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Raising Hel, in Danmachi.

Reader mode
The Hestia bit makes absolutely no sense, considering Hestia and Hel already met in Hephaestus smithy. Why would they talk as if it was the first time they saw each other?
 
While Loki might call Hestia, 'Itty bitty'. I'm sure that if Hestia was willing to hit back stronger, then she could say that at least she (Hestia) isn't part of the itty bitty titty committee. That would instead be Loki, after all Loki was identified as a /man/ throughout myth and legend. Though Hestia is short.

tftc!
 
Chapter 80
The 19th floor—the true beginning of the Great Tree Labyrinth. Down here, the cold stone of the upper levels vanished completely, replaced by an oppressive, suffocating forest of colossal, twisting brown tree roots that served as the walls, floor, and ceiling. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and thick wood sap, and the layout was a vertical nightmare of tangled branches and sudden drops. It was a massive spike in danger; the paths were tight, the terrain was uneven, and the monsters here were built to ambush from the shadows.

Blake Belladonna squinted, her Faunus night vision allowing her to compensate and see through the heavy gloom cloaking the floor. Her hand rested tightly on the hilt of Gambol Shroud. "The air is completely different down here. It's thick, and the smell of the wood sap is throwing off my scent tracking. It feels like the entire floor is breathing."


"Hn," Fran hummed, her small fingers tapping rhythmically against Teacher's scabbard.


"Sorry, Fran. I do not have access to the magic I used to have," the sword intoned telepathically, his voice echoing cleanly in her mind. "I am unable to map out the floor for you."


Blake shivered, her cat ears flattening slightly beneath her bow as she glanced over at the companion who had been keeping pace with her. "That sword is so creepy."


"Take that back," Fran stated, her golden eyes narrowing as a rare hint of anger flared in her voice. "Teacher is Teacher."

"I apologize," Blake murmured quickly, raising a hand in defense as she kept her eyes on the surrounding canopy. "I didn't mean it like that. It's just... back in Remnant, weapons don't talk back unless you've had way too much coffee."


"No offense taken, young lady," Teacher's voice echoed in Fran's mind, though he remained silent to Blake. "But we have much larger problems than my conversational skills. Look up."

From the shadows of a massive, overlapping root above them, a monstrous form detached itself. It was a giant insect—a vicious, armor-plated Beetle-type monster unique to the upper mid-floors, easily twice the size of a carriage. Its compound eyes glowed a sickly, iridescent green, and its massive, jagged mandibles sheared through a smaller branch like a pair of hedge clippers.


"That's a lot of legs," Blake said, her eyes tracking the creature's massive, twitching limbs. "Fran, you want it?"


"Hn," Fran responded.


She gripped Teacher's hilt, and a violent explosion of crackling, blue-white energy erupted from her body. The Lightning Cloak snapped into existence, wrapping her small frame in a roaring aura of pure electricity that smelled heavily of ozone.


Before the monster could even finish its predatory screech, Fran vanished.


A blinding blur of black and blue lightning tore across the forest, and the insect was simply gone. The strike didn't even pause at the creature's armored shell; it tore right through it, carrying Fran deep into the background until she collided with a colossal tree root off in the distance with a booming echo.


Blake sighed to herself, fran stopped caring about possible damage when they unlocked her Aura an instead of being a quiet sneaky rouge cat she was the epitome of fast and loud.


===============


Back on the surface, the twilight air of the Twilight Manor's auxiliary courtyard was exceptionally biting—mostly because Weiss Schnee was currently occupying it.


Clang! Clang! Clang!


Myrtenaster flickered in the evening light, a flurry of precise, silver thrusts that left faint trails of frost hanging in the air. Across from her, Ais Wallenstein moved it was rather clunky and unrefined but the speed an power spoke for itself, it was no wonder she kept breaking rapiers.

"You are strong." Ais states getting into a stance Weiss had taught her about to launch herself.

"Strength without control is just a spectacular way to break expensive equipment," Weiss chided smoothly, though she couldn't completely hide the small, proud smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. She brought Myrtenaster up, the blade catching the dying twilight as she settled into a textbook high guard. "And keep that lead shoulder dropped! If you tense your neck like that, you're going to telegraph your trajectory before your boots even leave the cobblestones."

Ais didn't answer, but Weiss could see the subtle adjustment immediately. The Sword Princess's golden eyes narrowed, entirely locked onto Weiss's stance.

Clang!


Weiss didn't try to block it head-on; doing so would have probably shattered her wrist, given the raw, unrefined power behind the blow. Instead, she executed a lightning-fast parry, her rapier sliding along the edge of Ais's blade, using a minor gravity glyph beneath her own heel to pivot her body entirely out of the path of the strike.


As Ais flew past, her momentum carrying her forward, Weiss didn't counter. Instead, she used the flat of her blade to lightly tap the back of Ais's left thigh.


