𝐎𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐔𝐩𝐨𝐧 𝐀 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 |𝐋. 𝐋𝐚𝐮𝐟𝐞𝐲𝐬𝐨𝐧

1 | swords and snakes

When I was born, first coming into the world full of unknown, I didn't want it to bow to me. I didn't to be a name that is feared. I wanted to exist, and to let others exist. To find joy in others finding joy. I wanted to be happy just as everyone deserved to be.

When I was four, because I don't remember the world from before then, I would listen to my father telling stories to my siblings. Mother would be cooking, and my siblings and father would be sitting around the small fire. They would all be looking at him with big wide eyes as he talked. And I could never do that. I could never bear to look at him for too long.

While he was telling stories I would be next to mother. She wouldn't let me help her cook, saying I was too young, too small, or too much of any other things. But I could not sit there with them. He never told the stories for me to hear, always for them. And I listened because I couldn't help it. I could never not listen. The stories from his religion, the Gods of Vikings were always captivating. Every story was a new adventure a new sense of longing and a new wave of excitement.

Later on, in the following days when we were left alone to play, my siblings would re-tell the stories and discuss them. Talking loudly about which story was their favorite, which God was the best.

Rebecca always liked Freyja. Finn liked Odin. Elijah and Kol would always talk about Thor and his adventures. They would ask me, which one was my favorite, God, story, everything. I would shrug, shaking my head as I said I didn't have one.

I was 8 when it god bad. I always knew Mikael's disdain for me, he never hid it. And he had hit me before then too.  But never as he had that one night when I was 8. The beating had been so brutal I forgot what it was I did to earn it and had to stay in bed for a few days.

In that time I asked Finn, who was oldest and possibly the most spiritual one of us to teach me to pray like them. Like the Vikings. He did, whenever Mikael was away Finn would spend time with me, teaching me. I never actually told him how grateful I was for that.

After that, at night, when everyone else was sleeping, I would sneak out of the house and wander down towards the woods. At the edge of the woods, since I didn't dare go further, I would kneel down on the cold ground, the twigs would dig into my legs but I wouldn't care. I would sit there, and I would pray. To him, to my favorite God.

Every night I prayed to Loki. I didn't know what it was I was praying for but I would still pray. And every night, for a second so short I would think everything was in my imagination, I would hear something slither along the leaves but I never saw anything.

When I was 10 I wanted to learn sword fighting. Mikael had been telling stories about shield maidens and I decided I wanted to be just like that. That when I grew up I would be a shield maiden.

"Nikka, are you sure?" Elijah asked, his hands trembling as he handed me one of the sword. They were heavy and when I took it I nearly fell face first with it.

"Yes Eli, now come on." I whined, lifting up the sword I barely knew how to hold. Mikael had been teaching Elijah and Finn how to wield a sword for a while now but I knew he wouldn't teach me so I asked Elijah to help me.

Elijah gave me a long look and in his gaze it was clear that he had only agreed for my sake, to not disappoint me. But this had been going on for a while now. I was a fast learned, a natural with the blade, and my brother could never deny me for long. He let out a long breath and picked up his own sword. "I'll attack, you block."

It started slow, Elijah was always slow with me. He attacked I blocked, over and over again. The woods were silent except for our panting and the clashing of our swords. It was a dance of sorts, the same movement of legs, and arms.

As we went on I got bored. Our sparring was always the same, this time I wanted more. I wanted to be the one who attached not the one who blocked. Without warning I went forward, striking my sword at my brother.

Elijah had not been expecting it. In the time it took him to process what I was doing my sword had already connected with his shoulder. It wasn't the tip of the sword, it was the side but the side was still sharp. It had cut him, and it had been deep, from his shoulder to his collar bone. 

I screamed, and so did he. The wound was gushing blood, staining his shirt a deep crimson. "Eli, I'm so sorry! I'm sorry, so sorry, Eli please forgive me!" I was hysterical, sobbing out words as I tried to press across the cut.

Apparently I had been loud enough to attract attention of villagers and along with that our parents. Mikael and Esther came running towards us. Esther's eyes were wide as she was asking me what happened. She tore Elijah from my arms and took him into her own.

I couldn't bring myself to look at my brother. Did not dare look up at my father. Mikael was silent, then he took a step towards me. He knew, he had seen the swords on the ground, had seen the wound on my brother's body. Then the second step, the third, the fourth until he was right in front of me.

He grabbed my face, forced me to look up and my eyes met his. His eyes were soulless, cold and dead. He raised his hand and hit me across the face so hard it forced my head to turn to the side. Before I could ever take a breath he had pushed me to the ground. His boot, his leg, connected with my side, kicked into my ribs.

Once, twice, again again again.

I had forgotten how many times he kicked me. My tears left my cheeks wet, the dirt sticking to my face. My teeth had sunk into my lip to keep me from screaming, had sunk to deep I was gulping down a mixture of my tears, saliva and blood.

I don't remember much from that day. My ears were ringing, my vision was blurred but I somehow made out the shape of Mikael picking up the swords. He stood over me, gripped one of the swords by the blade and brought the hilt down onto my hand.

This time I could not hold back the scream as I felt the bones of my hand break under the force of the hit. Mikael had said something but at that time I couldn't hear anything anymore. Barely I registered him leaving, Esther and Elijah long gone already, leaving me all alone on the edge of the woods.

I brought my hand to my chest after I rolled onto my back, and sobbed. My eyes were fixated on the sky, the sun already setting, and the ringing in my ears was starting to die down. More tears continued to pour from my eyes and my whole body was shaking from my sobs.

Someone moved, rustling the leaves. I did not have enough strength to look, did not care if it was a person or a wild animal coming to claim my life. I laid, closing my eyes as I waited for something to happen.

Then it slithered along my arm which was still on the ground, up to my shoulder and then placed itself atop my broken hand. I opened my eyes and my gaze met with the curious look of a snake.

I had only seen snakes a couple times before when Esther had made me go with her to collect herbs. But this one was unlike the ones I had seen. It was different. It's body had been completely black and it's eyes had been an inhuman, chilling, shade of green.

I lifted my hand and reached towards it, at first it hissed at me but then it let me touch the top of it's head. My fingers ran down it's body but it never tore those piercing green eyes away from me. I let out a breath and leaned my head back against the ground, and for a while the pain disappeared, for a while the whole world was gone.

I didn't know it at the time, I would come to realize it later. A while later, a few years down the lane later, that those few moment, that day in the woods, was my first actual interaction with him. The one I prayed to. That was the day I met Loki for the first time.