Ooooooookay... This would've been up a week ago, if I had not ultimately screwed myself over by sticking the 90% completed chapter into HTML format on AO3 and tried to finish writing it in the format box.
Long story short: ALL the formatting was taken out. Paragraph spacing, even breaking. Italics... :/ It was NOT fun. Especially after I messed it up worse. But! After struggling valiantly for two days, I took a break this week because I got a terrible migraine, then rebooted it all again tonight and resolved to straighten it out. Which took forever, but hey, I'm able to post! (Even if it is at 3 AM, my time.)
I just really didn't want to have you guys to read half the chapter in scrunched up text in one ginormous paragraph. It was hard for me to look at, so...
Anyway. Here's a SUPER long chapter. It's only this long because I absolutely could not stop at an earlier point than where I did. (This train needs to get rolling, and it's starting to.) Yes, I would've liked to have gone further, but ah oh well. I'm just glad I actually posted a chapter.
If this is being read on , then all the italics have been taken out. I put back what I remembered... Which isn't much because it's late.
Chapter 5: "When one has not had a good father, one must create one." ~ Friedrich Nietzsche
When Loki tells her goodnight, it's like he's saying goodbye.
She hates that, even if he assures that he will find a way out. …Which she distinctly remembers telling him not to do.
Hela wakes up to a dark, cold, and unfamiliar room. She panics for a moment before she remembers that she's in SHIELD confinement. That thought isn't too comforting either.
A quick glance at the digital clock on the wall shows that its just after seven, but that's good. She wants to do something before they steal away her father again.
It takes 20 minutes of badgering and arguing with a guard outside her door before the guard finally, finally radios to someone else to see where Tony Stark is. It's another fifteen minutes before they actually get the location and go ahead to come.
Turns out Mr. Stark is in one of the labs on the lower floors of Stark Tower. More guards are assigned to her to escort her up there, and it has to be the most awkward elevator ride of Hela's life. She breathes again when the doors open and practically dives out of the confining space.
The inventor is bent over what looks like the chest piece on his Ironman suit at one of the many work tables around the room. The rest of the suit isn't far away.
Hel's mouth opens and closes, trying to bring back the convincing argument speech she had planned out earlier. It doesn't rise up as easily as it had when she was alone.
Then Tony Stark turns and looks at her over his shoulder. He has a grease smear on his forehead. "Hey, kid. Little early for you to be up, isn't it?" Without waiting for a reply he says to the guards behind her, "It's alright, guys. I think I can take it from here."
They hesitate and Mr. Stark rolls his eyes. "I'm surrounded by my own technology – very lethal technology I might add – and you think I can't handle a teenager. Gee, that makes me feel so good about SHIELD's faith in me."
The guards leave after that.
As the elevator is closing on them, the genius snorts and turns back to the Ironman chest piece. "So, kid. You had something to say?"
Hel opens her mouth to say something (she's not really sure what) but he interrupts before she even starts. "No, wait. Let me guess: you're gonna confess to conspiring with your dad for world domination?"
She closes her mouth with a frown, unsure how to reply.
Mr. Stark turns and looks at her briefly before turning back around. "Yeah I didn't think so."
The teen blinks before taking a deep breath and saying, "I want to know what you're going to do with Loki."
He doesn't reply for a minute and she wonders if maybe this was the wrong idea. Then, "What, no pretty please?"
She scowls a little at his turned head. "Don't you think I'm entitled to know what you're doing with my own father?"
At that he swings around on his stool, putting down what looked like a modified screw driver on the table. "When you're father is Loki and you busted the windows out in the lobby of my tower? Not really, no."
Hel feels her small hope plummet to feet. A small fire lights in her and anger begins to spread through her as the whispering noise at the corner of her mind gets louder.
"But," he says, "you did seem to stop Loki from killing me. I'm not sure if that little stunt was just to make you look good until you could stab us all in the back, maybe quite literally, or if you really were trying to help, but either way I'm grateful."
