Loki's Daughter, Mortem and Mischief

Chapter Forty One

Midgard had...changed...a lot. This timeline had certainly been cruel to the planet...mainly because of me. The entire globe was a ghost town, people were scarce but there were small bits of civilization. Most of earth's largest cities had been disintegrated, no more than shells of what they once were. Life was now concentrated in the rural-more savage-parts, such as the Norweigan coast.

Somehow, New Asgard had managed to exist in this timeline. But it was very different from the place I knew. It was full of humans and concentrated far more on livestock that fishing. But what was most interesting was the religious aspect of it all. Not a single building was devoid of runes, they scattered doorways and windows with broken incantations. I couldn't imagine how heartbroken the villagers would be if they knew whatever witch inscribed those was simply full of shit.

The most grand buildings amongst the village were the churches. Somehow, the very atheist Norway I once knew had turned into a religious frenzy. They were decorated to the nines with flowers galore. Amongst the grey homes and shops, the churches were shining like bright lights. I could swear that one of the churches I past even had a stag mounted over it's doorway. It was eerie and altogether unsettling, especially given that I was getting strange looks the entire time I walked through the village. People cowered out of my way and doors shut rapidly around me.

I altered my outfit with magic. I swapped my trousers and tunic for a more appropriate Midgardian style. I figured that jeans and sweatshirt would get me less looks than the full Asgardian garb I wore.

I stopped into one of the small shops, trying to find any information I could regarding Grimnir. "Excuse me," I said as I greeted the store remnant. The old woman behind the desk looked at me, waiting for me to continue. "Forgive me but have you seen a very tall boy? Curly brown hair? Fair skin?" I asked, doing my best to be as polite as possible.

"Are you talking about George? The new kid?" she asked. Her voice was almost cautious as she spoke to me and I hardly noticed but she had stepped back-putting as much distance between her and I as possible.

"Yes, George," I replied. George, an interesting alias but I'll take it, I thought to myself.

"Do you know where he might be?" She nodded and pointed just down the way to one of the many churches that lined the streets. I offered her a quick smile and thank you before I left the shop. The door shut swiftly behind me as I began to follow her directions.

To my dismay, it seemed as though the outfit change had very little effect on the amount of stares I was receiving. It felt strange to be in place so familiar and yet be treated like an outlander. By the way people avoided me like the plague, I was beginning to get the sense that they were somehow scared of me.

As I stepped into the church, I immediately understood their sentiments. My breath was taken away as I beheld the chapel's interior. Every wall was covered in ornate paintings that glittered in gold and the most vibrant paints. From the door to the altar, a story was told along the walls and from the very beginning I was the main character amongst the portraits.

The mural depicted the desecration of Midgard that occurred under Thanos's mission. Horrifically, it showed the slaughter of two thirds of the population-demonstrating how it first began with me before Thanos truly finished the job. Blood and gore covered the walls though it was masqueraded with wildflowers and gold leaf. The walls were gorgeously painted, completed with skill that could rival even some of Asgard's finest artists. And yet, there I was amongst it all-at Thanos's side, simply desecrating the earth. I felt awful as I took it all in, to know that this was now my reality made me feel so strange. I had to sit down as I took it all in.

I hardly noticed the tears streaming down my face as I was so overwhelmed by what was before me. This was why I was treated like and outlander. I had killed their love ones all at the ripe old age of six, and now here I was being worshipped like a god. And no matter what my father may say, I knew damn well I wasn't one. Not after this. Not after what I had done.

"Hela?" a voice called from behind me. Immediately, I scrambled up from my seat and wiped my tears. "Forgive me, I was just," I began before I looked up to see who had called my name.

"Grimnir," I breathed as he came towards me. He gently took my hand in his, pulling me to an alcove.

"Why are you crying?" he asked in a whisper, oooking around to make sure that no one was around to hear us. His calloused, cold hands wiped away my tears.

"These paintings. I couldn't bear them, I just,.. I don't know. I'm being over dramatic," I said, trying to laugh away my tears. Grimnir looked at me quizzically. "Why? They worship you here, you're a full fledged Goddess in their eyes. Besides, you don't even have to reap the guilt form all of it," he said.

"That's not the point," I said as I shook my head. "And that's not why I'm here. Are you alright? Are you safe here?" Grimnir nodded but pulled me further back into the alcove where a small altar stood. "Yes I'm fine, but you have to leave," he said softly.

"What? Why? I wanted to talk to you," I insisted- As I looked up at him, he looked rather uneasy. He kept poking his head out every two seconds to make sure we were alone. He was dar from calm.

"Listen it's complicated," he said as he took off a small necklace that he wore. He hastily clipped it around my neck and pressed it firm against my chest. "What are you doing? What are you talking about?" I asked, looking up at him with furrowed brows.

"As long as this ruby's red, you'll know Im alive, okay? You'll know Im good," he rambled as I looked down at the small pendant. "Where'd you even-" I began before he clapped a hand over my mouth. I glared at him as he raised a finger to his mouth-ordering me to be quiet.

The chapel now stood silent asides from a single pair of footsteps. "George?" I heard a female voice ring out. By the pitch and sing-song value alone, I could tell it was a girl that had to be around the same age as Grimnir and I.

Stay here, he mouthed before he slipped out of the alcove. I carefully peaked my head around, just enough to see the Grimnir and the girl he was now accompanied by.

She was tall, thin too. Her skin was tanned and freckles nearly all over. She had dark honey blonde hair that fell to just above her shoulders. Her eyes glinted in the gold, a deep brown color similar to my mother's. She was nearly my complete opposite.

"Where did you run off to?" she asked Grimnir, looking as worried as can be. Her sharp brown were knit together as she looked up at him.

"No where," he said with a smile, "Everything's just fine. Are you alright?"

She nodded before she pulled him close to her and pressed her lips against his. My stomach plummeted and my cheeks grew red hot as I realized, she wasn't only kissing him but he was kissing her back. I sunk back even further into the alcove, hardly noticing the way all the flowers were wilting around me.

I felt sick but most of all, I felt stupid. I took a shaky breath, trying to ground myself despite the way my heart was racing. My first instinct was to run out, to scream and really-to hurt. I wanted to see that stupid little blonde girl beg, beg to the so called Goddess she worshipped. But just as I got the nerve to go out and target her, I was swept up into a whirlwind of colors.

Within seconds I found myself standing before Heimdall. He clicked his tongue and shook his head.

"Don't even start," I warned before stomping out of the observatory.