Disclaimer: I saw Thor: The Dark World. Oh my God, my friend and I basically fell apart when –SPOILER- Loki died. Except he didn't, the little shit. So, of course, anyone who has seen the movie is wondering, "How did that insufferably sarcastic, gorgeous god survive?" Well, it seems kinda obvious to me, because I have a headcannon that makes sense and is canon to Norse mythology and the Thor comics. So, there is a realm of the dead in Norse myths, known as Nifleheim. The Hell aspect of it is called Helheim, and it's like Tartarus. So, I'm taking who rules Nifleheim into account while writing my version of how Loki came back from the dead.

Dying had not been a part of the plan. Pretending to cut Thor's hand off, and everything afterward, had been. Loki had let out some of his rage against Thor during that little scene. To say that he had once hated Thor had been an understatement. Loki had detested him, him and Odin, with every fiber of his monstrous being. They had lied to him and betrayed him, had left him to die. But he had grown past it now. But Loki had never imagined dying to save his brother. But now he was, babbling over and over about how he was a fool, how sorry he was. He had tears in his eyes, and he was afraid. Afraid of what would happen, afraid to leave.

"I will tell Father of what you did here today," Thor reassured him. Loki stared at his brother, tears burning in his throat, blurring his vision. He was so scared, so sorry for everything, so heartbroken that he would die without getting the approval he craved from the man he had once called Father. But Thor was wrong.

"I didn't do it for him," Loki choked out between gasps. He gripped Thor's hand. Brother, forgive me. Please. And then, he let himself fall back, and die.

…

Hela was lounging on her obsidian throne when he burst in, followed by her guards. She felt her lips twitch up in a smirk.

"Well, well," she purred. "Loki Laufeyson. And I thought I had seen everything." Loki bowed.

"My lady," he said formally. Hela stood, and waved the guards away.

"Leave us," she commanded coldly.

"But, my Lady Death," one began to protest.

"Leave!" Hela commanded, and they scurried away. Loki raised an eyebrow, which Hela mirrored. She knew how she looked, her dark hair falling in silky waves down her back, green eyes cold, skin stark pale in contrast to the deep purple velvet dress decorated with golden brocade that she wore.

"Interesting," Loki noted. Hela descended the dais, and walked up to the fallen god of Mischief. She drew back her hand, and slapped him hard across the face.

"That was for the incident with the Bifrost," she growled. She slapped him again. "That was for not telling me you were alive after all this time." She slapped him a third time, her self-control beginning to desert her. "And THAT was for dying again, and only coming now! I have already informed Odin of your passing! I believed you were dead, as did Sleipnir and Fenrir and Jormugandr and Sigyn!" Loki caught her wrist as she drew her hand back again.

"You told Sigyn?" He gasped, mouth agape. Hela laughed harshly.

"She knew before I even came to her," she explained. "How could you DO this to us?" Loki restrained her flying fists, green eyes identical to hers.

"I did not intend to die," he hissed. "I have only just now found your throne room, after wandering Nifleheim for so long." Hela glared at him, and, to her horror, felt her eyes begin to tear.

"This is not the first time I thought you dead," she whispered. "And the pain has not lessened." Loki's eyes softened, and he pulled her into an embrace.

"Oh, my beloved daughter," he crooned. "If I caused you pain, I apologize." He took her face in his hands, wiping away the tears that had started to fall. "I am so sorry. Hush now, do not cry. I'm here." Hela took a deep breath to calm herself, and smiled slightly at him.

"I will not tell Sigyn that you are here," she said. "Because you will tell her yourself. I will bring you back Father." Loki raised his eyebrows.

"Bringing back a soul is delicate work Hela," he cautioned. "Precarious magic."

"I am the goddess of the dead, queen of Nifleheim and Helheim," Hela shot back. "And I learned my magic from the best teacher. And I have a plan, dear Father."

…

"Sire, your granddaughter requests an audience with you," a guard said. Odin sighed, and waved her in. His mind was on other things. He had lost half of his family in this past week, both to Malekith. Was he truly cursed, unable to keep those he loved safe? His mind registered the click of heels as Hela entered.

