Work Text:
In the end being a sister turned out to be much harder than she had expected. Hela often remembered her time in Asgard as easy days filled with laughter, as quiet afternoons reading with her brothers in the library, as sleepless nights in which she would rack her brain for stories to keep her brothers entertained.
She, however, often forgot the ugly parts of the position. She forgot the days in Loki got so mad at her he wouldn't even look at her. Or the nights in which Thor would flinch at her touch after a particularly bad fight. She also forgot, or maybe decided to ignore, the fact that those days outnumbered the good days.
For almost a millennia she had chosen to ignore the fact that regardless of her love for her brothers their personalities would clash more often than not, ending in vicious fights and hurtful words that would later be half-forgiven just for the sake of household peace. Hela had tried to burn those memories so desperately that when the time came to face one of these moods, she felt completely at loss of what to do.
It started simple enough, Loki was asking questions, pushing buttons, trying to know how far he could go before she snapped, and when she finally did Loki had felt the need to defend himself. It had been hours now since the fight had ended, with Loki storming off, and Hela could not quite remember what it has been about. She only knew that it had been enough to drive them both into using their silver tongues with the sole purpose of hurting one another. Now that it was over guilt settled in Hela’s stomach yet pride also chased away the urges to look for her younger brother and apologise.
Instead, she settled for walking around the palace, trying to calm her head and clear her thoughts. It had been three hard months since they had regained their memories, five hard months since Odin had died peacefully on a cliffside. It was supposed to be more comfortable now yet as time went by they found it harder to bond over nostalgic, long forgotten, memories. They often asked questions they shouldn't be asking, bringing up moments far too private or too painful.
Hela had been walking in a trance-like state, not thinking about a destination but instead wondering around the long corridors. It was no surprise that in her state, she ended up in the Astrology tower. Her mind was so far away that she did not notice Loki’s form until she was a meter away from her smaller brother. He, too, seemed lost in thought, far away enough not to notice her standing centimetres away.
For a split second, she considered leaving the tower. Then the urge passed, and she sat beside Loki, with legs dangling over the edge.
The silence was only interrupted by the sound of howling wind every once in a while. That was until Loki caved in and asked a question, only this time his voice is not laced with humour or mischief, ”We come here for the same reasons, don't we?”
Hela shrugged, ”This reminds me of our last night together.”
”Then, yes. We come here for the same reasons.”
Hela didn't answer; she instead looked at the city underneath her. In the light of the sunset, her city looked like it was on fire, people were walking and milling around minding their own business, enjoying the last warmth of the day before they had to turn on their furnaces. The lights that spread around the valley made the town look like a piece of fallen night sky.
"People would always wonder why the Princes would go to the Astrology tower when they needed time alone," Hela could feel Loki's stare, "sometimes even I would wonder that. I would find myself mid-rant, pacing around the tower, wondering if finally, I had gone crazy from all the stress."
There was a second of silence, Hela looked at Loki. His eyes were warded as if he let her see what he really felt she would judge him.
"I now know that that wasn't the case."
"Did it ever help you?"
Loki licked his lips, "Yes, more than once."
"Good," Hela looked back into the valley below her, Loki following suit, the wind blew into the back of her head making her hair fall into her face. She used her hands to push it backwards, making way for her to see the sunset. Loki fiddled with something in his wrist, Hela didn't pay much attention to him until he fully returned his attention to her.
"I could braid it if you let me."
She looked at her brother and noticed he had a hair tie around his wrist. He was playing with the band as he looked at her expectantly. Hela didn't answer, she merely turned her body so that her back was facing Loki. He set to work seconds after, using his delicate fingers to separate strands of hair and pull them into a braid. She closed her eyes letting her brother work.
"Sister," Loki sounded hesitant, "may I ask you a question?"
Hela had to stop herself from nodding, "Of course, Loki."
There were three seconds in which the wind roared loudly against the walls of the palace, "You still feel the urges don't you?"
The urges to tear down Asgard brick by brick. The urges to take away from the kingdom as much as it had taken away from her. The urges to destroy everything her father had created in the name of revenge. "Of course I do. That is the only reason I haven't allowed myself to return."
"How-" Loki cleared his throat, "how do you make them stop?"
Hela shrugged, "I do things in spite of them."
"Why?"
"Because I made a promise long ago not to turn cold and resentful." Loki tugged at one of her hair strands, then told her to hold on to the piece of hair. She obliged, but she did not fall into the weak attempt of conversation change,"Has something been troubling you, Loki?"
"I-" he stopped, and Hela felt the fingers that were working her hair falter, "Thor and I haven't spoken to each other in almost a week. We-- ah, had a fight. By the end of it, Thor said somethings that I did not want to hear."
"Were they truthful?"
"Thor rarely lies," Loki took the strand of hair from her hands and handed her another, "especially not about these matters."
"May I ask what he said?"
The fingers in her hair faltered once more, "That our paths diverged long ago. That I was bound to be the God of Lies and Mischief-"
"Just like I am bound to be the Goddess of Death and he the God of Thunder," she interjected mid-sentence.
"-but that I can be much more."
"He is right, you know." He changed her strand of hair again, "You are much more than just your birthright."
"My birthright was to die."
"Your birthright," Hela snapped, "was not to die. Your birthright was to become a powerful king." There was a deafening silence. She felt Loki's hands weaving her braid and could practically hear the gears in his head turning, trying to figure out what his next words should be. Hela, however, did not want those to be her last words. "My birthright changed when I vanished into Hel. He took everything away from me and condemned me to reign over the dead. He expected me to turn cold and become cruel without my light.
"Yes, I am the Goddess of Death, but I am also so much more than that. I'm the guide of all lost souls in the underworld and the one that helps bitter souls reach peace. I found my place once my birthright changed and so should you. You, Loki, are not only the God of Lies and Mischief. Maybe Thor did not get his message across but what I believed he wanted to say is that you are much more than what our father made you believe you are. You are much more than just the God of Lies and Mischief, or the lost prince of Jotunheim."
Loki reached for the strand of hair again, and after a few more seconds of weaving, he tied the braid. Hela turned towards Loki, he looked pensive, confused even. But there seemed to be a weight that hadn't been on his shoulders before. She reached for his face, and just like when he had done when they were kids, he leaned into the touch. Her heart soared at the action, "We are not what our father made us, Loki."
"Help me," Loki whispered, "help me be more than the person I am right now. In return, I will help you find your way home."
Hela smiled joining their foreheads together, "Of course, Loki. Of course, I will help you."