She lets out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding in and the whispers die down. "Okay. You're welcome, I think."
He shrugs like it was nothing. "Now, as for what's going to happen to Loki, Thor's going to take him back to Asgard for a sentencing later today. After that he's going to be locked up for a very, very long time."
Just like Loki told me they would, Hel thinks. She bites her lip. "Well, is there any way… Would it be possible, I mean, for me to… Um… Maybe go with them?"
The inventor just stares at her for a few moments. Then he laughs.
Hela really wishes people would stop laughing at her.
It takes him awhile to get control of his laughter and say, "You're not serious, are you?"
She openly scowls at him. "No, I just got up at seven in the morning to come give you a good laugh and listen to you tell me how untrustworthy my father is and therefore his children, too. But of course, continue laughing. I'm only trying to find some freaking answers that could change my life forever."
He sobers at that. "Okay, I get it. I see how…serious you are about this."
I highly doubt that, she thinks to herself.
"But if you think there's any way that you'd be allowed to travel with them to Asgard, you're crazy. It's hard enough to get Thor and Loki sent there by themselves."
Hel sighs and sits on one of the few uncluttered work benches. "Care to explain?"
"There's the protocols and regulations that that have to be cleared before they can beam up there. We have to section off the area from civilians. And definitely no civvies allowed to take a stroll on Asgard when we do take a visit. Also…"
The teen rolled her eyes, waiting for it.
"…You're Loki's daughter."
She raised an eyebrow. "Doesn't that make me not civilian?"
Tony Stark shrugged. "SHIELD is weird on stuff like this. Actually, there's never been something like this, so they're making up rules as they go. Point is, there's no way you're getting up to Asgard, kid. Sorry, but that's the truth."
Hela wants to get angry at him because she's frustrated, but she knows he's only telling the truth. She sighs again, shoulders slumping.
"But."
Her eyes flick to the inventor again.
"…If you want to be there when they do leave, I'm sure it can be arranged."
"How?"
"SHIELD is taking you and your boyfriend-"
"He's not my boyfriend!"
"-back to your homes tomorrow, because according to what your foster parents said and his parents said, you were camping."
"So…," Hel starts, leaning back and attempting to look innocent, "you found out about that?"
He gives her a look. "Kid, it's SHIELD. They know everything. Or, at least they think they do."
She smiles sheepishly.
"Anyway, as I was saying, your parents aren't going to let us hold you here without charge or reasonable cause. So later today you're both being driven back. And you're not getting off scotch free, either. There are going to be SHIELD agents watching your every move. But you won't be able to see them. You sneeze the wrong way, they swoop in with a fancy pair of cuffs designed for certain Asgardians."
Hel could already feel a case of scopophobia developing.
"But before all that," the genius went on, "it could possibly be arranged so that you could stop by and see him off when you head back to your home."
"Really?"
"Don't get your hopes up. I probably won't be able to tell you if Fury gives the go-ahead on this little plan, so the only way you'll know is when and if it happens."
Hel thought about it, taking time to weigh her options. Something occurred to her and she smiled slowly. "Thank you, Mr. Stark."
He snorted. "Don't thank me yet. Oh, and don't call me 'Mr. Stark'. Mr. Stark was my father. Just call me Tony."
"Okay… Tony." It felt weird calling an adult by their first name, even though she did the same to all her foster parents.
Tony turned back to his work, picking the odd-looking screwdriver up again. "Okay, kid, now scram. I want to fix this chest piece that your uncle broke before we beam Loki back to the mothership."
She stood up with a small smile and walked back to the elevator. Just as she began to press the button, the inventor spoke up again.
"Just curious: why are you doing all this?"
Hela stops, half-turning back to him. He was still bent over his work. "What?"
"I'm just saying… You seem pretty determined to fight for a guy who you met once, over a year ago. A guy who nearly took over the world and destroyed Manhattan, I might add."
