Disclaimer: I still don't own Marvel
A/N: Hey they lovely readers! It turns out I was right in that splitting this into a twoshot would motivate me, and so I'm back with a finished fic for the first time in an age! I am invigorated.
A few things to touch on before we proceed: as mentioned last time, this fic and specifically this chapter deals with racism against Asians, and the experiences of being Asian in diaspora, as well as mixed race. It also mentions intended harm to children, as pertains to Hela's backstory. This will be familiar to anyone who's already read Sympathy for Monsters, but if there are any new readers, you have been warned.
Also, there's a little swearing in this chapter. They're high schoolers, and I know I said worse at their age!
Hela was nervous.
This was, unfortunately, not a change of pace for the day. She'd been jittery all morning, worried about everything from actually getting into New York City to the act of actually spending the day with someone who was her own age - or at least the human equivalent of it.
It had turned out she needn't have worried about braving the Midgardian transportation system - Pietro was heading into the city to do some errands and offered to quite literally run her in with him - which had put one worry to rest. It had been rather fun, actually, and reminded Hela a little of travelling by Bifrost, if less intense. Unfortunately, it hadn't been the thing Hela'd been most nervous about.
The trouble, really, was the day's main event. Hela knew how to be a lot of things, but a peer was not one of them. There hadn't been many other children in the Ironwood, and so the only friends she'd had growing up had been her siblings. Then her life had fallen apart, and she had spent the past four-hundred years as an exile and child queen with the closest person in age to her being Skurge - who she loved dearly, but was older yet than Eisa and Einmyria, and she already knew how to be a sister in so many variations.
To be a friend - nevermind to someone her own age, just any sort of friend at all - was a completely foreign experience. Yes, she thought the excursion for dim sum the prior week had gone well - but watching Peter and Ned interact, she knew she was out of her depth.
Further complicating the issue was the fact that Peter couldn't make it today. He'd texted her and Ned a few nights ago letting them know that his Aunt May was going to be working a double shift the day they had scheduled for food night, and he wanted to say home and make sure the housework was done for her by the time she returned. Hela held no grudge - Peter's reasons for cancelling were far too kind for her to hold any sort of resentment - but he'd also said that it was okay if she and Ned went ahead and had food night without him.
That, quite frankly, was a terrifying prospect. Yes, dim sum lunch had gone well, and Ned didn't seem to mind her presence, but she barely knew him. She barely knew Peter either, to be fair, but at least she'd met him more than once before. But Ned had said he was "cool" with still meeting if she was, and Hela had not been about to risk sabotaging a potential friendship with both boys by saying no.
So now she was standing in front of a place called H Mart, waiting for Ned to arrive and desperately wishing she'd worn her leather trench coat despite the heat. She felt strangely exposed without it. She fiddled with her StarkPhone - the tech still unfamiliar to her - and debated how to proceed. Should she message Shuri and ask for advice? Surely she knew something of what to do, being from Midgard herself and distinctly not in exile. The other girl had expressed interest in communication, but they'd only ever met diplomatically as Queen and Princess. Would it be crossing a boundary? Or perhaps she should message Pietro, but no, she didn't want to interrupt him—
"Hela!" Hela nearly dropped her phone, but more importantly. there was Ned jogging up to her and waving. "I'm so sorry! The subway was running kinda late; I didn't mean to leave you hanging. Oh god, I left Space Royalty waiting, are you gonna like, smite me or something? I'm so so sorry—"
"No!" Hela shook her head stiffly, throwing up her hands with wide eyes in an attempt to soothe him. "There's nothing to apologize for, Ned Leeds. Really, I am just glad that you are here now."
"Oh, thank god," Ned sighed, relieved, the words coming out in a tumble. "I mean, I was so excited for today - like, I'm hanging out with the literal Queen of the Dead one-on-one! That's awesome! And then I left you waiting - that's so lame."
"Well, I assure you, there is no need to worry. This is a social visit, is it not? It is not a time for titles." Hela hesitated a moment. "...If it helps, I have been nervous about today too. I do not...often...get the chance to have social visits with those who would be my peers."
