The End

Loki and his daughter Hel meet their end after battling with Odin's armies at Ragnarok

“Bring him DOWN!” a voice cried out from behind. As Loki spun around to face it he saw a shadow and ducked as an axe narrowly missed his face. The weapon swung in a wide arc above his head as he plunged his blade up into his attackers stomach and swiped sharply, spilling his hot guts onto the sodden ground below. The man fell forward onto his knees, axe forgotten as he grabbed uselessly at Loki’s legs. He brought his knee up and kicked the man backwards into the mud before moving on.

“ BRING HIM DOWN!”

Loki stabbed into another attacker’s chest, then another and another, bringing down foe after foe, shifting through the battlefield at a pace that belied his tiredness. In truth, he was exhausted now, unsure of how long they’d been fighting. Days, weeks? It felt like years, like this would never end.

He glanced quickly in Hel’s direction and saw her swinging her sword high on the back of the monstrous wolf Garm, splattering the surrounding enemies with the black burning liquid from the cracks in her arms. Some of the men clutched at their eyes screaming in agony as the liquid burned through their flesh allowing her the chance to run them through and add to the fallen. It was an effective strategy.

He pushed on, hacking and slashing as he went, felling anything that had the misfortune to get in his way. A young soldier, barely even a man, ran at him with his sword pointed at his chest but Loki deflected it quickly. The blade glanced off his armour, catching on the leather strapping and causing part of it to break loose but the momentum of his swing caused the boy to crash into him with a thud. His sword clattered to the ground as Loki gripped him and raised his blade. The boy’s eyes flew open in panic, “please… no… please I don’t want to die.”

“What do they call you?”

“Halr please….. please.” The boy’s shaking hands gripped the edge of Loki’s broken chest plate, pulling on him like he could still save himself if he just wished it hard enough.

“Shhhh,” Loki soothed as he brought his blade down to Halr’s collar bone. “There’s no dishonour in this Halr. This day we all die.”

He pushed down hard, plunging through the skin, into the chest cavity and piercing the boy’s heart. Halr’s eyes rolled back and blood bubbled out of his mouth in a choking sob, his trembling fingers still gripping Loki’s armour. Blood surged out of the wound as Loki pulled out, spraying his face and body as the boy began to die. Loki gripped him close and they stood there in a macabre embrace as Loki saw him through into death, their eyes locked together. “Shhh. It’s better this way,” he repeated over and over again. “It’s better that you die a warrior. Go to your forefathers Halr. Find them.”

He gurgled, his tear filled eyes beginning to close as he slid to the ground gracefully in a pool of blood, pulling Loki’s armour with him as another strap snapped under the pressure. He unbuckled the remaining straps and let it fall on the ground with Halr. “Find them.”

This private moment was interrupted by the sound of Hel’s battle cry from the other side of the battlefield and as he watched her swing at another group of soldiers, he saw the glint of metal as a spear flew through the air towards her.

It struck her squarely and knocked her off Garm’s back and onto the ground below. “NO!” he screamed and took to his heels towards her. The nearby soldiers descended on her like vultures and her screams grew louder and more frantic; almost otherworldly as they began stabbing and slashing.

“HEL!” He bellowed but he could no longer see her, only the mass of people as he dodged and weaved through the fighting. “FIGHT THEM!” It seemed to him that no matter how fast he ran however, he just couldn’t close the gap between them, she was still too far away to help. Her screams echoed around his skull, threatening to burst it open from the inside and then suddenly there was nothing at all. He knew all too well what the silence meant.

NO NO NO NO NO NO!!

The general stepped up onto the lifeless hulk of faithful Garm and held her severed head up high for all to see and it seemed for a second that Loki’s heart had stopped. He couldn’t catch his breath. His eyes fell upon his daughters face; mangled and bloodied but there was no mistaking it. He would recognise it anywhere. They’d even cleaved the bone across her nose apart. Why would they do that?

As he reached the crowd and was finally able to blast them with his magic, causing them to scurry away like insects back into the battle so he could look at her body. His heart ached so much. There hadn’t been one part of her that they hadn’t touched. They’d torn her apart, limb from limb… just like Nari. She’d been reduced to meat.

He was fixed to the spot, staring at the mess when he felt it. The dull thud in his back, pushing him forward and the sudden sensation of drowning. All the air rushing out of his lungs in one go. He coughed and frowned, unsure of what was happening. Was this dying? Why would he be dying? Then he looked down and saw it. A golden spear was protruding out of his chest. Someone had impaled him from behind while he was distracted. He touched the tip. How had it gotten though? Oh yes. He didn’t have his armour any more… the boy… he’d left it with Halr.

He blinked slowly, everything around him moving as though in a dream now as he slumped down onto his knees in Hel’s blood. The general looked down at him as he tossed her head away like it was only so much carrion, only worthy for the crows.

“So much for the house of Laufey,” he snarled but Loki barely heard him, his eyes fixated on the spear lying amongst Hel’s remains. He looked back at his own. There were golden horses etched along it, beautiful golden horses. What a strange thing to notice. “They’re the same,” he said slowly, blood pouring down from his mouth as he fell forward into the mess, his body finally giving up and letting the light take him.