#thebrightgod

A: *starts laughing* I'm sorry, brother. I saw this on Tumblr and I was dying to use it on real life.

He looked up, hearing Apollo approach and upon seeing what stood before him, his heart sank. Apollo looked tired, more tired than Baldur had ever seen him, but it was the way he held Hel that scared him. For the most part, it looked like she’d just fallen asleep in his arms but Baldur knew Hel. He knew every inch of her like it was his first language and the purple under her eyes, the blue of her lips, the way her hands didn’t hold onto Apollo.. There was something very, very wrong.

Rising to his feet, he hesitated for a moment before rushing to take hel into his arms, she was so cold, like she was when he first met her, in her kingdom. He tried in vain to warm her up, letting his light shine burningly hot against her skin. With tears already rolling down his cheeks, he laid her gently on the bed and kissed her forehead before turning on Apollo. 

Baldur pinned him against the wall by his neck, his legs dangling in mid air, “What did you do?!”

Through choking coughs and his own sobs, Apollo kicked Baldur, bringing them both to the ground, “I tried to save her! I was too late! She didn’t.. She was already too far gone!”

“How do we get her back?” Baldur questioned, his tone final. Nothing would waver his decision to bring her back.

Apollo sat against the wall and held his head in his hands, “Helheim won’t give her back.”

Baldur rose to his feet and offered his hand to Apollo, “So we take her!”

—-

The deadwalkers knew they would come, they waited. To stop them.

“She’s not here.” They both spoke, one eery voice but both had said it. “The beloved one became nothing and of nothing she became everything.”

A small chuckle from another room in the echoey castle of Elivdnir told apollo and Baldur they were talking to the wrong person. The woman’s childlike voice carried through the halls, “Don’t listen to them, the “beloved one” was her grandmother, they just can’t tell the difference.” She seemed to be taunting them, her voice raising hairs along their necks.

“Who are you, do you know where Hel is?” Baldur called to nowhere in particular, unable to know where the voice was coming from.

Apollo, hit Baldur’s arm, telling him to be quiet. From what he’d heard, mostly from Hel, the voices without faces were the ones not to be trusted. It was then she appeared; a small girl, black as night hair, pale as snow skin and the bluest eyes. “Amy. Amy Lavendine, thanks for asking.” She smiled sarcastically, “So you are the infamous in the words of Hel, ‘Мальчики Света.’ She’s said a /lot/ about you.” She pointed to Apollo, “Not so much about you, though. I can’t say I’m surprised.” She laughed again.

Apollo rolled his eyes and stepped forward, “Hel. Where is she?”

Amy leant carelessly against the wall, “Oh, they got that bit right. Your Hel became nothing then everything.”

Baldur shoved his hands in his pocket to stop his arms shaking, “What does that mean?”

Amy rolled her eyes, “She ascended. Gone. Finito. End of story. Do not pass go. Do not collect two hundred.” 

“H..how do we get her back?”