Loki's Daughter

Don't Let Them Take Me...

Hela woke up with dry eyes and curled up in bed. She looked up and realized Loki was lying beside her, seemingly asleep.

She looked around slowly. She was curled up against his chest, her fingers laced in his shirt. She raised up slightly, feeling confused.

How did she get here?

Then she remembered. She caused the old man's death. Hela bit her lip and felt tears well in her eyes once more. She quickly blinked them back and let out a sigh.

She curled deeper into her father's chest and felt his hand on her back. She closed her eyes and buried her face in his stomach. She felt safe.

"Hel?" he murmured. Hela lifted her head to look up at him. He was staring back, his eyes barely open at the moment.

"Good morning," she whispered.

He smiled softly. "Good morning." Hela jumped up and looked around slowly. She was in her room, she knew it as soon as she saw the multiple paint blots on the walls and ceiling. Then she looked up at her father.

"When did I fall asleep?"

Loki thought for a moment. "Near eight o'clock," he said and reached over, smoothing her hair down. "It didn't take much, you were so tired."

Hela nodded slightly and rubbed the back of her neck. Loki sighed some and picked her up. He studied her face for a moment before setting her on her feet. "Get dressed and meet me downstairs for breakfast," he said softly before standing and exiting the room.

The small girl looked around the brightly painted room. It as cold in her nightgown and bare feet. In fact, Hela didn't even remember getting dressed in a nightgown. She shrugged, deciding it must have been her father's work, and hurried to get dressed.

She took her time with it. Hela pulled on a dark blue dress and white socks with shiny, black shoes. She walked over to her mirror and brushed her hair out carefully, then sighed and looked at herself. She had dark bags under her eyes and she was abnormally pale. She looked sick.

Hela shook her head and turned, walking out of the room and down the hall. Her father was in the kitchen, sitting at the table and already eating quietly. She stood at the entrance for a moment, watched, and then went inside slowly.

She sat down and began to eat quietly. The room was silent, and she was sure that if a pin dropped, she would hear it. Hela's eyes stayed locked on her food, though she wasn't hungry. She wasn't hungry at all. She felt sick.

The smell of the food was beginning to choke her. She felt her stomach churn and she let out a shaky breath.

It's fine, Hela. Calm down. Breathe.

She couldn't breathe, though. She tried and tried again to catch her breath, but she couldn't. The room was beginning to spin. The face of the old man appeared in her head.

"Hela?" Loki asked. He stopped and looked up at her. Her eyes met his, but she couldn't speak. She couldn't even breathe. She felt the room whirl and spin even more. "Hela, what's wrong?"

Suddenly she felt herself grow lighter. The floor came at her fast and she faintly heard the thud. She was lying on the floor, unable to breathe or move or speak.

She felt like she was going to die.

Tears welled in her eyes and fell down her cheeks. Was this what it felt like to die? This inability to breathe or move while the world wheels around? If it was, then what an awful thing she had done to these people!

"Hela?" Loki was at her side in an instant and pulled her toward him. The girl only choked out a sob, still finding it impossible to breathe. "Hela, calm down."