The dawn of the Aesir is said to have been glorious, but I was not there to witness it. I, youngest of my parents' offspring, was not ignorant of the tales told among the Folk and among the gods themselves, but I learned from a young age to trust only what I could sense and distinguish myself.

Being the daughter of the Father of Lies teaches you much.

Loki- called Liesmith, Scar Lips, Father of Monsters, and, eventually, Enemy of the Gods- was absent for much of my childhood, but I remember the times I spent with him as clear as ice.

Angrboda, my mother, showed little maternal affection, but her defense of her offspring was intense in its fury and decisiveness. Her ferocity could not match Loki's cunning anymore than the Aesir's could, and I can only imagine the pang of helpless rage that welled within her when she realized he had tricked her- and her children- out of their freedom.

Loki came upon me during a cloudless night as I wandered the boundaries between worlds. He greeted me with that familiar smile, the sight of which filled me with warmth in spite of myself. For all the distance, I still loved both my parents.

I rose to my feet, half of my face hidden by wispy strands of silvery hair. “Good evening, Father.”

“So formal, daughter mine?” His grin grew wider, but as I peered more closely at his face, his dark eyes were cool, the corners smooth. A false smile. My head lowered, my body shrinking away. “There now, why so shy this evening? The Hel I know is brazen as a wealthy widow.” His laughter was rich and low, but still I averted my eyes.

Not right. Something is not right.

“So silent? Is this a punishment for your silver-tongued father: a one-sided conversation?” I said nothing, only waited. Loki had taught me the power of silence, but I had mastered it.

After a few moments, I looked up again, revealing my face in full to my father. He pursed his lips, his eyes studying the left side of my face carefully. It mattered not that he had seen it many times before: his eyes still roamed over the sunken gray flesh, the seemingly empty eye socket, the teeth bared by lips that were all but rotted away.

Father's shoulders slump, his limbs shackled by unseen chains, by his bond of blood with Odin-

I twisted my face away, shutting my eyes tight. No. I did not wish to see any of this. “Hel?” Father's hand brushed my arm. I shrank from his touch.

“Are you taking me to Asgard?” I glanced over my shoulder. Loki's eyebrows shot up, and he took a step back.

“Asgard?” he repeated. “Why do you mention Asgard?”

The chains of blood are tightening around Father, making a noose around his neck and a blindfold over his eyes-

I shook my head wildly, not wanting to see what my withered eye could show me. I couldn't question him further. Not right now. So I simply turned and starting walking at his side again, mouth firmly shut and eyes staring only at the road ahead.

Father did not speak to me of the Aesir while we traveled to Asgard, choosing instead to talk of the different worlds he had visited. He spoke of the ice folk, the dwarves, the elves...anything to bridge the silence between us. I simply observed him, noting how his brows furrowed and how gaunt his face had become. For all that he was Odin's brother by bond and blood, it was clear he had not been eating well in the All-Father's glorious hall.

Finally, I could take his meaningless chatter no longer. “Father, you speak only to distract me. Tell me what ails you.”

His smile echoed the one he'd displayed earlier: brittle, false. A dart of distress pierced my heart. Father of Lies he may be, quick with a smirk and a laugh, but he was not known for forcing a smile then.

Consequently he was terrible at it, and his reassurances rang hollow in my ears, my heart sinking farther with every step closer to Asgard. When the starkly luminous gate of the mighty fortress was within eyesight, I stopped in my tracks.

“Why are you stalling, daughter?” Loki's hand rested upon my bony shoulder, his touch ephemeral as a breeze.

I forced the words to tumble from my dry tongue. “Father, why are we here? Why have you brought me to Asgard?”

Loki chuckled softly, the sound a death rattle to my ears. “Why, my pretty girl, Odin wishes to speak to you.”

“And why does the All-Father take a sudden interest in me?” I demanded, my voice tight and low.

“Odin, blood-brother of your father and thus kin to you, mind you, wants to speak with you. For what reason, who can say?”

You could, I thought, but I did not dare voice such disrespect to my father then.

“It's not fit for you to wander all alone, not anymore,” he continued, his hand settling more firmly on my skin.

“The All-Father does,” I countered pointedly.

He laughed at that, his laughter the sharp bark of a chained beast. “When you have told all the nine worlds that you hung upon Yggdrasil for nine days and sacrificed an eye to it for knowledge and power, then I will worry no more about where or how you wander, for your lies will have surpassed mine.”

Stunned into silence, I stared at him, wondering at his boldness. “He...The All-Father will know what you have said just now,” I managed after a minute.

My father shrugged. “I see he has made a believer of you too, before you've even met him.” He gave me a long look and sighed. “I wonder if I should have taught you better, or if I have taught you just as I should,” he murmured, almost too quiet for me to hear. Before I could question him further, he took me by the arm and shepherded me forward, heeding me no more.