Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel, but if I do then I'll be very old, wrinkly, and filthy rich! And I wouldn't be writing fanfics. Hahah.
CHAPTER 1
Unexpected Guest
Morning came at the Avengers Tower and Clint was the first to arrive the lounge area, having been woken up by the wafting scent of pancakes, bacons, and eggs through the air vents.
"Holy, wow," he breathed, taking in the sight of the well prepared breakfast on the table, and made a beeline towards the kitchen counter, where stacks of pancakes and waffles were yet to be served – his mouth already watering.
Wondering who took the time to prepare such a meal, he looked around the kitchen and found no one. Furrowing his brows turned to face the couches and that's when he saw one figure slumped in one of the chairs.
Bruce Banner slept haphazardly in one of the sofas, his StarkPad barely falling off the floor in his hands including some print outs of his research with his glasses askew on his face and was lightly snoring. Not wanting to startle good ole' Jolly Green awake, he carefully nudged the doctor on the arm.
"Bruce. Bruce! Hey, Bruce," Clint called, the snoring sounds dissipating as a very much groggy scientist slowly got up on the couch. Cutting to the chase, the archer pointed his thumb towards the kitchen and asked, "Did you make those?"
"Make w-what? Huh?" Bruce scrunched his eyes and rubbed on them, taking a moment to wipe his glasses on the shirt tails of his button up shirt.
"Breakfast," Clint supplied as he bounded off towards the kitchen again, this time, taking a waffle of the stack and munching on it.
"No, I didn't. I was sleeping," Bruce replied, slowly making his way to the kitchen as well, eyeing the huge breakfast prepared on the table and counter.
"Oh, hello there! Good morning," came the soft, accented voice of a woman from outside the doors of the elevator. Startled by the unfamiliar voice, Bruce and Clint turned to its origin and saw a woman with long, dark hair and unusually green eyes carrying two large brown paper bags.
"What the- W-Who?" Bruce intoned, but before he could continue, Clint had jumped off on top of the fridge screaming 'Loki', before an arrow flew past his head in swift succession. In the split second that he saw it zoom past him, he quickly turned towards the female it was aimed at who simply nodded her head to one side, avoiding the zipping arrow from hitting her right in the skull.
Bruce blinked, mouth agape at the quick reflexes of this unknown person – but before he could comment, a grunt coming from the elevator woke him from his shock and saw a very wide-eyed Tony Stark, now frowning at Clint and the arrow, "That was close Legolas! And who's the chick?"
All eyes now on Tony, the woman immediately set down the bags and rushed over to the genius-billionaire and ushering him a safe distance away from the now implanted arrowhead on the wall and was checking him for any head injuries. Tony was still looking at his teammates but between the zipping arrow, the very green eyes and Bruce's shrug of a response, Tony just tuned in to the apologetic voice of their unexpected guest.
"I'm so sorry! Had I known you would be there, I would have caught the arrow. Are you unhurt?"
"Great morning my friends!" Thor boomed as he exited the elevator in greeting, ignoring the stuck arrow to the right.
"Thor!" Clint and Bruce yelled in unison, making the Thunderer stop in his strides and turn his head to the object they were pointing at behind his back.
"Hela?" Thor gasped at the sight of the eponymous Queen of Hel. "What in the Nine Realms are you doing here?! Surely I have not died and went to Hel!"
"Good morning to you as well, dear uncle. And no, I assure you, you are still very much alive and well," The woman with dark hair and unusually green eyes spoke with sarcasm her voice soft and kind the verbal eye roll was almost missed, "I came here to seek assistance in locating my father. He has gone missing and the Allfather refuses to speak to me."
Turning his head down, Thor looked down at his feet with an expression of that of anguish, "My brother is dead, my niece. He has ascended into the Halls of Valhalla, as he died a true warrior's death. You of all beings should know that."
The three men all exchanged looks of varying expressions; who was this Hela, and what is it with looking for her father and her being Thor's niece? Piecing the information they gathered from the little exchange in the conversation – they managed to put two and two together.
Tony, who was half sitting on one of the arm rests, had scuttled away from the woman, pointing a finger at her, "You're Loki's daughter!"
"Yes, I am his daughter," Hela confirmed, and as if an afterthought, she added, "And no, 'I'm not gonna throw you off a window'."
Tony blinked.
"Wait, Loki has a kid?" Clint asked from above the fridge.
"Aye, he has not one, but three children," Thor conceded, nodding his head towards Hela who straightened herself up after Tony moved away from her.
The three male Avengers, minus Thor regarded Hela with scrutinizing looks. The dark hair and green eyes was a sure fire give away, but her appearance made her look as if she's very much akin to Earth, with her speech patterns hardly medieval like Thor's – if anything she sounded more like a proper foreigner. Dressed casually in skinny jeans, a plain white v-neck shirt, three thin strings of multi-length black necklace, with emerald green high-heels, she didn't look quite out of place, as opposed to how Thor had first appeared before him, in leather pants and a great, big, billowing red cape.
After minutes of the stunned and somewhat awkward silence, the elevator dinged and out came a flame-haired woman who regarded everyone with a raised brow.
"What?"
And then she saw the oddly familiar, yet very different gendered person standing a few paces away from Thor. Natasha Romanoff then crossed her arms for an explanation.
"Hello," Hela greeted, "I'm Hela Lokisdóttir, a pleasure to meet you."
Resting her hands on her hip, the assassin looked at the goddess from head to foot, a look of calm and thoughtfulness in her face, "I'm guessing the myths are overly exaggerated."
"Some of them, yes," Hela answered matter-of-factly knowing it was her form she thought of.
"Why are you chatting her up like she's an old buddy?" Clint asked as he landed on both feet from the fridge, "She's Loki's daughter!"
Natasha only responded with a roll of her eye and a grunt, making her way to the food laden breakfast counter, "If she wanted to kill us, we would've been dead."
"What?" The men resounded in unison.
"Indeed, Lady Natasha is correct. If my niece thought to bring us harm, she would've done so without preamble."
The assassin smirked and gave her teammates an 'I-Told-You-So' look. It was then when the First Avenger strolled in from the elevator, ironically he was the last to come in. Seeing the stunned expressions and hostile looks from Clint towards a woman he hasn't seen in his life, Steve Rogers could only utter but one word.
"What?"
Author's Note: This was supposed to be part of the prologue, but the vibe just didn't feel right together so I split it in two.
Well, same drill! Fave and review~ cookies from Nifleheim are waiting!
