I'm back! Sorry for the longest gap ever. I spent the fall cranking out a 12K fic for a Buffy/Angel marathon after years of not having any creative energy for that fandom and then I spent December in England with fiancé's family and most of January very behind on work. Also this arc is so full of complicated logistics that it's making me a little crazy. At one point my living room floor was covered in index cards with character names on them. Whenever I could've been working on it amid the aforementioned madness, it became very easy to play Breath of the Wild for the third time instead. But I made it!
In case you need a refresher, here's where we left off:
1. Thor and Loki are off to Niflheim to put Loki's plan for Hela in motion. She's fresh off her battle to the death with Malekith, which she won.
2. Zola2.0 has learned that Thor and Loki are out of reach, so Hydra's going to use that opening to make a move against its primary targets. Meanwhile, the good guys in SHIELD have been making the most of the intel Thor gave them about Hydra members. They know Hydra is likely to try something, but what will it be?
3. Tony is on his way to Missouri after finding Hydra's bait, a mission report that the Winter Soldier is targeting the Barton family. He's expecting something to go wrong with the suit and he's ready.
4. Coulson and Steve are off to breakfast, and Coulson has a folder to share with Steve.
5. Despite intending to leave SHIELD for good, Ava has been poking around to find out more about Hydra and might have just hit the jackpot.
6. Brunnhilde has arrived in the throne room to speak for the Matriarchs of the Valkyrior. Sif suspects Odin knows what she's up to.
Also this is in the running for my favorite chapter title ever and I immediately abandoned the plan I had for a series of sillier themed puns for the next few chapter titles when I thought of it. It is meant to be read in Hela's voice. Please tell me how hilarious I am.
Niflheim
Hela sat sideways on the high-backed chair she'd hewn into the black stone of Nidavellir's main asteroid, her legs hanging over the left arm. Most of Malekith's corpse lay on the ground at the foot of the chair, while she had rammed his severed head onto one of the spiky outcrops on the chair's back. It made for a refreshing change of decoration. She waited, picking nonexistent dirt from under her nails with a small blade.
She felt so impatient she could scream, but whatever happened next, she was not going to look interested.
She waited.
And waited.
Really, the worst thing about this place was the inability to track the passage of time. Every so often, a star would vanish or a new one would appear. Those were too random to be useful, however. The closest thing she had to a timepiece was her own heart, but she couldn't be bothered to keep count of its beats. If Malekith started rotting and nothing else had happened yet, she would go mad.
At last, the sound of distant footsteps reached her ears. She kept right on grooming her fingernails until she could see movement out of the corner of her eye. She waited a little longer before glancing up. There were two of them, opposites: one golden and bearded, the spitting image of Odin in his youth and Bor's perfect ideal of a warrior of Asgard in his red and silver armor, the other leaner and slightly shorter, clean-shaven and pale, with hair as dark as hers, dressed in a green and black surcoat. Both looked to be quite early in their second millennium.
They walked in step as they approached her parody of a throne. The blond allowed his hostility to show plainly on his face. The other kept his features more neutral, though she was sure little would escape such sharp eyes. If she had to guess, she would say it was the latter who had authored the note she'd found pinned to Malekith.
"To what do I owe the pleasure of company?" she said. "Does Father know you've come?"
"He sent us," said the blond. "By slaying an ancient enemy of Asgard, you have earned a boon."
She snorted. "Why didn't he come himself to grant me his boon?"
"He could have, but we wanted to meet our sister in person," said the pale one.
She swung her legs down and faced them directly. "And am I to learn the names of my brothers?"
"I am Thor," said the blond. "God of Thunder and Crown Prince of Asgard." Hela's jaws clenched against the impulse to correct him on his arrogant claim to that title. She watched the pale one's reaction instead. He looked irritated. Perhaps jealous?
"I am Loki," he said. "God of Mischief and heir presumptive to the throne."
