Out of all of the people that Loki had predicted might join him (and there had not been many; for all that the beings within this school proclaimed hatred of the many headed snake, very few of them actually seemed willing to dive into battle alongside him), the one who eventually did had been rather low down on the list. He was glad to have been proven wrong however, so glad that the sensation almost felt like it would burst from his chest, as green eyes switched away from his victims writhing in painful death throes on the ground, towards the form who had come.
“Hela,” he purred, a welcoming sound as he extended one hand towards her. He would not give her the name Leah, just as he would not give Sigyn the name she kept insisting was hers. The God of Lies he may have been, but he was not going to lie for them. Loki only had the tendency to lie for his own gain, after all.
Or for some entertainment during a particularly long spell of boredom, but who cared about that.
“There are plenty to go around. You do know the tale of the multi-headed snake, I assume?” It was a delightful tale; cut one head off, two more would spring free… which made it the perfect creature for sport. Although… Loki had never truly been fond of such sports as those. They had been more suited to his brother, the hunting and fighting for so called glory in realms far beyond this… but he could pretend. When anger rushed through his veins, pretending was remarkably easy indeed.
The smile that curled his lips up from the dangerous smirk that had been in place was not entirely planned. She had not been expected, but she was welcome. He had not truly spent time with his daughter since she had broken down in his arms on father’s day. Since he had first noticed she was here. He had wanted to, but the situation between them – now that he was actually aware there was any situation at all – was awkward. Spending mortal hours in one another’s company struggling for things to say was not something he could give time to, not when Thor was now here, or when Sigyn was still being annoying obtuse and refusing to remember him.
Spending mortal hours bringing pain that was entirely deserved upon those being so rude to be in this building. Of course it was deserved, they were near her, near his little Hela, with their weapons that could strike him down – admittedly only because of the bonds he could feel even now tightening around the magic within his form – and that was not something that sat well with him at all.
It did not matter that she, like all of his children, was more than capable of taking care of herself. Loki was not going to let anything happen to one of his now that he actually had the ability to stop it. Being unable to help them before, before when they suffered at the hands of his father, made doing such a thing impossible to grasp.
Maybe that was why he stepped between her and the blast that suddenly flared through the air, from one of the mortal’s little guns.
It was a strange thing for him to have done; easier to beat it back or make it no longer there then let it strike, but Loki had evidently not been thinking clearly. All he had seen, from the corner of his vivid green gaze as he had watched his daughter with something beyond fondness, was the movement from the corner of his eye. Movement in the form of a shifting mortal, a lifting weapon, and then a blast of blue that flared through the air towards her with a ripping sound that seemed to tear all ability to hear away from him.
Though it was possible that sound was stolen from him when his back hit the wall; the force of the blast sending him with a heavy crunch into the nearby plaster. A heavy crunch and a winded gasp and then he slumped down in a shower of rubble, flickers of green fading from where they had been only moments before dancing about his finger-tips.
How he loathed this irritating little mortals and their guns.
At the sound of her true name past his lips, Hela gave Loki a playful chiding look. She’d bring it up later, should he insist on such a name around the Midgardians but for now, when the only ones in earshot were about to die at their hands, she could permit it. Besides, it was nice to hear him speak her name fondly as opposed to him saying Leah with disdain.
“That I have,” she answered, striking down another green suited soldier. “But surely for the likes of us, even with its many heads, these creatures hardly stand a chance.” And that was all she would give the agents of Hydra credit as: creatures to be slaughtered. Even for Midgardians, they were particularly low, lacking in any of the merit that might save a few of those she’d grown fond of in her time here. She sensed no power in them and from what she knew of their organization, they lacked in the sort of mental faculties and independence that might make up for their physical lackings.
They were nothing but vermin and their deaths would be savored.
Not nearly so much, however, as the goddess savored that smile. When Loki smiled at her like that, a mixture of fondness and pride and protectiveness, it was easy to forget - at least temporarily - the anger and abandonment. She knew it would come back, but for the moment, Hela wanted nothing more than to dance by his side, bringing death together.
It never would have occurred to Hela that these mortal things could truly harm Loki. Sure, she knew Odin had put some strictures on his powers when Loki had been banished here, but even knowing that, she could not have imagined what happened next. That Loki would step between her and that blast, that the blast would send him crashing into a wall, that his light would fade from fingertips as the debris fell down upon his winded form...
The word she screamed next was not in a language anyone else on campus - excepting Loki and Thor - would have recognized, but the sentiment clear enough. Though she rarely thought of him as her father and even rarer refered to him as such sincerely, in that moment, that was the word to escape her lips. Her eyes went black and death radiated from her form, striking down every Hydra soldier within sight and then some as she appeared instantly at his side. Now the grounds around them were littered with dozens of corpses but all that mattered was the harm than had befallen her father.
Tears streamed down her face as Hela willed away every speck of plaster and rubble away from Loki’s body. She cradled his head in her lap and pleaded with him, slipping back to his given name. “Loki, why you fool?!” she scolded through the tears. “They cannot harm me! What has Odin done to leave you so vulnerable to such mortal weapons?“
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