They were home, in every sense of the word. They had each other, and their company was worth more than all of the riches in all of the Nine Realms. They were simply missing Loki, and Odin wanted to very much understand how and why Fárbauti and Laufey were able to prevent the trickster from dying. His gaze returned to the Norns and Hela.
“There is nothing we can do,” he said. “At this time.”
“Correct.”
“Except to make merry and rest.”
“Again, Allfather, you are correct.” The Norns’ smiles widened.
“Then it would stand to reason we should make the best of this,” Odin murmured. He bowed his head in acknowledgement to them. “We thank you kindly for gracing us with your presence and for the insight you have shed. Lady Hela, would you join us in our, uh, festivities?”
“No.” She shook her head, her dark locks swaying across her shoulders. “As much as I would love to, there is nothing for me to celebrate.”
“Your brothers are here,” Odin pointed out. He even gestured to Fenris and Jörgmungandr. “They were not vanquished with the hordes of Jötunheim when they rose up to fight against us once more. To be certain, the fact they are here and not elsewhere is worth celebrating.”
“And for that, my heart is glad,” she replied, a thin smile on her lips. “To know they are here and not wandering in some grey abyss eases my mind, but I must still decline. My father is out there somewhere, stumbling around and in pain. My family here is not complete. There is also much to be done in the Nine, and I will not neglect my duties as Helheim’s queen. I do thank you for the invitation of hospitality. Long has it been since Asgård has done such a thing for those she regards as different.”
With a bow, Hela retreated for the door with the grace and dignity of a queen. Her words stabbed at Odin’s heart, the truth of them all too clear.
“Hela,” he began. She paused in her exit and glanced back at him. Odin offered her a smile. “You are more than welcome to return whenever you wish. You need not seek out a reason to do so nor stand on ceremony when you do. You are as much family to us as your father is.”
“Again, I thank you, Allfather,” she replied. “I will consider your offer. Now, if you please, I must see to affairs in my own realm. The souls of the dead have yet to cease in their arrival.”
Then she left. Odin glanced at the Norns.
“We, too, shall take our leave,” Urd murmured. “As with Helheim’s queen, there is much we must understand, and, unlike you,”
“We are already as rested as we”
“Need to be,” Skuld finished.
“Fair enough,” Odin replied. He faced his fellow Asgårdians. “Let us make merry.”
They raised their voices in triumph and approval. Thor’s words echoed the loudest over the din. Odin tilted his head at Frigga, and she smiled, weaving one arm under his.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Let us make merry.”
He guided her towards their rightful places at the heads of the table. Already, the wine and mead flowed into cups, and warriors regaled their tales of battle against this enemy or that. Even Sigyn joined in the storytelling, her voice strong and clear, yet sad, recalling her and Loki’s time in the cavern.
Odin sipped on his wine and fed his wolves and his ravens. He tossed a few bites of food into the hearth, sweets and bits of fish – Loki’s favorites.
‘For you, Loki, my old friend,’ he thought. ‘Stay safe, wherever you are. Know we will find you ... and free you. The morrow is a new day.’