ICE (A Loki Story, Book 2 of the SHIELD Series) COMPLETE

Chapter 15: The Palace of Hel

After the "test" was over, Hel and Skadi were suddenly transported from a grey wasteland into the foyer of a grand palace.

As she attempted to regain her bearings, Skadi reeled backwards, not only from the shock of the sudden change of scenery, but because it was a scene that was strikingly familiar just as much as it was foreign. The bottom of her dauði hit the floor, and she used it to help steady herself as she looked around at the palace's interior.

It appeared as though whoever had built this palace had been thoroughly inspired by the palace of the Allfather. The high ceilings were held up by columns, and veins of silver creeped through the marble floors. Cold, reflective obsidian walls shone with muted grey light that twisted into odd shapes on the slightly rough surface of the stones. The windows were frosted glass, which made the light filtering into the room even more pallid than it might have been outside.

In fact, the whole palace felt like a pale reflection of the sweeping, golden grandeur of Asgard.

"This is my palace," Hel revealed, mistaking Skadi's shock for awe. "It is quite expansive. You may choose any room you like to stay in, when you wish to retire. I must warn you, you may find yourself drawn to certain places, and do not be afraid if you are. The palace is attuned to your wishes now as well as mine, and you may find that somewhere a room has already been made up for you."

Skadi barely heard her after the words "my palace." Her stomach turned at the thought of spending the rest of her days here in that dark place.

And Hel had been here for millennia. How many of Skadi's loved ones would pass on before she finally joined them? Would she be here, wasting away from deep loneliness, when she heard of the deaths of Thor and Loki? Of her father? Of Frigga and Odin?

The thought made her shiver.

"Come, Skadi," Hel said, making her way towards the great silver doors in front of them. "They're waiting for us to begin our feast."

They?

"There are others here?" Skadi's eyes widened, and she lifted her tattered skirt slightly as she hurried to follow behind Hel.

What other beings could stand being here for eternity?

Hel clucked disapprovingly. "Now, now, Skadi. I should be very lonely if I were to place anyone who came here into Helheim. A select few of those dishonored men have become my companions here, in my palace. They were men of great note on Midgard, and they often love to tell me their stories." Her right eye glinted, and she pressed her skeletal hand to the door, which slid open after so much as a touch.

The room in front of them was eerily familiar to the throne room of Asgard. Huge columns, still made of dark jet-like stones, lined the walls, and all the gold covering the walls had been replaced by a tarnished silver. An enormous throne made of the same worn metal rested on a raised pedestal, and filling the rest of the room was a long table, like the one Odin's council would gather around.

Instead of dozens of warriors, however, seated at the table were three men.

The first, seated farthest away from Hel's throne (which was positioned at the head of the table) eyed them disdainfully as they walked through the doors. He had hair cut short, in a style that Skadi had never seen the likes of on Asgard, brushed across his head in odd angles as though it would fall over his face if it were left to grow long. His face was handsome enough, with pronounced lips and stern eyes. His posture betrayed a deep-set pride, as did the disdainful look he was giving Skadi. His clothes, which seemed to be simply long cloths rather than a pants and shirt, were draped about him, and they were a pure white.