The Purging of Asgard

Chapter 24

Loki jumps between you and Hela, the two lock in a clash of steel; neither planning on taking prisoners. You take a moment, kneeling in front of the boy. "Aren... my son," You smooth back his hair, but he almost flinches away, "I need you to hide. Run back to the trees and stay out of sight. I will come back for you." He looks unsure, glancing at the tree line, back at you, he still doesn't know you. Why would he? You hadn't sung him to sleep as a baby; you didn't teach him to walk or talk; he had to be at least 10 years old by now, all that time thinking Hela was his mother. He looks like he's about to refuse, but then he catches a glimpse of Loki. He looks familiar, 'Aren' knows he's seen that man somewhere before, then he remembers: it's the father from his dreams. He's real, and he's here, fighting. If those dreams were real, then the ones about the woman calling for him... calling the wrong name...

"Váli." The boy says quietly, more out of wanting to it to be true than anything else. "I'm Váli." You blink, almost not wanting to let yourself believe it. He takes a hesitant step forward before diving into your arms.

It takes a few seconds to register what's happening, but then you cry as you hold your son for the first time. You had been deprived of the last phase of your pregnancy. You had not been able to give birth. You had never seen his infant face. But now he was here, in your arms, trying to believe.

"I promise I will come for you." You whisper in his ear, "Now go!" He nods, running to the trees, and you turn around, joining your husband. You're fighting not just for your lives or for the safety of the city; you're not trying to save the world. You fight side-by-side for your son.

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Hela POV

I can't be losing. I will not lose this fight, even though I can feel this cursed body getting fatigued, slowing, becoming exhausted. Every slash, parry, lunge, and thrust, I spend more strength than I can spare. Against them both, even my rage is running out. Who can withstand against both undying Fidelity and utter Chaos?

A jab pierces my shoulder, a slash tears through my upper leg, and I fall to one knee. But there is one last thing. Even with the boy gone, there is still one weapon left.

They pause.

I give them one chance for a killing blow and they don't take it. The fools. I laugh, I just can't help it any more, and, whispering the words I've been holding back, I feel the change begin.

My backbone cracks and stretches, my knees rearticulate, my arms crackle and grow longer. My eyes cloud over and roll back; my teeth stretch and re-form to razor-points. I can't hear my own screams over the sickening popping and groaning of my own joints.

Finally, I straighten up, towering over them both, my black robes torn and hanging ragged around me. Yes, Lady Sigyn, you've seen me before. The wraith in the garden. The start of your nightmare journey, it was me.

Pain demands to be felt, misery loves company, and all of those quaint Midgardian sentiments. Despite your illusion of control, I brought you here. Every step of the way, I lead you, showing you what you needed to see to make the moves I needed you to make.

I feel their swords on my back, hacking at my legs, but even the All-Father cannot rend this new skin.

"Well, father? What do you think of me now?" Is that regret I see in his eyes?

I fling Sif back into the trees, she really is beginning to annoy. I turn my sights to The Enchantress, being guarded by Odin himself. I do enjoy a good challenge. Time to end this spell and bring the neighbors out to play.

I feel the power crackle beneath my skin, ready to burst, but I'm tackled from behind, skidding forward slightly. I jump back up with a roar, spinning on my attacker. I spar with Balder yet again. He has yet to learn any new techniques, and I parry his jabs with ease.

He lands a blow, a slice across my stomach, and he looks triumphant for a moment, but realizes all too late that his blade cannot kill me. He looks at my blood-less wound, then back up to my eyes. With a smile, I grasp his shoulder, pulling him forward onto my blade.

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