-Helheim-
Hella sat quietly in the miniature throne her mother created out of the shadows. Hel sat across from Hella with her beautiful features locked in an ever-present show of apathy. Hella kept her shoulders back and sat tall in her chair, an odd thing for a child of five years to do, but Hella wanted to be just like her mother and besides the apathy, Hel was a proud woman. However, unlike Hel, Hella’s features were still drenched in the child-like innocence that Hel seemed unable to remember.
They sat in the dining hall of Hel’s Palace and ate quietly. Hel, having finished her meal, sipped at a goblet of blood, as was her nightly ritual. Hella still cut at her chicken, determined to keep her small hands steady as they carved with a knife.
It took not five minutes to pass before Hella looked up at her mother.
“Mother?”
Hel, with a wave of an arm, summoned a servant to cut the chicken. The servant stepped out of the shadows of Hella’s chair and cut slowly; it’s skeletal face and androgynous frame made it impossible to tell if it had been a man or woman, but when it completed its task, Hella nodded in thanks.
“Mistress?” A call rang out in the hall and Hel looked towards the newcomer. One of the only warriors in the realm, he still had trouble staying still under her gaze.
“Lord Týr is here, I showed him to the living quarters of your chamber, as is the usual.”
Hel nodded and waved the warrior off. She stood from her seat and turned towards her daughter, “After you have finished your meal, you may go into the gardens with your nanny.”
Hella became excited at her mother’s words, “Thank-you, Mother.” She thanked, smiling widely at the Goddess.
Her mother nodded in response and left the room, silent as a ghost.
Hella finished her meal with great speed, and cautiously stepped into the shadows of the dining hall, to only step out of them in her room. She climbed on her bed and looked out her balcony doors into her mother’s living quarters. She watched as her mother sat down across from Týr and began a game of chess with the God.
Týr was, in her opinion, one of the best among the Norse. She, though having never met the god in person, trusted him implicitly as he was one of the few that would actually keep company with her mother.
He kept his right arm wrapped in his cloak as he played, perhaps due to the fact that he lost his right hand to Hella's Uncle; Fenrir.
Týr was a tall man, standing at the near-giant height of 6'11'. His skin was a warm gold, the golden hue matching his blonde hair. His eyes were a dark brown, and in the light appeared to be a dark, dark, red. The color of his eyes was not surprising since his domain was over War.
Hella scooted closer to the window to get a closer look at the God.
He visited quite often and Hella found herself spying on the visits he shared with her mother. From what she knew, he was close with his brother,Víðarr; the only God she had actually met.
Víðarr was her only real friend, he, though silent company, he would listen to her childish ramblings when the Warriors of Helheim would not. She cared deeply for the God of Silence and Revenge. He was the closest she had ever come to having a brother. He brought her small trinkets from other parts of the nine worlds and gave them to her quietly when he saw her.
Hella decorated her chambers with these trinkets, each of them precious. But the ones she held most dear she hid throughout her mother's realm, all except her necklace; a simple piece of jewelry made of red ribbon and black mirror-like pearls. She never took it off.
Hella put a small finger on the glass and spoken words drifted out onto the balcony.
“How fairs Helheim, Hel?” Týr asked, his calm voice made Hella smile and she listened eagerly.
“It is well.” was all Hel said and Hella grimaced at the sound of her mother’s detached voice. Not something she would do if her mother was in the room, mind you.
“And your daughter?” he asked and Hella smiled. She didn’t think he’d ever noticed her.
Hel was silent for a moment. “She is well, though she grows more nosy and annoying by the day.”
Hella was hurt by her mother’s words, but she had already known that this was how her mother viewed her. She wiped a tear off her cheek with her hand and listened more.
“Is she aware of the arrangement you made between her and Víðarr? The arrangement you made with my father?”
Hel replied with a simple, “No.”
“I assumed as much.” he said, “A child as young as she would not understand the concept of marriage very well.”
Hella gagged. She understood. Well, to a degree, at least.
She pulled her finger from the glass and walked into her room. Marriage? Yucky.
Hella plopped down on her bed and leaned back against the pillows. Her new kitten, Tati, jumped up on the bed and curled up to Hella. Tati’s fur was soft, well, what remained of it was.
A skeletal servant opened the door and shambled into her room with surprising grace.
“Milady, Víðarr is here and requests your presence.”
Hella leapt off the bed and carried her kitten with her out the room and into the cold halls. When she tired of walking, she jumped into the nearest shadow and appeared in the receiving room.
Víðarr was sitting on a chair in front of the couch. His tall frame barely fit into the chair and he looked rather awkward sitting in it.
He sent her a small smile and held out a small box when she stood in front of him. Hella took the box and beamed at him.
“Hi!” she welcomed gleefully. She grabbed a pillow from the couch and sat down at his feet.
Open it.
Víðarr’s voice rang out in her head and Hella grinned. She liked the sound of it, she always had. It was melodic and sounded like a song.
Hella pulled off the ribbon that held it together and took the cover of the box off. Inside was a small bag with a gold coin. The coin glowed and when she pulled it out of the bag, and another one appeared in it’s place.
She looked up at Víðarr. “I’ve never seen a coin like this before…”
He smiled.
I came across a Greek. She said you can will the currency to change to the one you need it to be. But the coin you hold is a drachma. It is greek currency.
Hella smiled and climbed onto him and gave Víðarr a hug.
“Thank you, Víðarr!” she cried merrily.
Hella continued to sit in his lap as she babbled about what she had heard or seen since she had last seen him. Víðarr would occasionally stop her so she would breathe. He asked questions and let her talk. Hella eventually turned the topic onto what she had seen on the balcony.
Víðarr scolded her for spying but she shrugged it off. He knew she did, but he didn’t get angry; spying was simply a means of entertainment for Hella.
Víðarr’s brows rose when she moved onto the subject of marriage. He had not known that Odin had arranged a marriage. The calm god was irritated by the development. Hella was a young girl and one he saw as a sister or daughter of sorts. He knew Hella did not care about him in this way; he had heard her animatedly talk of Týr .
She had a crush on Týr and Víðarr knew she was stuck on those feelings. Every time his brother’s name was mentioned, Hella’s deathly pale skin would light up with her blush and she would quiet down, even if it were just for a few moments.
“Why do they want us to get married, Víðarr?” Hella asked him.
Víðarr was silent for a moment.
They must think it will be a beneficial alliance. A treaty of sorts between the Aesir and the Vanir.
Hella nodded at his words as if she understood, but Víðarr doubted that she really did. Hella didn’t see the rivalry between the Aesir and the Vanir as it was. She still saw it as a child would. To her, it was a pointless separation of people.
Víðarr sighed, though no sound permeated the air.
Hella was nodding off and she leaned onto his chest. Víðarr stood from the chair and carried her through the halls of Hel’s palace. He reached her room and willed the doors open.
Víðarr placed the small girl on the bed and he turned to find a small kitten walking in. The kitten jumped up on the bed and curled up against her owner’s body.
Víðarr pulled the gift out and placed it on her bedside table and walked out of the room, set on confronting Odin.
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