Hel, Goddess of the Underworld (the_hidden) wrote in history_dot_com, @ 2013-01-16 08:39:00 |
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Entry tags: | ~hel, ~nyx |
The Comfort Of Darkness [shortly after Loki's binding] (tag: Nyx)
Hel had ridden Helfest hard for hours. They had shot out of the stables, past the mansions of the dead, over the gates, and finally across and out of Niflheim. Through villages and isolated woods, without a care for who might succumb to the pestilence the steed might spread. So what if they caught the sickness? It meant more soldiers for her father, and he was going to need them. For the same reason she had taken to saddle and rode off without a word, not that she had anyone to report to. She was the Dread Queen, and her actions were her own.
Hearing Helfest's labored breathing, Hel slowed him down, and stopped altogether beside a lake. She turned him loose that he might drink and graze as he would. For herself, she sat down, staring at the sky for a moment. It was a downfall of being who she was- a ruler could not just succumb to her emotions and break down whenever she felt like it. Now, under the cover of night where none could see her, she gave in and began to sob.
Hel had never had an easy life. But finding out what had happened to her father was finally her breaking point. While there was nothing she could do to change any of it, she wondered if she might not have prevented it. What if she had just released Baldr, instead of coming up with that stupid trial? She'd been trying to prove a point, while at the same time appearing to be kind. Perhaps if she'd just let him go, the Norse would have left her father alone and he'd be safe. And happy. With Sigyn. And their sons. One of whom already resided with her now, while the other might not be far behind.
It was just too much. Too much that had happened in too short a time span. She was still barely a woman, yet already she had been banished, made ruler of the misty realm, lost her brothers to who knew where and her father to a new family. Even so, Loki still came to visit her on occasion. Now she would likely not see him again until that war everyone kept going on about.
Even now, she could hear him in her head, telling her that life wasn't fair and that adults didn't cry. But he wasn't here and she didn't care if he would be disappointed in her emotional outburst. She'd been through enough with her chin held high. Not this time.
It was the Aesir. That's who it was. They couldn't abide anyone who they didn't think was as perfect as they were. Anyone who didn't look like them, think like them, bow to them, and dared to be at all different. Them and their stupid prophecy.
"I hate you all!" she cried out to the empty night. She would cry, because there was nothing else she could do.