Chapter 2
Before she even opened her eyes, the first thing Helena registered was the pain in her head. Then came pain everywhere else, as if the pain itself flowed through her veins. She managed to lean over the edge of whatever it was beneath her, and vomited onto the ground below. She couldn’t recall ever feeling this horrid. Her eyes were crusted pretty badly, and she struggled to open them. As she adjusted to the low lights around what she now realized was a small bed, she saw a blurry figure in the doorway. The figure, seeing Helena’s current state rushed over to help her sit back, placing pillows behind her for support.
“Where am I?” Helena attempted to ask, her voice an unfamiliar dry whisper.
“Shh hush child, don’t try to speak just yet. You must take things slowly. I’m sure you have many questions, but for now, I need you to just drink,” The figure spoke. Helena could barely think straight, and therefore didn’t question waking up in a strange bed and immediately being force fed strange liquids from a small bowl. She had expected water, or maybe a broth, and was alarmed to have a thick-ish bitter sludge hit her tongue. Helena’s first instinct was to spit it out in the same direction she had just emptied her stomach.
The kind figure simply stroked Helena’s forehead with a cool damp cloth. “I know my dear, how wretched this particular brew can be, but trust when I say you’d rather this than the pain.” Helena had to agree. The pain was too much to bear, and she’d drink a horse’s spit if it meant that it might clear. She steeled what little amount of her mind she could gather, and pushed through drinking as she was told. Once she’d downed the contents of the bowl, the now clearer woman helped her to lay back down again, telling her to rest more. Helena didn’t argue, the urge to sleep weighing on her all too quickly.
The next time Helena awoke, what she felt was less excruciating torment, and more an unrelenting flu. She vomited again, but this time, she was able to grab a container by her bed that she assumed was for that exact purpose. She felt a bit guilty for puking directly on the floor, especially since there was no trace of it now. Having heard the commotion, the same kind woman from before made her way back to Helena’s bedside.
“Oh good! You’re awake.” The woman smiled at her, and her seemingly effort beauty made Helena wonder if she looked as bad as she felt. Looking down at herself, she saw that she was wearing a simple tunic, and was covered by more furs than blankets.
“What happened? I still don’t know where I am.” Helena’s voice sounded like her own again, but it was still very weak.
“Well, my dear, I’m afraid it’s a bit of a long story. How much do you remember?” She eyed this stranger a bit more warily than before, as she reached back into her memory. Last thing she knew, she was on her way to her usual campsite to bless her small crop…
“I was… out camping.” Helena was careful not to reveal her true intentions out in the woods.
“Now we both know that’s not entirely true. Try to remember, it’ll make the process much easier for you I swear it.” Those words caught Helena’s attention. Now, Helena you know that’s not why we’re here…
Jim. Jim had been at her camp. But why? The kind woman watched as the gears in Helena’s head started to turn. Jim had found out she was practicing. He wasn’t a fan of magick. He’d gathered a group of people… they pulled and tugged her away from her campsite… he tied her to the post...the makeshift firing squad took aim…
Helena shuddered as it all came rushing back. Jim had killed her. Well, Jim and his band of close-minded, bigoted old sacks of-
“I know this is hard to come to terms with, even after remembering, many have a hard time accepting-”
“I’m dead. Right?” Helena interrupted the woman, as she had interrupted her thoughts.
“Well, partially yes, but technically no. You are still mostly alive.” The woman responded.
“...What? What does that even mean?”
“You see, sacrificing oneself offers a bit of a… I believe loophole is the term used in your realm.”
“What do you mean ‘my realm’? Who are you?” Helena was getting a bit angry now, which was not helping the all-over headache feeling.
“My name is Freya, and this is Folkvang, one of the realms of the dead.” There was a long pause, and Helena was simply staring at, then through Freya. The goddess spoke again, but Helena didn’t absorb any of her words. She was dead. It was odd. She didn’t feel very dead- just in a ridiculous amount of pain- but she guessed to be fair, she’d never felt death before anyhow.