"Allfather," she greeted, although Odin could tell that she still wore her customary sneer. Ever since he had cast her out when she was a child, that sneer had settled into her face and never left. Odin looked at her, and felt the familiar slight pang of guilt. Frigga had berated him for several months after he had cast out Loki's daughter into Nifleheim to die, and had forced him to accept her as its queen when Loki had gone and conquered it for her.

"What do you want?" He asked wearily. Hela held out her hand.

"I need you to come with me," she said. "I have a proposition for you that I believe you will enjoy. However, you need to be with me in my realm for this." Odin stood, gripping his spear tightly in his hand. Hela wrinkled her brow. "Leave that," she ordered with distaste. Odin complied, and took her slender hand. It was foolish to try and battle Hela, who had so much hatred and power all roiled up inside her, was the wrong person to cross. With a flash of darkness, they were in her throne room. Odin looked at the dark, forbearing spires.

"That's quite a redecoration," he commented dryly. Hela rolled her eyes, and draped herself on her throne, hands dangling over the sides.

"Hear my words, Allfather, for I will only say them once," she intoned. "How do you fare on Asgard?" Odin blinked. "Shall I repeat it?"

"Why should I answer?" Odin demanded. Even if he was in Hela's realm, he would not have her speak insolently to him, he who could have her killed with a word.

"It concerns my proposition," she explained. "In order to decide whether to tell you about aforementioned proposition, you need to answer the question." Odin had the answer on the tip of his tongue.

"Half of my family is dead," he responded. "My power is undermined, the people find me weak and incapable of ruling. I fear I have been on Asgard too long." Slow, ironic clapping filled the dark chamber, but it did not come from the smirking goddess.

"Well said Father," Loki sneered as he ascended the dais to stand beside Hela. "Weak and incapable of ruling are perfect words of description."

"Loki," Odin whispered. Hela stood up.

"This is my proposition, Allfather," she said. "You will go to Valhalla, and live out the rest of your days with your wife, and in exchange, my father returns to life." Odin gaped at her.

"You have brought me here to kill me?" He gasped. "Why?" Hela's mouth twisted.

"You banished me for existing, one of my brother's is bound in chains while the other is treated like a common mule," she spat. "Forgive me if you are not my favorite person." Loki placed his hands on her shoulders. Hela took a deep breath. "It is not killing, per se. Simply an exchange of souls." Odin mused it over. Yes, he had conceded that, ever since the death of Frigga, life on Asgard no longer appealed to him, but did he really want to go away, leaving behind two sons, one in love with a mortal and the other thirsting for the throne? Odin knew that Thor would be a wise ruler, but who would stop Loki from trying to wrestle control from him? But he had heard that Loki had died sacrificing himself for Thor. Surely it meant something, did it not? Odin turned to the Trickster, who was in a conversation with his daughter.

"Loki Laufeyson!" He boomed. Loki winced, and turned to face Odin. Hela rolled her eyes.

"Was 'Laufeyson' necessary?" She muttered under her breath, fixing Odin with a baleful stare. He ignored her, and instead turned to look at the man he had raised since he was a baby.

"How do I know you will not attempt to steal the throne?" He asked.

"The throne was given to me by mother during your Odinsleep," Loki explained. Odin raised an eyebrow. "And if you think that the little incident on Midgard is the rule, and not the exception," here, Loki's mouth twisted. "Then you are a rather pitiful excuse for a father." Odin gripped Loki's arm tightly, and the god winced.

"Take care, my son," he said softly. Loki's green eyes widened, and he nodded, almost imperceptibly. Odin released him and turned to Hela. "I am ready." Hela nodded, and raised her palms. There was a flash of liquid darkness, and when it receded, Odin felt lighter. As if he had been unburdened. Hela turned to Loki.

"The door to Asgard is that one," she said, pointing to a gilded door to her left. Loki nodded, placed a slight kiss on her forehead, and stepped through. Hela turned to Odin.

"Frigga is this way."

…

Loki twisted his wrists back and forth, felt his torso for the gaping hole the Kursed had left in him, arched his back, and just enjoyed the feeling of being alive.