Fylgjur storie

Every gift comes with a price. What would you give to keep the one that you love safe? I did a bunch of research into the fylgjur before writing this story. What I found was that there were some things that overlapped and others that were pretty fluid over time and dependent upon the source. Some said they appeared as animal representations of a person's character, others as a woman guardian or precursor to one's death, and still others as shape-shifting guardians with ties to the Fates and Dìs and Valkyries. They could be tied to only one person, or a family down through the generations, or a clan. They were also said to be tied to the person/family/clan through an object that would become warm or hot to the touch in the fylgja's presence, whether they were currently visible or not. I have taken a few liberties, and I have combined things from different stories and sources, but I have tried to stay true to the spirit of the legend. Cover: The Valkyrie's Vigil by Edward Robert Hughes

After being murdered by his own abuser after stealing the Tesseract. Loki has two choices: He can go to Valhalla. The realm of infinite peace for the fallen who died honorable deaths in battle. Where he can spend the rest of his days eating grapes and reading with Frigga. Or he can become a fylgjur. Cursed to wander the realms forever as a ghost, clinging onto a spirit of his choice. (Namely Thor, not that he would ever admit it.) And watch as his brother and his band of Midgardian misfits try to prevent the inevitable... Seems like an obvious choice, right? Except for the fact that it isn't... (I do not own the characters or the plot) (On a temporary hiatus while I work on my whumptober fanfic)