"Too much forward lean!" Weiss called out as Ais skidded to a halt, turning back around with a slight pout on her usually blank face. "If I had been a monster with a spiked hide, you would have just skewered yourself on pure momentum. Recenter your weight, Ais. Again!"

===

"Fascinating," Finn murmured, his voice low enough that it wouldn't carry down to the two girls. "I don't think I've ever seen anyone successfully lecture Ais on her footwork without getting a blank stare in return.

"Her skills speak forthemselves Fin, I mean Ais vastly over powers Weiss yet our sword princess is on the backfoot regardless." Reveria states

Down in the courtyard, Ais adjusted her footing yet again, her brow furrowing slightly as she tried to internalize the rigid balance Weiss was demanding.

"Again!" Weiss commanded, her voice crisp and uncompromising as she snapped Myrtenaster back into a defensive guard.

"She's a strict teacher," Finn chuckled softly, leaning his chin on his hand. "But a highly effective one. If Ais can actually master this level of spatial control, her efficiency in the deeper floors might get scary."
 
Chapter 81
ITTY BITTY! HEL!" Loki shouted, nearly running over to the pair.

"Father I am no longer a little girl. Please do not call me itty bitty." Hel states blandly.


"Wait father! Loki is that why your chest is flat your a guy!" Hestia shouts

Loki froze mid-stride, her raucous laughter cutting off with a violent, choked sound as if she had swallowed her own tongue.

The immediate vicinity went dead silent. A couple of Ganesha Familia guards nearby stiffened, their eyes widening in pure horror, while a minor god passing by with a plate of fruit slowly backpedaled into the crowd to avoid the impending blast radius.

Hel slowly lowered her glass of mead, her expression entirely blank, while doing her absolute best to hide her amusement.

"What..." Loki's voice dropped into a low, lethal rattle. Her usual wide, shit-eating grin vanished completely, replaced by a terrifyingly blank slate as her closed eyes slowly cracked open, revealing those dangerously sharp, ruby-red slits. "What did you just say to me, you shrimp-sized parasite?!"

"I said what I said!" Hestia shouted back, completely emboldened by her own logic. She brandished her meat skewer like a fencing foil, pointing it aggressively at Loki's chest. "Hel just called you 'Father'! And everyone knows Norse gods can change their shapes! It all makes sense now! You aren't flat because you're a goddess, you're flat because you're actually a guy under there! Ha! I cracked the code!"

"No no Hestia father is also a woman, she gave birth to my older brother after being fucked by a horse afterall." Hel corrects only making the on going situation worse.

Hestia froze entirely, her triumphant smirk instantly warping into a look of sheer, unadulterated psychological horror. She slowly turned her head toward Hel, her eyes wide, glassy, and completely traumatized.

"...She did what to a what?!" Hestia choked out, her voice barely a breathless squeak.

"Hel!" Loki finally found her voice, her face shifting from purple to a bright, incandescent, cosmic crimson. She clutched her head, her sharp teeth bared in an absolute screech of pure, agonizing embarrassment. "Why the hell would ya bring that up here?! In front of the Greeks?! We agreed we weren't gonna talk about the Tenkai years! Especially not that year!"

"I am merely correcting significant misinformation regarding your biological sex, Father," Hel replied, her tone perfectly flat, entirely detached from the shit she was stirring.

"Hestia was under the impression you were a man. I simply clarified that you are a woman who happened to transform into a mare to lure away a giant's stallion, resulting in the birth of Sleipnir. It's basic anatomy. Something something no cock like horse cock or something." Hel states blandly struggling not to grin or laugh at the look on Loki's face.

A light, musical cough elegantly interrupted the absolute mess.

"Granddaughter... perhaps you should stop bullying my son and Hestia."

The smooth, melodic voice sliced through the chaos like a silver tongue of a well experienced politician.

"Ah... Freya," Loki grunted, her sharp grin returning with a desperate, strained edge as she frantically looked for an exit. "Great. Perfect timing. Tell my kid she's a menace."


"Granddaughter?" Freya murmured, her stunning eyes shifting to Hel.


"Yes, Grandmother?" Hel answered, without a single shred of shame.


"You are a menace," Freya stated simply.


"At least I'm not a sexual deviant," Hel answered.


And half the gods in the ballroom flinched.



Freya remained perfectly still, her violet gown shimmering beneath the crystal chandeliers. For a long, agonizing moment, her expression was a flawless, unreadable mask.


Then, slowly, Freya lowered her handkerchief. Her lips parted, and a low, melodious sound echoed from her throat.


It was a laugh.


It started as a soft, breathless chuckle before blooming into a genuine, musical ring of pure, unbridled amusement that shattered the tense atmosphere.


"Oh, my dear," Freya purred, wiping a tear of mirth from her eye as she looked down at Hel with a dangerous, deeply affectionate light. "You really do possess a wonderfully sharp tongue."