She doesn't know how to reply, because she doesn't know that much either. She wanted answers, yeah, but it was more than that. Finally she says, "He's not just any 'guy', though. He's my dad. Wouldn't you do the same?"
When Tony doesn't answer after a few moments, Hel goes ahead and presses the down button on the elevator.
When the SHIELD agent driving the sedan carrying her and Bobby back to their boring lives takes a detour and stops at Central Park, Hel knows that Tony Stark came through for her.
She didn't get the chance to tell Bobby what she had asked of the billionaire because she was afraid the SHIELD agents that escorted them everywhere would hear and it'd be, 'Well there goes that plan'. So her best friend was pretty confused when they stopped and Tony personally came and opened her door for her.
After seeing his face as she shut the door, Hela regretted not telling Bobby. If this worked out, then… Well. She wouldn't get to see him for a while.
The other Avengers minus Thor were already there, cautious and alert. Judging by their expressions, they weren't surprised to see her or very happy about it either.
Before she could begin to feel uncomfortable with the amount of tension in the air, a van pulled up with the SHIELD logo on it. Hel held her breath for a moment as SHIELD agents armed to the teeth filed out, followed by Loki with Thor at his shoulder. Her father had the same high-tech handcuffs on, but now he was also wearing a muzzle. A muzzle.
"Really," she said to no one in particular. "A muzzle?"
Everyone ignored her.
Loki's green eyes met her own. He only seemed half-surprised, quirking an eyebrow at her. She smiled back weakly.
There was quiet talk among the SHIELD agents as they moved into position and one of them pulled out an odd glass cylinder looking thing with gold handles at the end from the van. But what they pulled out next is what really got her attention.
They pulled out a metal briefcase, flipping the lid open.
Inside was a glowing blue cube and something...weird happens to her when she sees it.
The unexplainable pull she feels when she sees it nearly makes her take a step forward. Her hand twitches as if to reach out to it. The golden bracelet on her wrist feels so cold.
Hel wants- No, needs to touch it. Go to it.
The trance she's in breaks when she feels a heavy gaze on her. Blue eyes tear away to meet emerald ones. Loki's face is blank, or as blank as he can be with a muzzle over his mouth.
She swallows heavily and focuses on the events unfolding.
In her distraction, the agents have put the glowing cube in the cylinder thing and handed it to Thor. Her…uncle (that's going to take a while to get used to) is standing in the middle of a circle pattern on the bricks with Loki next to him. Sparing one last glance at his teammates and herself, the Thunder god turns and holds one of the golden handles out to Loki while holding the other.
Loki gives her a last look, then reaches up to grasp the handle.
In the second it takes her father to grab it, Hel thinks, Now or never, and lurches forward with a speed she didn't know she had, sprinting full on across the mere eight or nine feet between her and the gods.
Time slows down in that four seconds.
There's shouting, the sound of what is probably a gun (holy crap they're shooting, shooting at her), and a whistling sound as a bullet grazes her ear and another one brushes the sleeve of her shirt so close she can feel the bullet. There's panic building inside her, but that's not what she's focused on.
Thor has twisted his handle, eyes landing on her too late. His mouth opens as he probably tells her to stop, but there's already blue energy crackling around them and Hel's only a foot away.
Her hand brushes the thunderer's arm that's holding the cylinder handle and she grabs on with strength she didn't know she had.
It occurs to her then that this could be a bad idea, and that holy shit she could die.
Just as they're jerked upwards in a flash of blue light.
It's possibly the worst thing she's ever experienced. In other words, the worst roller coaster ride ever.
She wants to shut her eyes, but she can't. The force at which they're traveling is tearing at her skin, particles brushing over her cheeks like sand. Her neck feels like its breaking. Instead of her lungs being in her throat, Hel's pretty sure all internal organs got left back at Central Park.