"Oh good! I mean, not good that you're nervous, but like...good to not be alone in it, you know?"
Hela nodded, some of her anxiety slipping off her shoulders.
"I do," she smiled. Ned lit up.
"Great! Wanna head in then? We do need to actually get ingredients if we want to do food night."
"Lead the way."
H Mart both was and wasn't like anything she'd expected. It was expansive, absolutely packed with foodstuffs, and somehow reminded her of the marketplace near her home back in the Ironwood despite barely resembling it at all. There were no individual vendors, but there was a man squabbling with another customer over pumpkin cakes in a way that made her nostalgic for watching her mother haggle, and Hela decided that she loved it.
Midgard was a fascinating place. She was glad to be there.
Prior to their arrival, Hela and Ned had decided to split up the cooking so that she was handling dinner and he was handling desert. Hela knew what she was making - she had mentioned baozi when they'd had dim sum and she was sticking with it - but had no idea as to what Ned wanted to make. As they wandered through the aisles in search of ingredients, Hela took it upon herself to ask.
"Oh, yeah! I didn't actually tell you what I'm making. It's called ginataan." Ned smiled as he picked up a bag of rice flour. "It's a dessert soup that my mom likes to make. You're making baozi, right? Do you want to get a bag of rice flour too?"
"Wheat flour, actually." Hela gave a little smile. "The Ironwood is rather cold, and much more suited to growing wheat than rice."
"Huh! I'd just always assumed that baozi were made with rice flour; the more you know."
"They might be here, for all I know, but the ones I grew up with definitely aren't. ...I hope that's alright..?"
"Totally fine! That's kinda the point of food night anyways: sharing food and trying new things. Anyways though, it's cool to know that sticking something in dough and eating it is apparently a literally universal thing, and not just a human thing.
"Do many peoples of Earth have similar, beyond the baozi made here?"
"Oh yeah. Dumplings, baozi, empanadas, pierogies, you name it. There's a joke that since so many cultures have a version of it, it's one of the few things all humans do."
"Well, stuffed dough is wonderful, so I can't say I hold humanity in judgement for it."
"I know right? It's delicious; I'm glad we've done it so many times."
"I agree in full." Hela, finally locating the wheat flour, paused to grab it. "I hope to try some of these other stuffed dough varieties while I am on Earth, if at all possible."
"Oh, it'll definitely be possible. You're in New York, we've kinda got everything."
"Then I am truly lucky!" Hela said the words laughingly, but they were borne from genuine emotion. Midgard had been breathtakingly kind to her in so many ways, and she was grateful for it.
She believed she always would be.
They meandered over to produce after picking up the necessary non-perishables, where Hela picked up a head of cabbage and some mushrooms and Ned gathered bananas and an assortment of tubers, including one that he told her was called ube, but often mixed up or used interchangeably with a root called taro despite being separate things.
Their last stop was at meats, where Hela chose chicken after a moment's hesitation. Back home she would've made baozi with boar meat - her mother had even once taken Hela and her brothers out to hunt a wild one - but that wasn't an option here, and while Hela knew little of Kosher laws, and certainly would want one of the Maximoff twins there with her if she were to make anything for the them, she had been told pork was non-compliant. She hoped to make these baozi again as a thank you to the Avengers team, and she certainly didn't want to make anything that would exclude Pietro and Wanda.
Actually paying for their items was a bit of an experience - before she'd left, Tony had handed her a small plastic card and told her to "have fun and put anything you get on my tab." Hela however, had no idea what the card was actually for, and passed it to a shocked and excited Ned with a small explanation before turning to pack their purchases in the colorful carrying bag Ned had brought with him. When finished, she hefted the bag onto her shoulder and turned back to the boy, who was staring wide-eyed off into the distance.
"...Is all well, Ned?"
A grin spread its way over Ned's face and he whispered:
"I can't believe I just used a debit card from Tony Stark."
Hela laughed.
"Mom, Nanay, I'm back!" Ned called as he and Hela pushed their way into his apartment. On one hand, he was impressed and excited, because Hela had insisted on carrying their groceries the entire way home, even when they stopped for boba, and wasn't even breaking a sweat.
