"Hel? The goddess of death?" the woman sighed as if this was not what she was expecting. Fergus' brain seemed to have frozen, only analysing half of what was going on. She gestured towards the soft chair opposite of the table, her movements so fluid and elegant, almost ethereal.

"It is Hela." Fergus nodded before reluctantly taking a seat, she seemed like someone you must try to please if you want to live another day.

Fergus should be freaking out, should try to stay conscious and not faint. But, somehow he wasn't really that fazed. Maybe it would catch up later. The woman had cat-like eyes, slightly narrowed, almost as if she didn't have a care in the world yet she was aware of everything. After a tense silence, Fergus shuffled in his seat, crossing his ankles as he leaned back and placed both of his hands on the armrests. Without realising, he had used his body language in a way to intimidate Hela, show her he was not threatened by her.

Even though he didn't realise, she did. And found it mildly amusing. "Why am I here?" Hela huffed, she'd have to teach him some manners. It was his first day home, she would let it slide, just this once. After all, the poor boy had been brought up by mortals.

"Would you care for some wine? Mead? Beer? I do not know what they gave you on Midgard." Fergus blinked groggily, breaking the eye contact and looking around the room instead. "No I'm good." the woman chuckled, making him look back at her as she took a sip of her drink. "son of a master liar, I would have expected more from you." she elegantly flicked her wrist, a horn appearing in her hand. She held it out to almost giddy Fergus. "Thank you." he took the horn, gaping as he looked into it, noticing it was half full. His head yerked up, gaze focusing on the woman who lazily swung her leg over her knee and traced the rim of the goblet with her index finger.

"What?" she looked at him from the corner of her eye, smiling knowingly. Fergus growled, leaning closer to the table as his green eyes filled with hunger, he was thirsty for information, and he knew she was merely toying with him. "you have been in the dark for a long time, but you are safe now. All will be revealed, Fenrir. You need not to get agitated here." she reached out and Fergus stilled, almost forgetting how to breathe as her cold fingers traced the side of his face. He could feel her long nails dragging over his jaw as her icy eyes seemed to pull him in.

"You are angry, that is why you are here. We will aid you. We are on your side, Fenrir. But hear closely, darling." she leaned closer, whispering in his ear with such malicious and teasing voice it made the hairs on the back of his neck rise. "Don't you dare to cross me. Your first, and your last warning. Ask questions when you're allowed to. Remember, it is my kindness that has led you here." he clamped his mouth shut as she pulled away with a smile. Something dangerous flashed through her cat-like eyes, making Fergus nervous.

He opened his mouth but closed it again once she raised an eyebrow mockingly, he felt slightly agitated, and terrified. He didn't like it, being under her thumb.

"Good, you understood." she tilted her head, studying Fergus closely. She noted his messy hair that needed to be taken care of, ghostly pale skin, tense jaw and dark blue bruises underneath his eye and on his temple. "As I am led to believe, you have no clue of your heritage, nor background?"

"No." his answer was more like a growl if anything, which once again, amused her greatly. "Your father is Loki Odinson, the god of mischief and lies. Your mother, however, is nothing else but a mere jötunn, Angrboða. A giant who seduces different gods it seems."

Gobsmacked, Fergus blinked his eyes as if he was in a dream. His father was who now? And what was his mother again? A jötunn? Giant? Is he dripping? Is she dripping?

"Okay, come again?" Hela sighed, obviously a little agitated. "I am not going to repeat myself, Lokison. We will talk more, for now, this seems to be enough. You are dismissed." she waved him away with a flick of her wrist. But Fergus' legs seemed to have turned into concrete blocks and his bones into jelly. His stillness seemed to annoy her as she flashed him her light eyes, warning him to move. He stood up quietly, only to stop as she called out to him again with this name, Fenrir.

"Take this, as my token of... peace." She waved her hand, in a swirl of black, the most important possession appeared. Things Fergus thought had been lost. He took his things, clutching the red bandana as if trying to hide it. He said nothing, pondering what should he do, should he bow? Kiss her hand? No, he probably shouldn't. So he left the room, not saying a word to the goddess of death.

The door closed slowly behind him, he didn't move a muscle. His thoughts were sluggish and somewhat slow, very different from how he usually analyzed everything.

"Hello? Mr Fenrisúlfr, anybody home?" someone sang from beside him, making his head snap towards the voice. He looked down at the small girl curiously, trying to comprehend what she just said and why is there a girl in those ghostly halls. "Yes?" she raised her right brow, the blackness in her eyes almost swirling.
"I'm Stiorra, nice to meet you properly. I chased Aurgrímnir away. He would have just pushed you into the still water and fed you to the Kraken. you do not need him on your first day here, I'll give you a tour myself." she smiled, it was probably meant to be friendly, but something about the small girl really bothered Fergus. Something was off as if she was hiding.

"Krak- you know what? I dont even want to know. And for gods sake, its Fergus." he said almost bitterly, he wasn't Fenrir, he wasn't.
Stiorra looked startled for a second before a cheeky grin crossed her face. "You've got some balls, which god?" she waved him along and they started to walk down the dimly lit halls. "What?"

"Which gods sake? I mean, we are in Helheim, in the house of Hel and you're publicly mentioning some god and not a goddess, so I'm wondering which god is it that you're worshipping then? Don't tell me it's your father?" she asked it so casually as if it was normal.

Fergus' throat went try, maybe he should watch his tongue more. "No, I didn't mean anything by it! Jesus Christ. Wait, just, no gods or goddesses! Okay? None." he stuttered a little, noticing as one guard turned his head just slightly, glaring at Fergus. Stiorra whistled "don't mention it to Hela. Man, you're seriously playing with fire here. She's the Queen after all."

"Huh?" Fergus had stopped, standing in the middle of the hall as he looked down the window. Stiorra halted, realising he wasn't following her. Instead, he was looking down at the courtyard with wide eyes, studying the people, or more likely creatures that roamed there.

There seemed to be training going on, with swords. Men were paired up and a couple of taller ones kept walking calmly, correcting mistakes, giving advice and harshly judging each soldier. But the thing was, not everyone were just people. There was a man, an instructor whose head was the one of a bulls, horns curling from the ends as his ringed nose flared as he spat at someone to keep on fighting. There was 8ft tall, blue-skinned humanoid tossing a half-snake-half-human from one end of the courtyard to another. "Hey are you alright? You look a little green."

He felt weightless, and the walls seemed to close in on him a little as Stiorras voice got further and further away. The bulls dark eyes met Fergus' just before the boy fainted.

Talk about embarrassing first day.

***
Well, not really a fan of this chapter. Sorry?

So, what are your expectations on part II? 😄