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Weregild
His name was Yahweh, Elohim, Eloah, Adonai, Shaddai, Tzevaoth, Ehyeh-Asher-Ehyeh. [*tilts head* I actually spent a while looking that up, by the way. And there are more, apparently. Titles, perhaps, more than names.YHWH is the closest we have to the actual name] His name was God. His name, for the moment, was Chuck Shurley. [I like that theory, for some reason - it tickles the part of me that's sure the Almighty has a (occasionally rather sadistic) sense of humour] His purpose ... was to find His child.
Her name was Hel. Loki's daughter, Ruler of the Halls of the Dead in Niflheim. Her name was Death among her people, though to that first and only Death, she too paid respect in her turn. [I have this theory that, in Supernatural-verse, all the Death gods of the various religions hold an external alliance (ie outside their pantheons) to the personification of Death - this is mostly because the Horseman's seven odd minutes of screentime were pure awesome, and because I like the idea of conferences including the likes of Hades, Hel, Baron Samedi and the Ghede ...] She sat before Him, midnight-black and corpse-white upon her throne. Her name was Hel, and it was to her His search had brought Him. [Incidentally, the capital 'H' is not an expression of Yahweh's 'superiority' or anything, but more a lingering remnant of the Catholicism of my birth - old habits die hard, apparently]
He was not the first father who had come to her realm in search of his son. He was the first, though, who had deigned to come in person. [Honestly, Odin! You couldn't have spared the time?]
"Lady," He greeted her, with all the respect His children lacked. It pulled a smile from her.
"Lord." She inclined her head. Hel had never failed to offer honour when it was due. [True. The mistake people made was in thinking she was soft because of it] She would not begin now. "Welcome to my Halls, First-Father." [I'm not sure why the Norse gods started calling Yahweh 'First-father' in this. Possibly because Odin is 'All-father', possibly because it makes sense as far as 'Creator god' goes, possibly because it just sounded good when Hel said it, so I kept it. *shrugs*]
He smiled, faintly. "Thank you for seeing me, Hel Lokisdottir. I know you're busy of late ..."
The hint was well-taken, but badly aimed. She wondered why He mentioned it. "Yes," she mused. "For the trouble your sons have caused, I have been well busy. For the attacks they have made on me and mine, for what was mine that they stole ... Indeed. I have been ... busy." [Again, I have a Theory - that Lucifer freed Baldur from Hel's realm when he escaped Hell, because it makes no sense for a dead Norse god to randomly show up in the middle of an Apocalypse unless someone put him there, and ... well, the two have a number of things in common - Lightbringer for their respective faiths, best-beloved in the beginning ... which, if the case, would have severely Pissed Hel Off]
He smiled at her. Gently. Without condescension, which was fortunate. Hel had never taken well to being patronised. [And I don't think Yahweh would be the kind to try it - well, not Chuck!Yahweh, anyway] "What did they steal?" He asked. He knew already, of course. He knew very well. But He was All-father of His people, and an All-father thrived on misdirection, trickery and slow guidance. [And, to be fair, given the amount of testing going on in the Bible, among other things ... I'm pretty sure Yahweh is not unfamiliar with the methods ... and in Supernatural-verse, looking back over Chuck's interactions with various angels, such as Zachariah ...] Hel knew that very, very well.
"Lucifer Morningstar, who stole Baldur from me. Lucifer Morningstar, who slew my father. You know well what was taken, First-father."
"Ah." He pursed His lips, relaxed, faux-pensive, wandering at His ease to sit in the seat of honour beneath her, staring thoughtfully into space. He who knew everything, seeming to think it over. [I honestly think Gabriel got a lot more from his Dad than he let on ...]
Hel resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Men! Honestly. [... none of which is likely to impress Hel]
"Is there a problem?" she asked politely. Pointedly. Her realm may not be suffering the vast upheavals all of His were going through, but she did have things to be doing. Sons and fathers to rejoin and separate, for example. [Baldur and Odin, her brothers and Loki, Gabriel and Yahweh ... busy times] Old grudges to repay, and debts as well. [Odin, hon, running Loki and Gabriel into Lucifer's maw was perhaps just a little unwise] The dramatics, while typical, were not ones she really felt inclined to indulge right now. [But I'm pretty sure He can't resist making them - even the Chuck incarnation showed more than a little dramatic flare ...]