She hadn't even set the bag down. Ned almost wished he'd pressed Peter harder about finding another radioactive spider to bite him, because now two of his friends had superstrength and that was just unfair. But also so cool.
On the other hand, Ned was extremely nervous. When he'd told his moms about food night, he remembered why Peter didn't tell MJ about the situation with Hela, and Tala and Analyn Leeds were no fools, and he'd promised Peter he wouldn't tell anyone about the whole Spider-Man thing.
Though frankly, Ned was pretty sure MJ knew, because of the three of them she definitely had the braincell, but that wasn't the point.
The point was that Ned had distinctly not told his mothers that they'd be having the Queen of Helheim as a dinner guest. Instead, he'd told them that "Hela Lucas" was a transfer student from Harbin who's Scandanavian father was a little too into Norse Mythology. Because that was the reasonable thing to say, apparently.
At least it was a better lie than "I was looking at porn," so Ned counted as a win.
What was not a win, however, was forgetting to tell Hela until they were on the subway back to his house. Thankfully, Hela had not called him crazy, and instead had nodded along, sipping intently at her peach popping bubbles as he'd explained. She'd actually agreed with his decision, commenting on the benefits of using an alias.
God, he hoped this didn't blow up in his face.
"Hi honey!" Tala Leeds called from the kitchenette. "Welcome back! Your nanay and I thought we'd go out to dinner, since you kids were cooking here. I'll be right there so you can introduce me to your friend!"
Well, moment of truth time.
"Right! Mom, this is Hela. Hela, this is my mom, Tala. And— hey, where's nanay?"
"Right here kiddo," a voice called from behind him, followed shortly by the press of a kiss to his head as its owner stepped around him. "I was just getting the mail. It's nice to meet you Hela - I'm Analyn; I'm also Ned's mom."
"It's lovely to meet you both," Hela smiled, bowing her head before visibly remembering that Americans shook hands and sticking out hers. Tala and Analyn bit back smiles with varying degrees of success. Tala took Hela's hand.
"It's lovely to meet you too. How are you adjusting, being so far away from home? You're from Harbin, right?"
"I am." Hela nodded without missing a beat, and a wave of relief crashed over Ned. "I believe I am adjusting well, though it is a fair bit warmer here than back home."
Tala laughed, relinquishing Hela's hand so Analyn could shake it.
"That it would be! And how do you like Midtown Tech?"
"I couldn't say, honestly. I am starting in the autumn; I've only ever visited."
"Well, I hope you have a good time," Analyn said, smiling properly now. "You have Ned let us know if you need anything, alright? I know you're adjusting well, but Tala and I both know how hard it is to be in a strange place by yourself."
"I… Thank you, Analyn Leeds."
"So formal! There's no need for that, dear - you can just call me Analyn."
"Oh! Yes, thank you Analyn."
Both of Ned's mothers smiled, and Tala looped an arm through her wife's elbow.
"Well, we better get going. You kids have fun and don't set anything on fire, alright?"
"Yes mom!" Ned beamed. Hela nodded.
"It was nice to meet you, Hela," Analyn offered as she and Tala stepped out the door. "We'll be back at ten!"
The lock clicked in the door.
"Hela, that was amazing! My moms didn't suspect a thing! Where'd you learn to act like that?"
Hela grinned.
"I've spent half my life in business meetings with Odin - who, mind you, wanted to have me executed when I was a child. I had to learn to stay sane. Also, my mother is a political dissident and my father's the God of Lies, so I think my picking it up was inevitable."
Ned blinked. They didn't have time to unpack all of that.
"Yeah, that sounds like it'd do it."
"Honestly, I'm glad you told them I was Hela Lucas - I would have— Well, I have often found it easier to play a role than anything else. So, thank you."
"Uh, you're welcome?" Personally, Ned thought that was kind of sad, but he certainly wasn't about to press Hela about it further. Instead, he led her into the kitchenette, where it turned out that his mom had been setting things up for them.
His mom was the best.
Soon enough, the tapioca was boiling away on the stove and Ned had begun working his rice flour into dough to make bilo bilo. This had always been his favorite part of making ginataan as a child, rolling the gluttonous rice balls, and he told Hela as much, prompting her to tell him that pinching dumplings had been her favorite culinary activity growing up.
