The Purging of Asgard

Chapter 29

Váli buries his face in your neck, his tears dampening the front of your tattered and blood-stained shirt as his shoulders tremble, but you can't look away from Hela. The blade does it's job well, slicing cleanly through her skin, letting her blood spray uninhibited, painting the pillar next to her and spilling down her front. She makes no move to staunch the flow, no one moves to help her, and she struggles against the instinct to gasp for air. She sinks to her knees, falls forward, her blood still flowing, now pooling around her. The last look in her eyes almost broke your heart, the hopeless brokenness with nothing left to lose. She just gave up. You see her eyes go dull and her breathing stills, and you know it's finally over.

"It's gonna be okay, honey." You say to Váli as he sniffles, wiping his nose on his sleeve. He nods and leans into you, quieting down. Loki kisses your temple, his arms wrap around you both,

"It's finished, darling." He whispers,

"Not quite." Odin says. "Fandral, Hogan, seize him."

"What? What are you doing?" You ask holding Váli tight as Loki is pulled away from you; you reach for him but Thor holds you back.

"Leave him, Sigyn." He says quietly, regret evident in his voice.

"Your crimes have not been overlooked, Loki." Continues Odin,

"You can't really mean to punish him now." You fight against Thor, trying to reason with Odin,

"He is no more excusable than Hela. He has proven himself as an enemy of Asgard, and will be held accountable for his actions." Loki says nothing, hardly resists as his hands are bound, only looking at Odin with a hatred that makes you shudder.

"No, leave him alone!" Váli breaks free from you, kicking Hogan in the shin and pulling at Fandral, trying to free Loki's hands,

"Come away, boy—" Volstagg steps forward, but Váli jumps out of his reach,

"No! You can't take my dad!"
"Váli, quiet down, now. I need you to do something for me," Loki kneels beside his son, his wrists already shackled, "I need you to promise you will look after your mother."
"No." He whines, "I just found you, why can't you stay now?"
"Son, he did some very bad things. He is in a lot of trouble here. " Fandral tries to explain gently,
"But I need him..." Váli's voice is so small, so quiet as it trembles, that even Odin's heart seems to cave a little bit. "I've never had a dad before." He clings to Loki, crying, "I need him."

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Never have I known pain this profound. The aching and burning, joints protesting against stiff and cracking tendons, blood running cold; I could swear I smell charred flesh, and by the intensity of this constant burn I assume it must be mine. I hear the roar of the flames, feel it's bite, but there is nothing around me but darkness. I have screamed my throat raw, blood always spilling from my self-inflicted wound, always flowing, but never weakening me enough to let this world melt away. I have no measure of time here, I could have been here for a matter of hours, or I may have already endured centuries of this agony. I keep expecting to go numb, for the nerves to char with my muscles, blacken with my bones, but the pain is the one things that never lessens, never leaves. Regret, guilt, and heartbreak constantly intensify. I'm too exhausted to cry, too hopeless to fight. Why bother? I'm home. My tattered, burning, blackened, home. Though my halls are no longer mine, and I have no authority in my own realm, I have been sent where those dogs think I belong. Now the souls I governed take joy in torturing me, beating me, humiliating me. I've been made just like them. Just like the scum I lead here, just like those too inadequate, vain, too cowardly, too violent to be admitted to Valhalla. The daughter of a prince, thrown out in the rubbish. No power to change the cruel fate they have forced on me, no will left to try. Through all this pain, there is always that one face, one thing that hurts more than anything, the sight of Aren, the boy I raised, the child that I mindlessly let myself get attached to, running past me, giving my name to that whore; looking at me like I'm a monster. In that moment I saw all of the times I nursed him through a sickness, taught him to read, helped him with the work he brought home from his classes, all of it burns along with me, now. Every day, I want to find a way out, take over my kingdom, get Aren back, but I'm so tired. I'm just too tired.

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"All-father, what will his sentence be?" you ask after a moment,

"I swore to Frigga that I would not put him to death, so imprisonment for life in solitary confinement is the only option for him." You see Loki gulp, defeat in his eyes, but his look of hatred has not lessened.

"My lord Odin, have I served you loyally?" He looks confused at the sudden change in subject,

"Yes, you have always proven yourself Faithful."

"Have I, then, earned your favor?"

"Yes, Lady Sigyn, you will always have my good favor." His responses grow increasingly wary,

"Then, my king, may I make a suggestion? Offer an alternative punishment?" Loki looks incredulously at you for a moment, unable to believe his ears,

"Momma, what are you doing?"

"Trust me, Váli..." you pause, turning back to him, "Did you just call me Momma?" the title sounds so foreign to you, but you that it is one of the sweetest things you've ever heard.

"Of course I did, you're my mother. And you're my father," he says turning back to Loki, "right?"

"That's right." Loki whispers. His heart cracking at the thought of never seeing his family again.

Odin's voice barely shakes you from your daze. You had no idea before how much you missed your unborn son, you had never met him, never held him. It all came back to you now, how you were looking forward to meeting him for the first time, teach him to walk and talk, to read, how much that anticipation hurt the longer your pregnancy drew on, how much it hurt even when you didn't know it was your son that you missed.

"You have given much, my child. I will hear you."

"May I suggest exile?"

"Sigyn—" you shush Loki,

"Specifically exile to Midgard." Odin looks to be contemplating the suggestion,

"What would keep him from returning to Asgard? Or leaving Midgard for another realm?"

"Bind his gifts. Have him live in Midgard, under my supervision, as any other mortal. To work, build a different life, socialize, assimilate into the human lifestyle."
"It does not strike me as much of a punishment." Odin says, looking at you knowingly,

"My lord, I know what Loki has done—"

"And yet you want to stand beside him." He interrupts,

"Yes. Because he his my husband. I have lost my family and my life once already, I ask that you give me the chance at the life I should have lead, had the Purging never happened. I beg you, All-Father, to let me take my family home. Let me live with my son and my husband quietly, safely, harmlessly.

Odin sits on his throne, deep in thought. You steel yourself, sure he will refuse, Loki has killed so many, attacking Jotunheim, and the war in New York; so you stand quietly, preparing for a goodbye, for your family to be broken up again. Right as you want to speak, scream just for the sake of breaking the silence, Odin sighs heavily, his hard gaze falling on you.

"Go." You blink, not daring to hope,

"Go?"

"Take your family, return to Midgard, build your life. Go, my child."

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