"It was Lucifer who stole from you, then?" He asked again, contemplatively. "Lucifer? Not Gabriel?"
She smiled. And now they came to it ... "Gabriel's account with me is ... complicated. Why? Does it interest you?" [I love that they both know what game they're playing - or think they do - it made writing this a lot of fun]
"You know it does," He said softly. Impatient in His turn, and not fond of being patronised Himself. Good. "You have taken him. I want to know why."
"Why should I not?" she asked, casually. "He stole my father from one prison, and locked him within another. He bound his will, imprisoned him, and carried him to his death. Some might find that cause for a grudge, don't you think?" [Which was, originally, exactly what Gabriel did - freed Loki from the prison Odin put him in, but trapped him with a possession instead - he just didn't mean it maliciously, and they warmed up to each other after a while. But if someone didn't know that - which no-one aside from Loki's family and Odin would for sure - well, it doesn't look good on Gabriel's part]
"Except that is not what happened," He reproached quietly. "You must know that. Gabriel, of all my children ... That is not what happened, Hel Lokisdottir. You know it."
She tilted her head, intrigued. "You deny that Gabriel carried my father to his death, to both their deaths, against his brother?" [I'm still not completely sure why Loki let him do that, aside from wanting Gabriel's faith in his brother to be deserved, maybe - or just wanting to see Lucifer's face, for future reference ...]
"No. But I deny that Loki had no say in the matter. I deny that Gabriel imprisoned him." He smiled, very faintly. "I deny that even Gabriel, good though he was, could ever have held your father mute and helpless for centuries, and not suffered for it." [In fairness, having Loki in your head for centuries, when he didn't want to be there ... probably not healthy, in the long run]
She laughed at that, shaking her head, and stood up, coming down to His level, coming to stand beside Him. "He would have suffered for it," she agreed, smiling sharp and cruel. It was truth, after all. "From the inside out, he would have been devoured, had he tried to force my father where he truly did not want to go." A tilt of her head, a slow smile. "And so? It changes nothing. Why not tell me what you want, First-father. Why not make this negotiation short." [Let's skip forward to the part where you tell me what you want, so I can see how emphatically I'm going to say 'no' ... or how I'm going to steer you around to what I want - Games between gods are precarious]
He looked up at her. His human form, the shape He wore, was inoffensive. Shrinking. Almost feeble. But what lay within it ... those eyes had seen without trying what Odin All-father had hung upon the world-tree for nine days to gain. Those eyes had seen all that had passed for His children. That heart had mourned them, too. [My own interpretation, admittedly - but if Lucy and Mike had been your kids, and you had to watch what they did with the choice you gave them - not to mention Zach, and Raph, and Gabe, and Cas ... what all of them were driven too ...]
"I want my son," He said, very quietly. "My son, who was not yours to take. My son, who died in my Name. My son. I want him back, Hel Lokisdottir." And then, because He truly was wiser than His children, and more respectful, He added ... "Please." [Well, in pretty much all versions, Torah, Koran, Bible ... He always was possessive, and always did come for His people]
She studied Him. For a long time. Time without meaning, to the other realms, time that flowed only as she willed it, here, but time nonetheless. Time to see. Time to understand.
"You are not the first father who has come to me in search of his son," she noted, carefully. "The most powerful, perhaps, but that means little here. You know full well the success that other father met." [Hel, too, though - she holds on to what is hers, and woe betide anyone who tries to take it]
"You are not without mercy," He interrupted softly. "I know that too. Or was Odin's death in that motel an accident? Was his return to the world some days ago a mistake? Or ..." He stood in His turn, looking carefully at her. "Or did All-father make a deal with you, Hel? Did he offer his role in seeing his son returned to you, in exchange, perhaps ... for time with Baldur, here? For a death without cost, to speak to a son long dead? In the Halls of the Dead, where time means what you will it to mean, and a father may know many years with his child in the space of only a few days?" His voice softened, gentled, and there was hope and pity in equal measure in it. "Is that perhaps ... the quality of Hel's mercy?"