Her hand starts to slip off Thor's wrist and she feels a moment of blind terror.
Then a strong, rough hand closes over her own, anchoring her.
If Hela had any breath left in her lungs, she would have breathed a sigh of relief. As it was, she was suffocating.
Everything was blue, so blue.
Just when the teen thought her skin was being pulled from her flesh, there's an abrupt change in motion. Instead of being pulled up now, they're being dropped.
And then everything grinds into a halt.
They slam down on a golden floor, Hel landing face first. Her hand is finally torn from Thor's and it falls beside her, the muscles aching from strain. Thankfully, she doesn't bash her head against the ground, but it knocks any breath she had gained as they entered the atmosphere out of her again.
She lays on her stomach, dazed and being blinded by rainbow lights far of in the distance.
Then someone is jerking her upright – Oww, did they not see she was in shock and would like to just lay there for a minute? – and grasping her shoulders, freaking shaking her.
What the hell, she thinks, stop freaking rattling what's left of my brain-
The worried and angry light blue eyes of Thor fill her vision. He's talking, but Hel's not really hearing it.
She would like to just go limp and let Thor hold her up on her feet for a while, but a nauseous feeling rises up in her throat and stomach. Hel pushes him away just in time to throw up whatever she'd eaten that day, which thankfully hadn't been much due to nerves.
When there's nothing left in her stomach, she rolls over and falls back on her elbows. Her uncle puts a hand on her forehead and brushes hair out of her face, but he's pushed away by Loki.
Oh look, the teen thinks. Loki managed to take off his muzzle. Why is she not surprised.
Her father looks angry, too.
The trickster grabs her shoulder, thankfully not shaking her. "-stupid girl, why would you do that, you could have been killed-"
Well, he either cared or she just made the ride really bumpy by jumping along and he was pissed about that. Hel manages to rasp, "My bad," before promptly passing out.
She's dreaming again.
Then again, this felt different that the dream she'd had. Everything is sharper. Slow, but sharp.
There's a large, heavy hand on the back of her neck and something cold and sharp pressing at her throat. Behind her there's someone, a very solid, strong someone holding her close.
Standing not far away in front of her is Loki. He looks lost, but there's something else, something that leaves her feeling cold.
He's scared.
The person behind her is talking, but she can't make them out.
Still staring at her, Loki pauses for a long, drawn out moment. She meets his eyes.
After another few long moments, her father shakes his head slowly and says something.
Hel can't hear Loki, but even she could lip read the one word he says.
No.
There's a breathless moment where everything stands still. Then the hand on the back of her neck puts her in a choke hold as something wicked and sharp is raised above her head and plunged down, down into-
Hela chokes in her nightmare, chokes as she feels the grinding of a foreign object making its way between the bones of her ribcage, a sickeningly warm burst of pain making her speechless.
Then her attacker twists and, oh, God, it hurts so much-
Then the foreign object is gone, as is the person holding her up, and Hel falls to her knees and hands as a burning warmth begins to cover her front. Finding it hard to draw breath, she presses a hand to the warmth, trying to make it stop spreading, stop burning. But she has to bring her hand away, because she's falling on her side now and-
The last thing she sees is her palm and fingers covered in bright red blood.
With a strangled gasp, the teen sits up straight in bed.
She's having a hard time breathing and sweating, legs tangled in silk bronze sheets. Immediately she kicks them off and draws her legs up to her to wrap her arms around them as she tries to hold herself together, tries to get the feeling of her blood spilling out of her to stop.
Hel's trembling. That was no dream. That was a nightmare. Of her own death.
The girl draws in another shaky breath. Her thoughts are scrambled, flashes of the nightmare replaying in her head. She squeezes her eyes shut.
Then there's a knock.
Hela flinches, head snapping around to the door.
That's when she realizes where she is.