“You said I was sacrificed?” Helena spoke after a few more minutes of getting lost in thought.
“Well my dear, that’s the strangest part. Do you recall the incantation you recited at the time of your… well execution?” Helena flinched at the term, however accurate it may be.
“It wasn’t really an incantation of sorts. I was just spouting something I’d read once to scare them. I randomly sprinkled in other words, how could that have possibly worked?” The goddess made an astonished face, her eyebrows raised and eyes wide.
“Oh I’m afraid it worked. You appeared, bloodied and bullet-riddled at the feet of Loki the trickster, very much sacrificed. Unfortunately, there were not really any terms, or anything asked for in return of the ‘sacrifice’ and the only solution we could figure, to complete said sacrifice, was to fully heal you. Then, once awake and of sound mind, you could decide on the terms.” Freya explained.
“That’s insane”
“It is quite an unorthodox order to things, but-”
“No. No this isn’t right. I was muttering in old norse, then got shot a lot at once, and suddenly I’m face to face with an actual goddess of the afterlife. No way.” Helena shut her eyes, waving her arms a bit as she spoke. Freya watched her, waiting for her to come to terms with everything. “I died, but you brought me back somehow… And I’m not being punked? Ashton Kutcher didn’t get dusted did he?”
“I do not know that term. The loophole I mentioned earlier is why you're mostly alive. When someone is sacrificed, a portion of their soul moves on to the other side, and the rest of that soul stays in their physical being. The same binding magick that brought you to Loki, feeds off of his own magick to keep you alive regardless of your injuries. It puts you into a bit of a sleep, and many of your body's functions shut down. The difficult part was healing you from the injuries you obtained. Most sacrifices would merely have a stab wound or a few burns...” Helena interrupted her as she trailed off.
“If you healed me, why do I feel like garbage?” Helena asked. Her insides felt like they were actually twisted inside her gut. It was worse than her worst cramps.
“That drought I fed you though, helps to restart your digestive system. Typically, you do not feel your inner muscles’ constant work, but given yours haven’t moved in a while, it is causing you pain. This should not persist for much longer.” Freya looked apologetic that Helena was in as much pain as she was.
“If I sacrificed myself to Loki, then where the hell is he?” Helena had decided she was definitely angry. She was perfectly content with being dead. She didn’t want to die of course, but eventually everyone did right? So when Jim and his henchmen had raised their weapons on her, she counted herself at least lucky that she wouldn’t suffer. Yet, here she was, in the most pain she’d ever felt, all because a couple of so-called gods decided they needed her awake.
“He probably thought he quite deserved to rest, given he’d brought some girl back from the dead.” A voice said from the hall. A tall man with dark hair, in stark contrast to his porcelain features, stepped into the room. “Hello, Freya, how’s our new little pet doing?”
“Pet?!” Helena shouted, looking at Freya, who was busy scolding him for his choice of words.
“Now, Loki, if you want to fix all of this madness with any quickness I suggest you treat the girl with at least some respect. And you’d do well to remember she’s not dead. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you.”
“I only jest, my dear. Truly, I would like to know if she’s healing well?” Loki smirked, as if he didn’t truly mean the words he spoke.
“Well, she is sitting right here, if you have any questions about her” Helena snapped. Somewhere, she thought that maybe she should try to match the level of speech as the other two people in the room, hoping it might help with the decided lack of respect from the trickster.
Loki chuckled at her outburst though, “I apologize. I wrongly assumed you’d be incapable of speech this early into your recovery. This is a good sign is it not?” He still addressed his questions to Freya, however. Helena glared at him.
“I haven’t really healed many injuries to this degree, to be entirely honest. But I would wager that it is indeed a good sign. You’re quite strong dear.” Freya sounded impressed. Loki made a bit of an unreadable face, pointing his thumb toward the hall, he beckoned Freya away from Helena’s bedside. “Do try to rest, I shall return later.” Freya assured the girl, before stepping out with Loki. After a few minutes of pain without the stimulation of other beings, Helena decided to follow Freya’s advice and get some more sleep.