Mischief was quite an unusual domain, but it would be foolish of her to dismiss him over it. Thor moved half a step forward, positioning himself partway in between her and Loki. Whether a protective move or a dismissive one, she couldn't be sure. His eyes were full of anger and hadn't left her for a second, but Loki still looked annoyed. Could it be meant protectively but received with resentment? She could use that. She had defeated Malekith with ease, but unless she regained some of her power, her chances of reclaiming her birthright would be better if she could pit them against each other.
"If Father sent you then Father knows you sent Malekith to me. He intended me to serve my role as executioner once more."
"Once, and only once," said Thor.
"Hmm. I don't believe you," said Hela. "Father has been perfectly content to leave me forgotten here all your lives. Malekith is just a pretext. Why should the almighty Odin change his mind now?"
"It was my idea," said Loki. "He misses you, you know."
Hela threw back her head and laughed. What kind of sentimental fool did he think he was dealing with to spout that kind of drivel? "He misses me? You're funny."
Thor's jaw clenched. "If you require proof we come on Father's authority, you have it here." He raised a golden spear. Hela's fingers curled over the rough arms of her chair. Gungnir. That spear ought to be hers. Father could not have slighted her worse if he had returned and run her through with it. "Your boon is this: a reprieve from Niflheim. How you use it will decide your fate: an end to your banishment…or execution."
She sneered down at them. What impressive brothers she had. Thor, mindless enough to follow Father's orders without question, and Loki, arrogant enough to assume he could maneuver his only two obstacles to the throne into eliminating each other. Did they really think they could control her so easily? She would spare them just long enough for them to fully grasp how stupid they'd been.
X
Washington D.C., Earth
Coulson had driven Steve to a diner not too different from a few he'd been to in the '40s, where they were swiftly supplied heaping, mouthwatering breakfast platters. Steve was waiting for Coulson to reveal the true purpose behind getting them far away from prying Hydra ears. He was halfway through his stack of flapjacks when Coulson pulled an envelope and a pen out of the thick folder. "You don't need to pay me back for breakfast, but hopefully it buys enough goodwill for this…," he said.
Steve flipped open the envelope and found it full, not of intel on Hydra, but of slightly yellowed Captain America trading cards. "Could you sign them?" said Coulson.
Before finally shipping out, Steve had spent most of his time when he wasn't throwing fake punches on a USO stage or marching under hot studio lights besieged by little boys who wanted Captain America's autograph. He wasn't used to getting the same treatment from stoic G-men. "I thought you said we'd get to these if we had time," he said, holding back a chuckle. He fumbled for a moment in search of the pen's cap before realizing it was one of those newfangled click pens. Romanoff had warned him this was coming.
"It's the full set, near-mint. I just tracked the last one down in March."
"You mentioned that. Does this mean we aren't here on business?"
"Not quite," said Coulson. "It's their move, and we're ready for them. They're still in a leadership scramble after the incident the other day, and the director is putting the squeeze on them by promoting Hill."
"Are you sure that's the right play?" said Steve, signing the first card. "It didn't take them long after the 'incident' to take a shot at Tony in front of half of New York. Don't we know enough to go on the offensive?"
"That's the difference between soldiers and spies," said Coulson. "First side to blow cover loses, unless you're in exactly the right position. It might not seem as honest to a guy fresh off World War II, and it's definitely not as direct, but it keeps more civilians out of the line of fire." He slid the rest of the folder across the table. "I put something together for you, in case it didn't occur to the Director to include them in all those files he's been sending you."
Steve flipped the folder open. It was mostly full of photographs, some black and white, some in color. On top were a few of the Hydra plane they'd found him in, before and after it was fully excavated from the ice. Under those was one that showed a younger Coulson shaking hands with a gray-haired woman. It took a moment for Steve to recognize her as Peggy.
"She retired not long after I joined," said Coulson. "It was an honor to meet her."