The room is bathed in golden hues by the dusk outside. There's three huge open windows that have no glass at all, nearly taking up a complete wall. She could stand in them if she wanted and not be able to reach the arched tops of either of them. On the opposite wall there is a literal gold desk that looks like its from the future with a massive matching wardrobe next to it. Beside the bed is a small gold nightstand with a basin on it. Opposite of the bed is a double set of (surprise, surprise) golden doors with intricate designs.
Oh, and another thing.
Her clothes are missing.
Hel squeaks as she notices the lack of shorts or shirt, leaving her in her underwear. A mantra of 'WTF' is repeating in her head.
Another knock at the door.
Her head snaps up again to stare at the door with a deer-in-headlights look.
"Hela? Are you well?"
Oh God. It's Thor.
Hel hisses, "Shit!" before scooting down in the bronze sheets up to her chin and yelling, "Um, I'm fine!"
Her voice only cracks a little.
The thunderer's deep voice carries, even through the door. "May I come in?"
She panics. What to say, what to say-
"Um, I'm not really sure-"
"Is something wrong?"
Hela stares at the door, feeling a blush rising in her cheeks. "Thor… My clothes are missing."
There's a long pause, then booming laughter.
Why, she asks herself, does everyone seem to be laughing at me.
Thor speaks again, amusement clear in his voice. "Little niece, there are clothes the wardrobe. The maidservants took yours to be washed."
"…Okay," the teen says meekly, feeling very exposed as she slips out of the bed to pad to the wardrobe quickly. "Give me a second."
"Do you need a maidservant to help you dress?"
Her hand halts on the wardrobe handle. "What? No! No no no, I'm good!"
She can hear the smirk in Thor's voice. "Very well."
Biting her lip, she pulls open the wardrobe doors.
And stops dead.
It's full of full-length dresses and cloaks. Or... What look like dresses... It's hard to tell because while there's an underlying dress design, the tops of the so-called dresses seem to be tunics or wraps of a sort made of curtains.
"You've got to be kidding."
Most of them are ranging in hues of blue, but there's a few green, gray, and black ones, too. There must be twenty-something in it.
She randomly pulls out a navy blue one, inspecting it. It has long flowing sleeves and a scooping neckline, with a brown leather string lacing up the front. A delicate silver design was sewn along the ends of the sleeves and the bodice and neckline. The curtain/tunic/wrap that was supposed to go with it matches the navy blue material and is thankfully a separate piece.
Her eyebrows shot up. Was there something you were supposed to wear under it? And how did you even get it on?
She turned back to the wardrobe, throwing the dress and wrap on the bed. There were drawers in the bottom. Hel opened one and found what she at first thought was very small, white dresses made of both silk and cotton. Pulling one out, she realized that they were under slips.
She quickly slipped one on, grateful for the cover. It reached her knees and had small spaghetti straps. With another look back at the navy blue dress, the teen girl called out to her uncle. "I might need help getting these dresses on after all."
At first she didn't think Thor heard, but after a few moments two women rushed in the room, heads bowed.
One immediately began untying the leather string that closed the front, while the other came up behind Hel. "My lady," the woman asked in a quiet voice, "how would you like your hair done?"
"Um, braided, I guess?"
The woman went to the nightstand and pulled out a brush while the other one brought the dress to Hel. She gathered the dress up and held it over Hela's head. "Please put your arms up, my lady."
The teen noticed with a frown that the woman's hands were shaking, but did as she said anyways. The maidservant slipped it over her head and she wiggled her arms in the sleeves. It went on easier than Hel thought it would. The gown fell over the under slip and as the maidservant began lacing the leather string up tightly again the other woman began combing Hel's hair.
The woman tying up the leather strings of her dress finished before the woman doing her hair, and instead of stepping back like Hel thought she would, the woman went to a different drawer than the one she had opened earlier. The drawer had a box in it, and in the box were two ornate chest pieces covered in light gold and bronze designs. The woman pulled one out and the second piece that lay under it.