The next time Helena awoke, she heard rustling by her bedside. “How long was I asleep that time, Freya?” She asked before opening her eyes.
“Apparently not long enough to learn to confirm who you’re speaking to” Loki’s annoying voice answered. Helena simply groaned at him, looking over at him expectantly, albeit with a disgruntled expression on her face.. “Less than a day, but you’ve healed well. Your wounds have finally closed at least” Loki responded.
“How long do I have to stay in here? My legs will give up on me if I’m bedridden forever.” she asked. Her pain has greatly subsided, and if anything she felt antsy, and starving.
“Not too much longer. In fact,” Loki held up a dress he had just placed on a chair in the room, “Freya tasked me with bringing these to you as you slept. They’re Asgardian of course. I’m afraid the clothing you arrived in could not be saved. Not that I would have, though. It was quite hideous.”
“Hey! I sewed a lot of that myself thank you very much. It’s not like the fashion business is really booming down on earth right now.” Helena spat back. Loki only chuckled at her.
“I’ll fetch Freya to help you bathe and dress. It’s high time we got you moving again. The sooner you stop siphoning away my magick to heal, the better.” He spoke dejectedly, and as he left the room Helena decided to show the back of his head one of her favorite Midgardian hand-signs.
Freya arrived a few minutes later and assisted Helena with getting out of her bed. Her joints felt creaky and her muscles weak, but she was able to stand with Freya to lean on. Helena hadn’t expected to be so winded by the short walk from her bed to a chair by a large tub on the other side of the room. She sat and watched quietly as the goddess conjured water into the tub, steaming and clear, and added oils and salts to the bath. Helena was able to remove the simple sleeping gown she’d been living in, albeit with difficulty. Once she’d been placed into the water, she could truly smell the oils that Freya had added to the water, and feel the effects of the heat on her muscles. Even with her body more relaxed, Helena couldn’t shake her annoyance at the trickster god.
“Is he always that… irritating?” She asked Freya.
“Loki? Well, he can be a bit antagonistic at times. However, that is not always how he behaves, no.” Freya spoke of Loki with what sounded like fondness. Helena decided not to push the subject, and instead just got on with bathing, accepting Freya’s assistance when her limited mobility started to get in the way. The goddess grabbed a washcloth, and helped to scrub the grime from Helena’s skin. Helena was by no means shy, but she definitely hadn’t been bathed by someone else since she was a young child. However, it wasn’t as if she had many other options, seeing as she could barely lift her arms over her head. Merely removing that sleeping gown had pretty much taken it out of her again.
“What is the meaning of these markings?” Freya asked casually, gesturing to Helena's tattoos. “Oh,” Helena started, having lost herself momentarily to the warm comfort of the bath, “They aren’t anything too specific, mainly artwork I liked. I do have a few runes here and there, just to help with my magick, but honestly, they didn’t seem to make the biggest difference.” Freya hummed in response, examining the runes Helena spoke of, a small smile on her face. “Part of the problem is likely that these are just slightly incorrect. The effectiveness of them does depend on the accuracy,” She remarked. Helena simply shrugged, and filed away for later to ask again about how they were meant to look.
The rest of her bath was quick but effective, Freya gentle in her cleaning and making sure Helena’s hair and skin, as well as under her nails, were pristine before she helped the girl to dress in her new gown. It was similar to the plain sleeping gown in overall length and shape, granted it had a few simple pleats and embellishments and was made from a fabric that felt like silk, but was light and had a comfortable stretch to it. Freya helped her to dry and brush her hair, careful to not damage her dreads, and skillfully re-braided the sides and top of her hair. Helena was guided out of her room, and down the hall to a small library, where Loki was seated with his back to them at a large desk, multiple large old books spread out before him. When he heard Freya enter, he turned and spoke. “Good, you’re up and about. We have things to discuss, mortal.”