Before Hel could even offer a deadpan response, Freya elegantly turned her head toward Loki, offering her a graceful, defeated shrug.


"I have to admit, Loki," Freya said, her voice dripping with a smooth, velvety charm. "She's got you there. I mean... do you even know who Hel's mother is?" Freya asked, a sharp, knowing glint dancing in her violet eyes.


Loki's loud, bark-like laughter cut off instantly. Her hand, which had been frozen mid-air after clapping Hel on the back, slowly dropped to her side. The triumphant grin on her face morphed into a sudden, profoundly uncomfortable grimace.


"Ah... now wait just a damn minute, Freya," Loki grumbled, her voice dropping an octave as she pointedly rubbed the back of her neck. "We don't need to go diggin' up the whole family tree. The kid's here, I'm here, we're having a grand ol' time—"


"Oh, please, Loki," Freya interrupted softly, her smile turning entirely wicked as she leaned forward slightly, resting her chin on the back of her laced hand. "If Hel is going to accurately educate Hestia on your biological escapades as a mare, it's only fair the little goddess learns about the giantess Angrbóda. Unless, of course, you've forgotten the mother of your own children?"

Hestia, whose brain had only just barely recovered from the image of Loki as a horse, let out another strangled gasp. She looked between Freya and Loki, her eyes wide with a brand new flavor of psychological horror. "A giantess?! Loki, you slept with a giant?!"


"She was a very looker-ish giantess!" Loki barked back defensively, her face flaring up in a brilliant shade of crimson again. "And it was a long time ago! Besides, Jotunheim gets cold, alright?! You gotta do what ya gotta do to stay warm!"


Hel slowly turned her head, her deadpan gaze settling heavily on her father. "You told me it was a political alliance based on mutual respect, Father. You did not mention you were simply cold."


"Hel, shut trap!" Loki shrieked, entirely losing her cool as half the ballroom began to openly snicker at her expense.


"At least us greeks are not like that." Hestia mutters


"How many cows does Hera have, Hestia? And how many of them have slept with Zeus?" Hel asked suddenly.


The question caught Hestia completely off guard. The little goddess opened her mouth, a fierce defense of the Greek pantheon right on the tip of her tongue, before she abruptly shut it. Her brow furrowed, her eyes darting to the side as her mind raced.


Wait, Hestia thought, a cold sweat breaking out down her spine. Hera keeps a lot of sacred cattle in her gardens.

"I... uh..." Hestia stammered, her hands twitching as she dropped her meat skewer back onto her plate. "That's... those are different!"


"Goose? Eagle? Posing as other women's husbands?" Hel continued, her relentless, deadpan inventory cutting through Hestia's desperate stammering. "A golden shower? A swan? By all accounts, Hestia, your family reunion is a hazard to both the ecosystem and civil law."


Hestia's face flushed a brilliant, panicked pink. She gripped her pigtails with both hands, her jaw dropping as she tried to form a coherent defense against the sheer weight of Greek mythological history. "T-The golden shower was a metaphor! It was about the inevitability of fate! And the swan was... it was an artistic expression of divine will!"


"What ever helps you sleep at night you virgin." Hel states

===

Ultimately, that final jab hadn't been what got her escorted to the exit. No, Hel had gotten kicked out a few minutes later when Lord Ganesha himself had marched over to try and enthusiastically de-escalate the loud bickering. Hel, entirely unbothered by his dramatic poses, had calmly informed the god that his elephant mask looked like it was carved from a cheap bar of laundry soap and probably smelled like artificial pine.


Apparently, insulting the host was a bit too far for the Ganesha Familia guards.


But it was what it was. When you have dirt on literally every pantheon in existence, a little exile from a stuffy ballroom is a small price to pay.


Sitting on a quiet stone bench a few blocks away from the roaring lights of the party, Hel took a slow, methodical sip of her tea. The night air of Orario was crisp, a welcome relief from the suffocating heat of the ballroom, and the ambient noise of the bustling streets provided a much better backdrop than a room full of immortals acting as children.
 
Chapter 82
The smell of ozone, mead, and cheap laundry soap was entirely gone. In its place came the heavy, suffocating scent of damp earth, ancient ash, and a biting chill that clung to the skin like a wet shroud.


Hel opened her eyes. Damn she fell asleep on the park bench.


An she definitely wasnt in Orario anymore. Instead, she was surrounded by the thick, rolling gray fog of purgatory—the timeless, suffocating in-between that lay just outside the boundaries of reality an in the distance lay Firelink Shrine.

"Well, I guess I'll stop by an see the firekeeper see if anymore lost souls have wondered in for me to meet." Hel murmurs

She stepped forward, her boots sinking slightly into the soft drifts of gray ash that carpeted the desolate landscape.