Bringing them to Hel, she stood by her side and placed one up against her back and the other directly over Hel's chest. Hel watched with no small amount of fascination as the two plates instantly connected with each other like magnets and melded to her chest for an exact fit, stopping just at her hips.
In a matter of minutes, she had the dress on and her hair was braided. The two women stepped back and checked their work. Almost as an afterthought, The teen almost did (feeling so strange about it the whole time), but then she remembered something. "What about shoes?"
One of the women went to the wardrobe again and opened another drawer. In it were shoes ranging from flat slippers to high-heeled boots. "What would you prefer, Miss Hela?"
That sounded…so weird.
"Uh… Something comfortable?"
The maidservant pulls out a pair of black slippers and Hel has to sit so she can put them on. The slippers are a lot like leather moccasins and are lined with a soft fur. She sighs at the comfort. "Thanks."
No response. Not even eye contact.
"Um… You can go, I guess?"
Both the women flee the room like their lives depend on it.
The entire confrontation sets a permanent frown on the teen's face as Thor walks in after the maidservants leave. Thor's expression is an odd mixture of happiness and amusement combined with tones of sternness. She doesn't read too much into it as the god pulls the chair from the desk, flipping it around to sit in it backwards, until he opens his mouth.
"Hela, do you know the severity of your actions?"
Well, she thought, sort of, if you're talking about taking an unannounced hop across the universe to visit an alien planet. But instead of saying that the teen asked, "By getting dressed?"
The sternness in his expression disappeared for a moment, a small smile spreading across his face. "And dress you did. Considering the day's later events, you dressed appropriately."
"Later events?"
Thor went on. "Alas, that is something to be discussed later. What I am talking about would be you coming with us to Asgard."
"Oh," Hela said meekly, even though she already knew he had been talking about that to begin with.
Any amusement on his face was gone now. "Had you let go at any time during the Bifrost trip, you would have been left in the gaps of Yggdrasil. Neither myself nor your father could have saved you there."
Something cold settled in her stomach. "By 'gaps in Yggdrasil' do you mean space? Outer space?"
He nodded solemnly. The teen sucked in a shaky breath. This probably hadn't been one of her best ideas, then. "Well, guess it's a good thing I didn't let go, huh?"
"Indeed. While I am glad you are now able to visit Asgard and see your true heritage, I wish you had not taken such a risk." He paused for a moment. "Had you planned on this? On traveling with us to Asgard?"
Hel thought about it for a moment before answering. "Will I get in trouble if I told you I had planned on this and the reason I asked Mr. Star- Tony was so I could get a chance at coming with you?"
Thor chuckled a little. "No, you shall not bear punishment from me. While the circumstances could have been better, I am indeed happy you are here. Though your father and SHIELD may not be so lax on punishment or lecturing."
She aimed a weak smile at him. "Thanks, Thor. I think I can handle them."
He smiled back, seemingly banishing all heavy thoughts of death in outer space. "Now, Hela, how would you like to meet your family?"
Everything slid to a halt and the smile slid off her face.
"Family?" she echoed.
"Yes. Father and Mother are most pleased that you are here." His smile flickered for a moment but he didn't go on.
"I feel there's a 'but' attached on to the end of that sentence, Thor."
"I do not know what you speak of, niece."
"I think you do, uncle."
The thunderer hesitated. After a few long moments, he said, "As I was not present at the time that you were…banished, I think this might be something better explained by your father."
Hela sighed, irritated. "Well, when am I going to see him?"
"Soon. After you have met your grandparents."
She rubbed her eyes tiredly. "Loki's in Asgard's prison, isn't he." It wasn't a question.
"Yes," the god answered grudgingly, "due to his crimes. There are not…many people on Asgard who would agree with my brother being out of restraints."
Great, Hel thought. More people who are gonna hate me on sight. She stood up, smoothing out the dress. It felt weird, but somehow right. "Let's get going, then."