They swapped stories like that for a while, and while it was clear they'd led very different lives, Ned found that the conversation came easily. Yeah, it was absolutely buck wild to hear about how Hela's mother had taken her boar hunting as a child, and that Hela - feeling jealous that her brothers were able to do more as a giant wolf and a giant snake - later re-animated the boar's skeleton to chase them with it, but Hela also cackled when he explained to her who Yoda was, and how he'd insisted on talking like him for a whole week after seeing the Empire Strikes Back for the first time. Different circumstances, similar feral child energies.
The commonality of it was nice, if also really weird.
"This food night you and Peter have, it's a lovely tradition," Hela commented as she wrapped and twisted the dough of her baozi around the filling. "May I ask what inspired it?"
Ned, who had been dicing sweet potatoes, slowed to a halt.
"Uh, when I was little people used to make fun of the food I'd bring to school," he fiddled with a sweet potato idly, eyes fixed on the chopping board. "It didn't matter that it tasted good, or that I liked it, they just… it was Asian and not American and weird to them. And since I was born in diaspora, people took that as an excuse to make fun of me for it, I guess? Like it made me 'not really Asian' and 'not really Filipino' so they got a pass to be racist or something."
Ned heard Hela's breath hitch slightly.
"So when I finally found friends who were, you know, actually interested in learning about other cultures and eating other things… I kinda jumped on it? And Peter and I just…kept it up."
He didn't mention how long it'd taken him to get the courage to share. How, for a short and strangling time, he'd wished he could just be American instead of some permanent other.
How long it had taken him to love being Filipino again.
"I was born in the Ironwood," Hela's voice cut through his musings, and when he looked up he found that she now couldn't look at him, staring intently instead at the pot of coconut milk rising to the boil on the stove. "But my father is of Asgard. Asgard has a certain...presence...over the Nine Realms, and as such they were wary of me, even though the Ironwood was my home and the home of my Most Venerable Mother's ancestors. They wanted me to be one or the other, and I could not be, and sometimes, after everything that has come to pass, after everything Loki of Asgard has done… Sometimes I wonder if they were right to be afraid, even as I know that it was wrong."
Hela sighed, but when she turned to him the set of her shoulders was determined and her eyes kind.
"I know it is not the same, Ned Leeds, but know that I hear you. I… I can relate to having those around you wish you were something else."
The fact that her grandfather, if on the other side of her heritage, had wanted her dead hung heavy and unspoken between them.
"Well, I think it's bullshit."
That dragged a snort of laughter out of Hela, and soon Ned was laughing too, despite the wetness in his eyes.
"I rather agree with you," Hela said around giggles. "I think we are right to be exactly as we are."
"Yeah," Ned smiled, a warmth in his chest as he returned to his sweet potatoes. He pulled the sentiment around him like a blanket and let go, feeling light. "Exactly as we are."
A/N: And that's a wrap! Thank you so much for reading.
However, I do have a couple of notes, if anyone's interested!
1. Baozi on earth are also made with wheat flour – they're a variant of mantou, which originated in Northern China. Northern China, like the Ironwood, has a climate more suited to growing wheat than rice.
2. I've seen the headcanon that Ned has two moms tossed about a number of times in the fandom, and I'm very fond of it, hence Tala and Analyn. Nanay, which Ned calls Analyn, is the Tagalog word for mom.
3. Hela, like Thor, makes use of Allspeak. I haven't quite hammered out the details of how Allspeak works yet (or if there are details on how it works canonically), but the point is that Hela has been using the language of the Ironwood and letting the Allspeak translate for her. You may notice that Hela refers to Angrboda as both "mother" and "my Most Venerable Mother" in this chapter, which is a small nod to the fact that there are casual and formal versions of the words "mother" and "father" in Mandarin.
Lastly, I've done food night in real life with friends of mine. Regardless of your cultural background, I highly recommend it, when it's safe to do pandemic-wise. It really is fun to cook together and share different foods that were significant to you growing up with your friends.
In any case, Happy AAPI Month, everyone!