Steve smiled, but it was a little painful. He still hadn't read her file. He should stop delaying the inevitable. The rest of the photos were of a location very familiar to him. "Camp Lehigh?" he said.
"I thought you might like seeing it. It was the original SHIELD headquarters starting in the '50s, under Director Carter. We stopped using it in the '90s after the Triskelion was built. Some really important work happened there. Howard Stark, Hank Pym—all the big shots. Even some Operation Paperclip recruits were stationed there," he said as Steve reached a photo of Stark and Peggy with gray-streaked hair, standing around a table with Arnim Zola, who didn't look very healthy. "But given the current situation, that probably wasn't a wise move."
"We assumed Zola turned for real when he gave up Schmidt," said Steve. He'd read about Operation Paperclip in those files. "Do you think he's the one who brought Hydra into SHIELD?"
"It's the simplest answer," said Coulson. "He was already in the SSR before it became SHIELD."
Steve looked at the next photograph and frowned. "What's this building?" he said, tapping the image.
"Repurposed ammunition bunker, isn't it?" said Coulson.
Steve shook his head. "It looks like one, but that spot was an obstacle course when I was there, and it couldn't have been added later because it's against Army regulations to store munitions within 500 yards of the barracks." He shuffled through the other photographs. The impossible barracks was in all of them that showed that part of the camp, even the ones from the early '50s.
"Someone wanted it to blend in with the rest of the facility when SHIELD opened up shop there," said Coulson.
"I think we just found a former Hydra base." Steve wondered what they'd done to sneak that one past Peggy, and his heart clenched yet again at the thought that he hadn't been there to help her. Could he have spotted the signs, or would he have missed them along with everyone else?
"My schedule's free," said Coulson. "Want to take a drive to Jersey?"
X
Missouri, Earth
"What's wrong, sweetie?" said Laura. "You love Silver Dollar City!"
Lila heaved a sigh. "I know, Mommy, I just wish we could go back to Asgard."
"Yeah, I wanna play with Leif and Fjolnir some more," said Cooper.
"Well maybe we can visit again sometime," said Clint, pulling Lila up into his arms and trying not to think about how, at seven, she was starting to get too big for that, "but that's up to Thor and Loki. For now we have to settle for a theme park built by mere mortals. Do you think we can still have a fun day?"
"I guess so, Daddy," said Lila forlornly.
Clint caught Laura's eye and looked away quickly, fighting down his laughter. "You know what, I think someone might be tall enough to go on Thunderation!" he said, bouncing Lila a little. "What do you say we go find out?"
"Okay," said Lila.
"But you're scared of Thunderation!" said Cooper.
"Not anymore I'm not," said Lila, becoming a little more animated as she scowled down at her brother. "I could even go on Wildfire!"
"Oh yeah? I bet you only go on Grand Exposition again."
"I will not!" she said, sticking out her tongue.
"Be nice to your sister, Cooper. Maybe she's not scared to go on it because you set such a good example last time," said Laura. "But it would be perfectly fine if Lila decides to stay with me and check in with you two on the walkie-talkies."
"No, I'm gonna go on it!" Lila grimaced. "Well. If I'm big enough."
"That's my brave girl," said Clint.
"Can you have a good time here?" said Laura quietly.
"It's protocol to go on leave after getting debriefed off a major assignment, and it doesn't get much more major than setting foot on two alien planets."
"So why's Nat still on assignment?"
Clint grimaced. "As far as they know, she's not."
X
Triskelion, Earth
Fury took his seat next to Hill and glanced briefly at the holograms of the British, Chinese, and Indian WSC chairs before locking eyes with Gideon Malick, the only member there in person, the corner of whose mouth twitched up an almost imperceptible amount.
"This has been an unsettling week. Secretary Pierce having his heart shredded inside his own office, alien princes going public."
"Still no indications of who killed Pierce?" said Hawley.