[Again, that's backstory to this verse - Odin had a variety of plots in motion by 5x19 - the Gabriel/Loki one had been in play since he found out about them, but when he found out Baldur had been brought back ... I have it in my head he made a deal with Hel, to help her get Baldur back in order to avoid war/Ragnarok before he was ready, but also to get time with him in Niflheim afterwards, and he married both plots into each other, and managed to pull both off by doing nothing except Lucifer & Baldur, Gabriel & Loki all do what they wanted, and showing up when it was time ... getting rewarded with visiting rights with his son, for shopping her father to First-Father's devil would totally be Odin's style]
She stared back at Him impassively. "Is that what you want, First-father? To spend your time with him here? To visit?"
He met her stare. "I am not Odin All-father. What grudge you might owe me, for my children's crimes ... it is not what you owed him. It is not of that magnitude. Not even close." [To be fair, not many grudges are, compared to the one between the Aesir and Loki's family]
"Your children violated my realm," she answered coldly. "Your children stole what was mine. Your children killed my father. Neither Odin nor his children ever managed that, First-father. The grudge I bear you and yours for that ..." [Again, point - Lucy's little rampage probably pissed any number of people off - myself included, really *still not over that ep*]
"But not Gabriel," He answered, low and vehement. "Not Gabriel. He harmed none of you. He freed your father from Odin's prison. He released your brothers as a favour to that father, albeit lessened and bound in agreement. He has given you no offense, Hel Lokisdottir! His only crime was to take Loki with him against his brother, and that act cost more than just your father's life. It cost him his own! It ..." He stopped, faltered, as she smiled. Stopped as He recognised her expression. [Gabriel, while not doing much in the way of good deeds in his time on earth, also hasn't really done anything cosmically bad - he's been the most inoffensive of the archangels, really, and wow. I never thought you could describe Gabriel as inoffensive]
"Yes," she said. "Gabriel did that. Gabriel Giant-killer. He saved the Son of Giants, and all his monstrous children. He saved my father, and befriended him. And for that, First-father ... he was owed. He was owed."
He stared. "You ..." He murmured, for a second looking as shocked as the human he emulated. "You are ... protecting him. From me. You're protecting him!" [Two things playing into that - one is that Gabriel has become part of her family, and Hel will protect him anyway for that - the second is that she has reason to believe he needs protecting, specifically from Yahweh, specifically for what he did for Loki and her brothers ... if you take The Book of Enoch into account and the fact that Gabriel was sent to destroy a race of giants, and then he turns around and frees some very dangerous ones? She has reason to think he may be called to task for that]
She pursed her lips, a faint, grim smile. "Am I?" she mused, leaning back to seat herself before Him, to offer back His earlier insouciance. "Perhaps I am. And shouldn't I? Shouldn't I, First-father?" Her voice cooled. "Your children invited Ragnarok. You let them. Your realms have descended into chaos and war, and you let them. Your firstborn invaded Midgard, slaughtered both his family and mine, and you let him. Gabriel died. And you let him. Tell me, First-father. Tell me. Am I so wrong to keep you from him, and let him have peace that little longer?" [To be fair, again, for the head of a family to sit back and abandon his family to war ... not something I'm told a Norsewoman would look kindly on]
He said nothing, for a moment. Said nothing, and sat Himself carefully down across from her. Said nothing, while He gathered His thoughts.
"You are a Trickster's daughter," He said at last. "You have watched your father's war for a long time. You have paid for it, too. You and your brothers. Paid for his nature, and his battles. And he ... It hurt him, to see you hurt that way, did it not? Hurt him. But ... did not stop him?" [Loki's not exactly the best father-figure either]
She smiled, gently. "I know where you're going with this, First-father. I know. And you are not wrong. But ... Ragnarok is done, for you and yours. For now at least. It is done. And I see no reason to let my friend, my father's friend, keep being hurt for a war he has already died for. A war I can protect him from. Do you understand?" [Hel, I think, perhaps because she's a death god, perhaps because Norse mythology wasn't really big on morality in general, doesn't care so much for who's right or wrong, only who's hers]
He looked down. "Then ... you will not return him to me?" He asked, quietly. "You will keep a father from his son?"
"I have done that before," she noted, but gently. "I am, after all, a monster. You need but ask the All-father ..."
