waiting for the impact. It never comes. Slowly lowering your arms, you see the cloud of energy hovering before you,
"No." Hela breathes in disbelief. You push at the ball of energy, sending it darting back to her, catching her off guard and knocking her off her feet. She drops her sword, sending it skittering to the side.
Sif, having dispatched her fair share of berserkers, ran to your aid. Diving for the sword, she reaches it at the same time as Hela,
"See to the child!" she yells, grappling with her, so you run to him and even in the adrenaline of battle you feel nervous. Finally free of Hela's grasp, the boy sits up, rubbing his arm, and looks at you. Those are Loki's eyes.
"Váli," you almost whimper, "I didn't know. I don't know how I didn't see you. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Setting your sword down, you kneel and pull him to you, trying to wrap him in a hug, but he wrenches out of your grasp,
"What are you talking about? I'm Aren. Who's Váli? What's happening?" you see his fear, the indifference toward you, and you don't know what to say. He doesn't know you; he doesn't recognize you beyond the comic book store. He doesn't know who he is.
You feel a prickle at the back of your neck.
"Momma, no!"
z+M
YOU ARE READING
The Purging of Asgard
Fanfiction(This is a work of Fan fiction, meant to be read from the readers perspective, so I have omitted the main heroine's name.) You are a simple, quiet, comic store owner with a penchant for nick-naming your regular customers. So far your life has been a...