Up ahead, the fog began to thin just a fraction, revealing the colossal, weathered stone walls of the Lothric Firelink Shrine. Passing through the massive, arched entrance, Hel stepped into the vast, circular interior of the amphitheater.

"Welcome back, Lady Helena," the Firekeeper spoke, her voice low, melodious, and carrying the gentle weight of absolute devotion. "The ash is quiet today, yet the bell has not tolled for a new champion."


"That is weird, friend, considering that I was called here," Helena answers.


The Firekeeper tilted her head slightly, the intricate silver tiara catching the dim, ambient light of the shrine. Her blind visage remained turned toward Hel, absorbing the statement with her usual serene gravity.

"Called...?" the Firekeeper repeated softly, her fingers lacing together over her waist. "The bell remains silent, Lady Helena. No Lord has abandoned their throne today, nor has the Unkindled ash risen from its grave. Yet, if the threads of reality have pulled you back to this hearth, there must be a purpose. The flame moves in ways even I cannot always foresee."


Hel let out a short, flat exhale through her nose. "Given the sheer amount of divine nonsense I was dealing with five minutes ago, I doubt the flame had anything to do with it."


"Divine nonsense? Tell me, are you aware of a being calling themselves GOD?" a young voice asks.


Hel's eyebrows rose just a fraction, her Emerald eyes locking onto the blindfolded woman. Very clearly conveying 'no one new huh?'


"That is a remarkably broad descriptor," Hel replied flatly, her voice dripping with her usual deadpan skepticism. "In my line of work, I have run into quite a few individuals who use that title, although as one of Amaterasu's children, you should be aware that there are many gods and deities."


Out of the shadows stepped a thirteen-year-old child with blonde hair and obvious German descent, yet her soul was three, maybe four times older than that. The child took another step forward, the heavy drifts of gray ash shifting silently beneath her boots. She wore a pristine, military-style uniform that looked entirely out of place amidst the crumbling, ancient stone of the shrine, and her cold, calculating blue eyes scanned the massive, empty thrones with an expression of pure, clinical evaluation.

"Amaterasu," the young girl repeated, her voice carrying a crisp, precise cadence that completely betrayed her childlike appearance. "A fascinating mythological reference. But I am not referring to a localized sun deity from a primitive pantheon. I am talking about a self-righteous, manipulative entity that actively interferes with the natural order of human progress under the guise of divine providence."


"If you are truly talking about GOD, then the being you are describing is not him. He prefers to be very hands-off, especially after the incident involving his son," Hel states.


"Can you protect me from Being X then?" the girl asks.


"I am Hel Lokidottir. My main patron is DEATH. Very few things in this multiverse could fight me on an even footing, and next to nothing could fight my boss."

"I think I would like to go with you then?" The girl states


"May I have your name?" Hel asks


"What, NO! NO FAE BULLSHIT!" the girl shouts, her sudden, aggressive paranoia getting a genuine chuckle out of Hel.


"Sorry, sorry, that was a bit overly formal," Hel murmured, the rare amusement quickly fading back into her usual deadpan demeanor. She then blinked, her gaze shifting slightly past the child as a familiar, jarringly nostalgic sensation triggered in the back of her mind. "Wait... You there, step forward. Who are you?"


The blonde girl let out a heavy, deeply exhausted sigh, rubbing the bridge of her nose in pure exasperation. "Skyrim, really? My name is Tanya von Degurechaff. And I shall be in your care, Hel."
 
Oh, Tanya, you and your skepticism. You're going to have a major watershed moment when you realize how REAL (and unreal) being you dismiss as "gods" are and how insignificant Being-X really is in the grand scheme of things.
 
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minitune001 said:
Oh, Tanya, you and your skepticism. You're going to have a major watershed moment when you realize how REAL (and unreal) being you dismiss as "gods" are and how insignificant Being-X really is in the grand scheme of things.
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Considering the real quality of Being X is being closer to Satan testing Job than being any degree of a benevolent deity, I would have concerns to address in the divine interview too!
😅

Pascale said:
How powerful is Being-X actually?
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From a mortal's perspective? Sufficiently close to masquerade as a deity.
Edit: ...between the love of causing tragedies and stopping time, Being X feels more like Kronos trying to steal someone else's job!
 
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Common said:
Hel let her smile deepen, slow and knowing. "Perhaps they simply lack courage… or taste," she murmured, letting her gaze linger a heartbeat too long on Hephaestus before drifting to the glowing sword resting on the anvil. Then she added, with a playful lift in her tone, "It must have hurt falling from Olympus… because you, goddess, are as radiant as you are in your divine form."
Click to expand...
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I don't think anyone really picked upon this one but rereading the story I'm proud of it lmao.

Mr_Mortal said:
Hey common did you cross post this into ao3. Here's the link to it
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Yep that's me
 
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