He shook His head, cutting her off, smiling ruefully Himself. "No," He said, gently in His turn. "Not a monster, Hel Lokisdottir. Merely ... unforgiving, maybe. And perhaps ... Perhaps not without cause. No. You are no monster. But ... This is not his home. Gabriel's. Whatever you think of me, of mine ... this is not his home. Do you really believe he will be happy, here? In your grim halls? No offense, of course, but Gabriel was never ... sedate." [Which is a fair point - Gabriel being cooped up anywhere is not a fun prospect, especially for those who'd have to live with him]
She laughed, bright and amused. "Can you think of no better appeal than that?" she mused, shaking her head at Him. He flushed a little, not looking away, and now she saw it. Now He let her see it, the bright, desperate hope in His eyes, the very real fear and caring. A weak appeal, but persistent, because He intended to persist. Intended not to surrender. Intended to fight for His child. [For some reason, a line from the musical 'Joseph and his Technicolour Dreamcoat' keeps intruding here - "Children of Israel, are never alone"]
"I will make any appeal that might work," He said quietly. "Any appeal that might see Gabriel returned to his world. Not Heaven. I doubt somehow he wants to return there. But his world. His friends."
"Friends like my father?" she asked, innocently, and His head snapped up, His eyes narrowing as He stared at her. She kept her face bland, waiting. [Because Odin and Yahweh are not the only ones schemeing, here, and Hel is nothing if not patient]
"Lokisdottir," He said at last. "Trickster's daughter. You are his child, aren't you?"
She smiled, eyes sparkling. "Thank you," she said, sincerely. "I take it then that you follow my line of thought?"
"You want me ... to resurrect your father, in return for allowing me my son?" He asked, slowly, almost disbelievingly. She smiled encouragingly, motioning Him to continue. "You want me to bring back a pagan god, a pagan Trickster, no less? So that you will let Gabriel go?" [*grins* Look, I wanted them back, okay? Both of them. And Gabriel is the kind of chancer who'd suggest it, and Loki the kind who'd go along with it, and Hel just about the only creature who could maneuver Yahweh into agreeing to it - not that I think He'd be all that unwilling, mind you - it's not like Christianity in particular doesn't make a habit of interfereing in other religions]
"Odin brought his son back to me," she explained. "He abided by his deal, and allowed his blood to remain in my Halls. To release my father now, with no angel to bind him, when he was well and truly killed ... it would seem ... biased. Unfair. But if you were to bring him back, in return for your son ... The All-father wouldn't be fooled, of course, but it would be within the bounds of honour. A father for a son. It is a fair deal, bought and paid, not simply given. You see?" [That kind of thing, keeping your word, not sullying your reputation ... important to a Norse deity, yes? Especially if you're going to be picking a fight with Odin. But Hel -and Loki- were very well known for ruthlessly and exactly keeping their word]
The First-father stared at her for a long, long time. Suspicious, considering. Powerful intelligence, and the kind of sly understanding she saw often in her father's and the All-father's eyes. Minds used to sneaking around what other people happened to think were the rules. Minds used to recognising when others were doing the same. [Both of them tend to make the rules up as they go along, really, and then pretending that's the way the rules always were. Much like me, while I was writing this. *sheepish grin*]
"Why do I think you were not alone in thinking this up?" He said eventually. His mouth twitching around a smile. "Why do I seem to detect a certain a certain Trickster's hand? And perhaps ... a certain son of mine, as well?" [Well, wouldn't you suspect Gabriel, under the circumstances? *grins*]
"Oh, He is good," a male voice carried across the hall. "As suspicious as my blood-brother ever was. I know you warned me, but still ..."
Hel turned with a smile as her father strode into the hall, long, easy steps, alone in his form for the first time in a long while. Gabriel, wings outstretched, expression somewhere between sheepish and proud, walked comfortably beside him. [*bites lip* It was just such a pretty picture. I couldn't help it! I like seeing them stand together ...]
"Hello, Father," the archangel said quietly, stopping at Hel's side, leaning back a little into her father as he faced his own. Not in fear. Simply ... for comfort. Loki smiled softly at his back, sneakily protective. Hel hid her own smile, and wondered how long it would take for her father to actually admit he cared for the archangel who'd freed him all those years ago. [Loki has been slowly infected, I think, by the time he and Gabriel spent literally living in each other's pockets - same applies the other way around, too - some of Gabriel's pranks, especially in the first Trickster episode, had quite an edge of Loki's particular sense of humour]
"Gabriel," Yahweh murmured, mouth soft and crooked. "You suggested this?" [In my head, Chuck has this particularly rueful, almost-reluctantly fond expression - it must be trying, occasionally, being Gabriel's Dad]
The archangel shrugged, biting his lip. "Only a little?" he asked. "I might have mentioned, given everything Luci and our war has cost them, that you might ... be willing to help, a little?"
