Sacrifice - Hela Odinson

#18 - Ragnarok

"Then happens what will seem a great miracle, that the wolf devours the sun, and this will seem a great loss.
The other wolf will devour the moon, and this too will cause great mischief. The stars shall be hurled from
heaven. Then it shall come to pass that the earth and the mountains will shake so violently that trees will be
torn up by the roots, the mountains will topple down, and all bonds and fetters will be broken and snapped.
The Fenris−wolf gets loose."

- The Prose Edda by Snorri Sturluson

oOo

Fenrir was ready to devour the Sun. His mouth opened wide, and when I thought it couldn't open any wider, his jaw snapped out of place and it kept opening and opening. Even from this far, I swore I could hear his bones breaking as he revealed his teeth, flashing like shards of shattered marble.

"HELA ODINSON!" Tyr called out in a stentorian volume that made my ears ring.

Only then did I notice that my fiancée was sitting on Fenrir's back. Her head snapped towards us, her cold blue eyes glimmering with pure, raw fury.

"TYR, YOU POOR EXCUSE OF A WARRIOR, SHAME OF ASGARD, GET YOUR FILTHY HANDS OFF HER THIS INSTANT!"

Despite the circumstances, I caught myself smiling faintly, overwhelmed by the love I felt for this absolutely divine woman. Scary, but absolutely divine.

Feeling Tyr's blade shift from my side to my throat snapped me back to reality.

"IF YOU DON'T STOP THIS NONSENSE, YOUR LITTLE FROST GIANT DIES!"

Okay, seriously? This frost giant nonsense again?

I decided not to correct him because something told me this wouldn't be the best time.

"I'LL RIP YOUR OTHER ARM OFF, YOU BASTARD!" Hela fumed, and she sunk both heels into Fenrir's side to make him charge towards us.

"I WOULD LOVE TO SEE YOU TRY!" Tyr lifted me off my feet and began to run. It must have been quite the sight: a fat, hairy guy hopping on his short legs, carrying me like a sack of potatoes, my ball gown dancing in the wind like a flag.

He carried me over to a horse roaming the garden aimlessly. At first I thought I was dreaming when I saw its eight legs, then I remembered that Loki made it with magic once, and it used to belong to Odin. Since the Allfather was dead, it must have been set free, maybe even granted something similar to free will. It would be very in character for Freyja to invite the fucking horse too to the party.

"Sleipnir, over here!" Tyr waved to the horse. I swear I saw it roll its eyes but it galloped over to us.

The god practically threw me on its back then jumped on behind me. I wondered how our combined weight didn't crack its spine.

Wait, wait, he's kidnapping me!

"Okay, okay, I agree with the 'no Ragnarok' part, but this is just too much!" I protested. "Let me go!" I tried to jump off the horse but Tyr grabbed my waist and held me in place. I began to understand why Hela calls him the Fucker.

"Hey, man, stop touching me!" I tried to wiggle free. My stomach turned as I felt his hand grab my hip, holding on tightly.

Fenrir and Hela were getting really close, but sadly I couldn't keep Tyr distracted enough for him not to notice. He slapped Sleipnir's behind and yelled out: