This is a retelling of a Norse myth, Baldur’s Death, from Hel’s point of view. I find it odd that almost every mythology has a proper myth for their Death God, but there’s nothing on Hel. Some even say that she was nothing more than the personification of the Underworld. Take also notice that half of her body is decayed.
Roses were black with soft details of red and blue, bending over her passage. The gardens were the favorite part of her kingdom. It was almost silent except for the song of some of the flowers, and no one would bother her here. They knew what would happen if they did. She looked up at the sky, a magical one of course, and sighed. She was lonely, but nobody could ever love a decaying half-giantess with the reputation to be nothing but a hag. She guessed she deserved it, but even her own father Loki didn’t like her. He probably wished she wasn’t born, so here she was, secluded in a realm to judge people she had no care for. S
he simply wished she didn’t have that loneliness feeling she felt every day. It was tiresome, to wish for something she never could have. Perhaps she would have to do like Hades, half-deformed as she was, and capture her own Persephone. At least she could show him her gardens in hopes it’d seduce him as much as it seduced her.
With a grunt, she walked to the exit, where one of her advisors was waiting for her.
“My apologies, my Queen, but this must be brought to your attention at one.”
Habelard was her most trusted advisor, and the least risked to be yelled at, for Hel had a sweet spot for his wisdom. He was the one who usually came to her to take care of sensitive matters such as this one.
“What is it, Habelard?” She noticed anxiety hidden in the depths of his pale eyes.
“Another god has entered Helheim.”
“Again? Does Odin think he can just put in the dark every god he despises and pretend they don’t exist?”
“It wasn’t Odin’s decision. He was murdered by his brother.”
She puffed. “Where is that god now?”
“The dining room.”
She nodded and strode to said room. Her kingdom was big, but being half a Giant had its perks, and so she was staring at the god in question with a perplex look soon enough. He was handsome, as most gods were, with a soft light emanating from his tan skin.
He made a small gasp at the sight of her, but didn’t say anything and swallowed the food he had in his mouth.
“Who are you?” She loudly asked, startling him.
“I’m Baldur. You must be Hel.”
“Never heard of you.” She approached him.
“I am – rather I was invincible, my mother made every being swear to never hurt me, but apparently someone tricked my blind brother to throw something at me that killed me.”
Hel frowned and sat down. “There’s no hesitation about who is the best trickster.”
“Loki, your father.”
“Indeed. It seems he likes to play games no one but himself enjoys.”
She watched him eat for a moment.
“Did you leave people behind?”
“My wife and my child,” he replied, not bothered by her bluntness.
“Apologies. I can hear them mourning you.”
He lost countenance for a second, like he was about to cry, and Hel regretted telling him that.
“I, uh, will let you eat. Habelard will show you your room once you’re done.”
She usually didn’t let any dead stay in her castle and would quickly dismiss them, but he wasn’t bothering her.
As time passed, her guest of honor would sometimes join her, stoic at her physical appearance and forwardness, and asked her about life here in Helheim. She first answered his interrogations with distrust, not sure why he would even bother, but she quickly realized Baldur was genuinely good, always in a good mood despite his situation and not once did he insult her.
She was in her gardens again when she heard some muffled voices at the entrance, and she turned around to see him enter, his face opening up in marvel at the sight.
“This is beautiful. Are you the one tending to this garden?”
Hel’s only eye blinked, still unused to him, and finally nodded. “I am. There’s nothing but dead to judge and plants to tend to here.”
“It must be boring, sometimes.” He was looking at her now.
“I’m used to it.”
He didn’t reply and kept a thoughtful expression on his face until she left.
She knew a God’s death was serious and rarely settled at once, and she was right. A god arrived in Helheim and requested an audience. Knowing who it would be about, she asked Baldur to assist as well.
“Greetings, Queen and Ruler of the Underworld. I am Hermod, son of Odin, and request that you free Baldur from Helheim, for he was murdered unfairly.”
On her seat, Hel sighed, her dead hand supporting her chin. “Many deaths are caused by injustice. The fact that this one is a God doesn’t change his fate.”
“What could be done to change your mind, then?”
Hel looked at Baldur, unsure for a second. She never was hesitant.
“What would be suitable for you to return to your realm?”
She noticed for the first time how his light had dimmed, his features affected by the damp and cold underworld. He was becoming like her.
She knew he was loved by many, if every thing swore to unharm him once, and so his sentence was decided. “If he is truly beloved in the world, all should weep for his loss. Only then shall I free him.”
Hermod quickly ran off to begin his task, and Hel rose from her seat. Baldur would return to his world, where he belonged.
Only he didn’t. A giantess refused to weep for him.
Hel was furious, for she knew who was being that act. She couldn’t change her words, and so Baldur was doomed. He didn’t deserve to stay in this damp realm with her, he was supposed to spread his light. Here, light was quickly extinguished.
She was sulking in her gardens when soft footsteps approached her. She turned around with a growl, intending to order them away, but it was Baldur. The snide remark died on her lips. He didn’t look better than before, but he wasn’t furious.
“You did your end of the bargain,” he declared at once. “But to stop Loki’s mischief would be to stop a hurricane with your bare hands. I do not hold you responsible for my fate.”
Hel was glad she couldn’t become flustered. “I thank you.”
“This could be a worst fate, and you’re not as evil as the tales make you be.” That made her huff in displeasure.
“They assume I’m evil because I look like this, but put a beautiful lady on my throne and they will think she’s just and merciful.”
“You’re merciful.”
Hel shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. “If I was, you’d be rushing to your family at this very moment.”
“You have to set example, which I understand. Like I mentioned, you are not responsible for my fate, but Loki is. If I had known my nightmares were because of him, I’d look to imprison him sooner.”
She thought his good spirit would annoy her, but it didn’t. He was reassuring her whereas she was used to pleas and insults.
After a moment, she said, “I’ll talk with my advisors about what we can do for your light.”
He took her hand with a smile and gestured to the gardens and the magical sky with his other hand. “Here is just fine.”
Conatus 
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