The First-father stood, slowly. Watching His son. "You ... believed I would come for you, then?" He asked, carefully. "After all this war. You believed I would come?" And oh, there was hope in His eyes. Real hope. Both Hel and Loki saw it, though they said nothing. This was a thing between father and child, and they both knew better than to interfere.
[I'm sorry, I had to ... imagine they were your kids. Imagine seeing what happened to them. Imagine seeing them slowly but surely lose faith in you, perhaps deservedly, seeing them slowly crumble under the weight of shattered illusions. Imagine hoping they'll be able to stand up again on their own, imagine holding out to give them that chance, to give them that freedom, and seeing nothing but hate and self-loathing and destruction come of it ... and then, after it all, in the end ... imagine finding one child who held on to some scrap of faith. Imagine finding one child with whom ... you might still have a chance. One who might still forgive you. I know, in Supernatural-verse, that God is perceived as just not giving a damn, but ... I don't buy it. There's a difference between not acting, and not caring. As Gabriel, of all of them, showed. It made sense to me that any reconciliation ... would be between those two]
Gabriel swallowed, shifting uneasily, but he met his Father's eyes. He found courage enough to do that. "I always believed in you, Father," he said quietly. "I wanted ... I wanted a lot of things, knowing I wouldn't get them, and I resented ... many things, but ... I never doubted. I never doubted you. Even after you left. Even after ... Even after things began to go wrong." [Gabriel, of all of them, would have understood, I think. Gabriel, who watched the war start, watched it fester, and held back, chose no side, out of love for all of them. Gabriel would have understood. He wouldn't have liked it, in fact I think was incredibly bitter about it, that his Father abandoned all of them rather than stopping it when He obviously had the power ... but I think, in the end, he understood. And stood up himself instead]
The First-father shook his head carefully. "Your brothers did. All of them. Even Michael, in his way. They forgot ..."
"I couldn't," Gabriel said, his face shuttered and almost afraid, but determined. "I couldn't forget, and I couldn't stay, and I know ... I know you expected better than that, but I couldn't stay. I couldn't watch what they'd become, and the humans ... It was hard to keep faith, in a Heaven you'd abandoned, but among the humans, seeing them ..." [Gabriel knows his own weaknesses. He's very cavalier about them, mocks himself for them, perhaps hates himself a little for them, but he does understand them. And in a small, defiant part of his heart, he thinks he deserves care despite them. And he does. Oh, he does]
Yahweh smiled, very gently. "Yes," He said. "Yes. You were one of the few to realise that. One of the few to remember ... what you were supposed to be fighting for. The other ..."
[I think ... I think that was one of the reasons for earth, for humanity, from Yahweh's point of view. I think that's what Lucifer didn't get. He wasn't supposed to love us more. He was supposed to maybe understand what it was like to love someone less powerful than yourself, to learn how hard it could be, sometimes, and how worth it. It wasn't so he'd love God less, and it wasn't because God loved him less ... it was to show him how he was loved, to show him how much, by giving him the chance to love something else the same way. To give all of the angels that chance. Which is why Cas, and in the end Gabriel, were the ones to pass the test. Not because they picked the right side. But because they picked a side for the right reasons. Because they learned to love something less powerful than themselves, flaws and all, and let themselves be changed by that love]
"Tell me he's not dead," Gabriel muttered. "Tell me the little idiot didn't get himself killed again." [To be fair, Cas does have an awful bad habit of getting killed ...]
First-father laughed. "Oh, he did. Of course he did. Actually, you would have been proud of him, Gabriel. Certainly I was. He threw a Molotov cocktail of holy oil at your brother. At Michael. Just so Dean could try to free his brother. That's how your little brother went down. In defense of his humans to the end."
Gabriel grimaced, but there was a gleam in his eyes, an admiration. One that matched, rather eerily, the one in her father's. Gabriel had maybe been spending a little too long in Loki's head, Hel thought. Just a little. [The Molotov was, after all, awesome, and just the kind of tricksy move that would earn Loki and Gabriel's respect, and Yahweh's too. The suicide thing, not so much. Next time, a trick that doesn't get you killed two seconds later ...]
