For we once so loved the world by HowlingDarkness95

Chapter 29

Loki felt his power swirling around him, then a harsh tugging sensation in his navel as the spell activated. He hadn't realized that the Norn's meadow was warm and comfortable until cold, biting wind whipped in his face. Putting a hand up to shield his face, he opened his eyes, a bleak landscape greeting him – dead trees dotting the ground randomly, no life around him at all. He saw movement out of the corner of his eyes and he turned, his staff in front of him protectively, but the thing was gone. He breathed in and out lightly, lowering his staff, but not his defenses. He spun around slowly, spying a huge structure looming in the distance.

The god bit his lip, he hadn't seen Hela in several centuries, and certainly not because he wanted to take a soul out of her realm. The natural magic that protected the realm prevented him from appearing in the palace directly, hence he had arrived at the outskirts of Helheim, somewhere in Niflheim. Soft whispering drifted to his ears, and he spun around, catching flashes of translucent bodies. Lowering his weapon, he realized that these were the souls of the dead. He couldn't see them outright when he was looking directly at them, but he could make out their forms if he glanced at them from the side of his eyes.

He grimaced, hoping that Percy's soul wouldn't be like that, it would be too much trouble and communication would be next to impossible. Loki sighed, everything was easier when he had gone down the dark path, things were more straightforward then and he didn't need to worry about silly things like morals and ethics. He shook his head resolutely, no, he thought, fixing his gaze on the looming structure in the distance, I am not that person any longer, I am Loki Silvertongue, I make my own path.

He ground his teeth together and set off for his daughter's castle, keeping an eye out for the horrors of the realm, the distant howls of wolves and the low moans of creatures that crawled around him. Were he any mortal, he would have freaked out or fallen into the traps of Niflheim. As it was, he was not only a god, he was Loki, and he knew better than to pay the creatures of the realm any more attention than was needed.

Though that was easier said than done.

Loki closed his eyes for the umpteenth time, gritting his teeth as he tried to block out the screams of his children echoing around him. He trudged forward, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the next, his hand clenching tightly onto his staff, the knuckles on his hand turning white with the force of his grip.

This isn't real. This isn't real. This isn't real. He chanted over and over again in his head, repeating the mantra in his head. This is not real. This is not – he flinched when he heard his son scream his name, his eyes snapping open. He jerked forward, only to pull back when he remembered that Jormungand had sent him to Atlantis to meet Poseidon. Jormungand, who was alive and whole and definitely not here amongst the dead. He breathed in deeply, ignoring the sharp bite of the cold air in his throat. Atlantis, Poseidon, Percy. He gritted his teeth and walked forward, the castle in the distance never seeming to get closer. The cries of Fenrir nearly sent him to his knees, his mind replaying memories of the way his son howled and cried for him, while he could only stare in horror as his father and his brother watched the soldiers lock him up dispassionately, his own lips sewn shut to prevent his protests.

He trudged on, tears springing to his eyes as Narfi and Vali screamed his name, Narfi's plea to save him breaking his heart as he was torn apart by his brother.

Sigyn's innocent question of 'Who are you?' shattered his heart, as he remembered the way they wiped her memory, the Vanir taking her back with them, away from him.

He saw little Hela staring at him sadly, her head tilted to one side, exposing her rotting flesh as she asked, "Why did you abandon me?"

It was too much for him, and Loki dropped to his knees, inches before the illusion of his daughter, "I am sorry." He whispered, a hand reaching out to her, "I failed you, I failed all of you."