"We have not been able to narrow down our suspect pool," said Fury. "We're breaking tradition and conducting this meeting remotely for your safety, and I hope you are all enjoying your doubled security detail."
"As much as one can enjoy the sensation of having a target on one's back," said Chao.
"Deputy Director Hill, you have only been in your current position for a few months," said Singh. "This is quite the opportunity for you."
"I go where I'm needed, sir," said Hill.
"Mr. Malick, you have withdrawn your nomination of Agent Garrett?" said Hawley.
"Correct," said Malick. "Garrett has a couple of decades of field experience on the Deputy Director but she's easily the superior diplomat, and we don't need a shakeup in STRIKE command until Pierce's death is resolved. If Director Fury can spare Hill, then she's a fine choice."
"Very well, then the Council is unanimous," said Singh. "I look forward to working with you, Secretary Hill."
X
Gladsheim, Asgard
Despite her nervousness, Brunnhilde spoke in the clear, commanding voice she had once used on the battlefield. "Odin Borson, you have allowed family loyalty to come before your duty to your kingdom and all the realms you defend," she said. "You know that Hela Odinsdottir is guilty of many crimes worthy of execution: her slaughter of the palace guards and servants, her attempted murder of Queen Frigga, her attempt to usurp the throne."
"Hela Odinsdottir?" someone protested loudly. "What insolent fiction is this?"
"Silence!" said Odin. "She speaks the truth."
Brunnhilde continued. "The Valkyrior did not die to the last woman in a battle against Jotun insurgents. They died to keep Hela from seizing power. The Matriarchs have tolerated your decision to banish her, disinherit her, erase her from Asgard's memory, and allow her remaining supporters to go on with their lives in ignorance, unpunished. We will not tolerate your decision to offer her a chance at freedom."
Despite Odin's call for silence, confused and outraged murmurs were sweeping the hall again and growing in volume. Most were still directed at her, not the man who had tampered with their memories and history. The king's expression, meanwhile, remained placid, like her words were no more controversial than a petition from a farmer. It was unsettling, but she kept her own face blank to match his.
"What, then, are your demands?" he said.
Here it was. No going back. "We have only one. You will either execute Hela as you should have done long ago…or step down as king."
Their audience fell utterly silent. She could feel their angry glares upon her but didn't break eye contact with Odin.
"If you refuse, the truth will be revealed to all of Asgard, not merely those in this room. We know we don't have the power to depose you, but we will not hesitate to expose your actions to your subjects."
"Very well," he said, getting to his feet. "I find your terms acceptable and will step down in favor of Thor."
Whatever sound of disbelief escaped her was drowned as the rest of the throne room erupted into chaos.
A lot of commenters were worried (or angry) that Brun was about to attempt regicide. Not quite. :D
Hela PoV of Thor and Loki is delightful to write. She really thinks she's much cleverer than they are, based on very little.
Originally I was gonna have the Missouri stuff happen at the Barton farm but then I learned that Silver Dollar City exists (I might actually get to go there in April) and it works so much better for what's coming next. No matter what wild political machinations are happening everywhere else, it was seriously the Barton farm and Steve and Coulson's breakfast that were giving me the worst writer's block. (This is why I originally wanted to just not bother with the Hydra arc and only have people fill Thor and Loki in a little bit afterward. Spy wars are freaking tricky.) I had the Niflheim and Asgard scenes drafted months ago.
The issue that got me stuck with Steve and Coulson is that stupid bunker. It's such a cool moment in "Winter Soldier" when Steve notices that the bunker shouldn't be there, but if Camp Lehigh was SHIELD headquarters for decades, and Peggy worked there for decades, how does that work? So eventually I decided I'm gonna chalk it up to that hypnotist dude in the Agent Carter series making her think the bunker is totally not sus at all.
Okay, I'm gonna go reply to all the comments on the previous chapter. (And dangit, I still need to make that glossary of made up terms and non-canon characters.) Happy 2023, everyone!