"Father ..." he said at last. Nervous, hopping from foot to foot, and Hel wanted to shield him. To wrap him in the peace of her realm as she had threatened, promised, to take his fear and keep him safe in this place where even First-father had no authority. She had pledged herself to the Elder power, the Final power, Death, and as Its vassal, in her time and her place, even the First had no authority to supersede her own. She had the power, here, to protect Gabriel. [Can I just say again, Death's appearence in SPN? Awesome. And something I can well believe. Though how Lucy managed to bind that ... part of me suspects he didn't, though, and Death just played along for form's sake until he could pass the ring on to Dean and get the hell out of Dodge ... Anyway! Death and it's Vassals are a fundamental part of the universe, and that lends authority]
But not the right. Not between a father and his son. Not when both of them longed, so very much, not to need anyone else to stand between them. [But not on a personal level - authority in the grand scheme of things does not apply in the small, personal matters that drive us all]
"You love him," Yahweh said softly, at last, looking between Gabriel and her father, looking between the archangel, killer of giants, and the Jotunsson he had saved. Looking at the way Gabriel's wings partly shielded Loki, and the way her father in return stood ready to pull the archangel back, away from an attack. "That is why ... you love him, Gabriel. Don't you?" [*smiles* See, I had a lot of the backstory in my head already by this stage, which is why the pairing seemed so obvious and strong to me - I don't know how obvious it would be to anyone else, but I figured Yahweh, being something close to omniscient, wouldn't be long figuring it out]
The archangel swallowed hard, and refused to look back at the god behind him. Refused to meet Loki's eyes. Or even hers. And he said: "Yes. I'm sorry, Father. Yes. I've been part of him for ... for so long, and I ... Yes." [Gabriel, though, has no idea how to go about being in love, and even less idea how to explain it to his Dad ... which is rather human of him, really. *grins* Not that Loki's any better]
First-father stepped up to His son, reached out with human hand to gently lift his chin, to meet Gabriel's worried, fearful gaze. First-father reached out to His son, and smiled. "Then you would have me make this deal?" He asked, voice bright and bubbling with amusement, power, joy. "You would have me raise a pagan god, interfere in another faith, stir up who knows what kind of trouble? Make an enemy of Odin All-father? You would have me do that?" [He will. Because the Apocalypse is over, and this son, this son had faith in him, however fragile, and because it would be fun and Yahweh doesn't let himself play openly anymore very often and wouldn't mind the chance to let go a bit]
Gabriel shrugged lopsidedly, and tried a little grin. "Are you going to tell me you wouldn't enjoy it?" he challenged, bright and daring, mischievous. "Come on, Dad. Remember who you're talking to, here!" [Yea gods, I love Gabriel like this, you know that? All bright and ridiculous and challenging, hiding the seriousness and fear underneath with a grin. I love him for that, I really do]
Yahweh's smile changed, then. Softened, grew serious, gentle. Loving. "I do," He whispered, very softly. "I do, Gabriel. I remember you. My child. I remember you ..." [And his dad does too. He can't not. But it's been so very, very long, and so much has come between them in the meantime ...]
Gabriel's face moved, flickered through too many expressions to number, to explain, but chief among them was pain. Grief. Hope. Relief. Love. Simple, bittersweet, pained and joyful. Love between monsters, between gods, between an angel and his Father. Love.
"I missed you," he rasped, crumbling faintly. "I missed you, Dad. I knew you weren't coming back, not until ... not until what had to happen happened, but ... I missed you. You know?" [Supernatural really, really likes hurting them. All of them. It's only when you stop to think about it, when you ignore the rush of action, that you realise how very, very much]
"I know," First-father answered, His own voice rough, rougher than the human shape He wore would warrant. "Believe me, Gabriel. I know." He gifted the archangel a trembling smile, and gripped His son's hand.
"I should hope so," Loki muttered to her, pressing close against her, watching his archangel warily. Hel smiled up at him, at her father partly tamed, at her father who offered support for no gain of his own for the first time since she'd known him. [Norse myth didn't exactly go easy on people, either, and Loki especially was never exactly patient with other's suffering, but Gabriel has wormed his way under the god's defenses by this point, rather completely - Loki either just hasn't realised it, or is strenuously denying it to himself - Hel, on the other hand, is not in the least bit fooled]
Perhaps Gabriel was not the only one affected by their long cohabitation. Perhaps the archangel was not the only one changed, perhaps for the better.
