Loki and Sigyn, His Glorious Purpose

Chapter Ninety-Three

HELA'S POINT OF VIEW
I couldn't believe it. No way was this true. 

I stepped forward, studying the man before me. Looking at him was as familiar as looking into a mirror. His blue eyes meet my own with softness and adoration yet glints of fear flickered behind them. 

"Hello Hela," he said quietly, his voice gentle. This is the moment at which I knew something was not correct. I knew my father and I knew him well despite him being dead for five long years. My father rarely if ever called me by my name. To him, I was bunny or darling, anything but Hela.

"You aren't papa," I said slowly, backing away and drawing my small pocket knife.

"Hela," my mother said softly, "Shh, it's alright. Hear him out."

"No," I said firmly, "Why would I? This is a trick and it's not funny. How could you be so gullible to this? Who even is this guy?"

"Hela, listen," the imposter begged, putting his hands up in defense.

My mother sighed and shook her head. I could tell that she had now recognized the imposter's mistake as well. Even she knew I was never called Hela by papa. She glanced towards the man and gave a sympathetic look towards him. His gaze met hers and with his attention elsewhere, I lunged forward at him with my knife in hand.

In a few swift motions, my plan of attack had miraculously lead me to end up in the arms of this imposter Loki and my blade in his left hand. My wrists were held tightly behind my back. I was dumbfounded, he had disarmed me and destined me before I could even realize it. I gawked for a moment before squirming out of his grip.

"How did you do that?" I asked quickly as my mother took my hand, seemingly holding me back from attacking once again.

"You used my move against me," he said plainly, flipping the blade before pocketing it for himself.

"How do you know?" I spat, "My father taught me that and you are not  my father."

"If you would stop for a moment and just listen, I could explain," he said hastily.

I stopped and looked towards my mother for guidance. "Just give him a minute," she pleaded, "And if you still don't believe him, by all means, you can run yourself ragged trying to maim or stab or whatever you want to do to him."

"Maim and stab?" he said, his eyebrows furrowing, "Sigyn, dear, I thought we were on the same page here."

"My loyalties lie with Hela before they lie with you," she warned, "Now explain yourself whilst she's somewhat calm."

I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms as I faced this imposter of a man. My mother gently stroked my hair, subduing my suspicion for the time being.

He took a deep breath and explained, "You're right. I'm not technically your father."

I looked as if it pained him to say it and as much as I wanted to interject, I stayed quiet because of this. 

"I'm from the past, from before even meeting your mother. From 2012 to be precise. To get to the nitty-gritty of it all, I was picked up by a celestial force known as the Time Variance Authority because somehow I had messed up their so-called sacred timeline. Whilst in their custody, as a lowly criminal, I was shown tapes of all that my life could have been had I stuck to their timeline. I missed out on everything. I missed marrying your mother, missed your birth, you growing up, and I thankfully missed out on all the times I abandoned you two," he explained solemnly, his voice pained with every word he spoke. 

"So no, I'm not your father, at least from where I was picked up, I wasn't quite there yet," he admitted, "But...I made a deal with the TVA. I..betrayed a friend so that I may have the opportunity to not abandon you. I chose to come here, to this time, to right the wrongs that my future self made. No matter what it took, I had been determined to come here, to come to you," he finished.

I narrowed my eyes, mulling overall he said as my mother slowly left my side and came to his. She took his hand and flipped it palm side up for me to see. I half expected to see the scar that so famously ran down the center of it, the scar that matched my mom's palm identically. But as I cautiously looked, I saw no such mark.

"If he were just a shapeshifter trying to trick us, he would've included the scar, would he not?" my mom asked, trying to prompt me to believe what this man was saying.

"Maybe," I said softly, "Or it could just mean he doesn't know enough about the person he's impersonating."

"Fair point," he agreed, "You're clever, aren't you?"

"Quite," I said sternly, "You say you watched tapes? About what your life could have been?"

He nodded as I continued, "So what did you call me? Hm? You should have known better than to call me Hela if you had studied those tapes like you claim you did. What did you call me?"

His lips curled into a small smile and he took the knife from his pocket and gently tossed it back to me. 

"Bunny," he replied promptly as he gestured towards the knife. "And if I remember correctly, I had little rabbits engraved on the hilt of that knife, didn't I? That's what I saw at least, in the tapes."

My fingers gently traced over the two running rabbits that decorated the handle of the small blade. I bit my lip, trying to think of any more questions I could use to interrogate him.

"I may not exactly be your father, dear," he said softly, "And I may not truly know you, but those tapes became my religion. I studied them as long and as hard as I could to know as much as I possibly could about you through that screen. I saw you, my darling princess, and I knew I had to make it back here for you. To be the father you deserve."

He cautiously outstretched his left hand as he held my mother to his side with his right. I took a deep breath and slowly put my hand into his before he quickly pulled me into his arms. I melted in his embrace as it all became real for me. I knew this feeling, the feeling of being in my father's arms. Emotions bubbled to the surface and before I could stifle it all, tears streamed rapidly down my cheeks. 

"I missed you," I said quietly, hiding my face in his chest. 

"I know," he said softly, gently placing a kiss on the crown of my head, "I know, bunny."