"What say you, First-father?" she interrupted gently, stepping forward once more, moving Gabriel gently out of her way, though not enough to break his contact with his father, taking a small delight that the archangel did not flinch at her touch as so many did. Taking a small delight that Gabriel cared for her as much as she for him. Since that day so many, many years ago when he had revealed what he'd done to her father, for her father, since the day he'd curled down inside himself to let her speak to a Loki freed from Odin's vengeance ... Gabriel was hers, now. Hers to protect, hers to gather, hers to deal on behalf of. Hers to challenge First-father for, if need be, and surrender to Him to, if it was necessary. [They're not monsters. I know the myths made them out to be, and they certainly were never nice, or even especially good ... but Loki's family were not monsters. They were honourable in their way, and loyal. And Hel, in particular, took her responsibilities seriously. Once Gabriel is theirs ... he's theirs, and even Yahweh could do with stepping carefully]
"Will you deal with us?" she asked again, watching Yahweh's face, watching the flicker of challenge and mischief and intelligence there, watching the way His eyes turned repeatedly towards His son, and the way they softened then. "Will you free my father, and your son, First-father? Will you deal with Hel Lokisdottir?" [Nice and all as the reunion is, she'd rather get some concrete proof of intent before they go much further ... her family has been burned too many times, really, for anything else ...]
The First-father laughed, rich and infinitely amused, and shook His head with rueful surrender. "I don't believe I have much choice," He murmured, reaching out to touch hands with a smile, and seal the deal. "I don't believe anyone could have much choice, with all three of you to deal with." [Two tricksters and Hel ... I'd be hard put to argue, anyway. *grins*]
"Oh, there's always a choice," Loki murmured, voice hard and gleaming, but his smile was soft as he reached behind Gabriel and wrapped an arm around his waist. "Always, First-father. Sometimes, though ... the choice to strike, though more fun here and now ... would rob us of the chance for amusement tomorrow. And that ... that is a true shame, don't you think?" [Let's be honest, if Loki chooses not to strike, it's not because of any inherant sense of morality ... well. Not unless his word is involved. He doesn't break his word. That's more honour than morality, though]
"You have such fascinating priorities, darling," Gabriel murmured darkly, curling back into her father's embrace, smiling a Trickster's smile. "We should probably work on them." [Gabriel makes a nice counterpart to Loki, I think. Cruel enough to understand where the Trickster is coming from, moral enough to temper it a little. Sometimes, anyway. You know. Occasionally. *grins*]
And the First-father smiled, and joined His hand with hers and they looked on them, son and father to the First and Last, and winked with her as they sent them where they needed to be. As they sent two Tricksters back to their world, and let mischief loose once more. [A Trickster is a wonderful catalyst, after all, and besides. There's only so much you can take of Loki and Gabriel together in one sitting. On a deeper level, though ... I think He didn't want to push too far too soon, with their reunion. Gabriel's too fragile to push]
"They can work on it somewhere else," Yahweh murmured, shaking His head with an ancient smile. "Don't you think, my dear?"
"I think," Hel said, smiling proudly at the father of a stolen son, who'd come to her realm to challenge her, "I think you're exactly right, First-father." She loved her father, loved him with every shred of her being ... but between him and Gabriel, Odin and Baldur and the First-father's Ragnarok ... Quite frankly she needed the rest. [Hel agrees. And ... I think those two would get along, in many way. Opposites and counterparts, not to mention their respective families and putting up with them ...]
"Oh yes. I think you're exactly right." [Which leaves everyone set up for a new beginning, after the mess that was First-Father's Apocalypse. And me, rather accidentally at the time, set up for a whole new verse. *shrugs* I don't know how these things happen. I really don't!]
[One final note, regarding the title - it turned into something of an artefact title in this draft, maybe, but it still applies. Yahweh agreed to bring Loki back in return for Gabriel. Weregild. The cost of blood, the payment for a lost life. Or, in this case, a returned one. This was stronger in the original draft, but I liked this one better. Heh]
[End]