Despite the confident tone, she was nervous. More than nervous. According to Loki, Odin was the one who banished her and her apparent brothers to Earth. When they were still practically infants. Hel had a hard time imagining someone who would go behind their own sons' back and take his kids as a grandfatherly figure. Actually, it was hard to imagine him as any kind of father figure at all. The pictures of Odin on Wikipedia weren't exactly parent-ly looking.
As they walked out of the room and past the maidservants standing sentry at the door, she glanced at Thor. Thinking about it, so far none of the Norse figures she'd met had looked like the pictures she'd seen.
Hel had to hurry to keep up with the Thunder god's long stride. She barely had time to take in her surroundings. Everything was very…metallic, almost. The hues of gold and bronze among other metals made the atmosphere seem like there's a soft, comforting air.
The farther they get from her room, the more people start appearing. They were all dressed like they were either ready for battle or from the Enlightenment or Renaissance period. Well, not exactly like the Enlightenment or Renaissance period, but its what they make the teen think of.
Any talk ceases as she and Thor get close. The people watch with wide, cautious eyes but bow as they pass, only to resume talking in hushed tones after they pass. More than once, someone makes an odd hand gesture at Hela when they see her. After the fourth time her uncle slows a bit to put his arm around her shoulders, almost like a statement. Hel's too focused on how similar the gesture seemed like the warding-evil sign (called the Horns or Corna gesture; she'd researched it) that she'd had directed at her so many times on Earth.
A few tense minutes later they come upon a set of golden doors guarded by two of the oddest dressed men she had ever seen, who opened the doors after a second glance at Hel.
She's not quite sure what to expect because all the foster parents she ever had on Earth had never really tried to make sure she knew their parents, the only real grandparent figures she would've had. Even so, when the doors open up and she's suddenly enveloped in the strong embrace of a woman who smells likes cinnamon and something she can't identify, Hel is pretty sure that the normal thing to do would not be just stand there stiffer than a tree, while simultaneously trying to suddenly become a tree.
But that's exactly what she does. (Not the 'becoming a tree' part, but you know.)
"Oh, Hela, you're all grown-"
For Hel, this brings up the question of whether or not her mystery attacker can see the centuries of age on her and not just the fifteen years that the current Hel has lived through, if what Loki explained to her earlier had any truth to it. …Which really wasn't relevant, but when she has no idea what to do she falls back on mindless head-ramble.
"Hela," she hears Thor say, "this is my mother and your grandmother, Frigga."
Hel tries to unfreeze her limbs and thoughts. It works, somewhat. Barely above a whisper, she says, "Nice to meet you."
Finally Frigga – her grandmother – pulls back and looks her in the face. Frigga is a gentle-faced woman with strong, kind, blue eyes just like Thor. As far as what Hela had in mind for a grandmother, she does not have the telltale wrinkles of age or grayed hair, but instead just the opposite, her long mouse brown hair in a loose braid and her face smooth except for laughter lines. She smiled genuinely, but her expression is pinched, almost in worry.
The entire onslaught of kindness throws Hel for a loop and makes her head spin. She wishes (maybe a little rudely) that her newfound grandmother would give her some space.
"Frigga, give the girl some space."
The woman backed up, and Hela's gratefulness lasted for a full two seconds before she realized just who spoke.
The most imposing-looking man she had ever set eyes upon stared at her with a solemn one-eyed stare. Director of Shield and his pirate patch had nothing on this guy's gold-freaking-plate eye patch. Seriously, was everything on Asgard made of a precious metal?
The man took a few steps closer to her, scrutinizing in a non-judgmental way as his golden staff hit the floor with each step just like a judge's gavel. Something crawled up Hel's throat as she suddenly realized exactly who this was, what this meant. Thor came to stand beside her again, and she could hear the smile in the thunderer's voice as he said, "Hela, the Allfather and – more importantly – your grandfather, Odin."
The thing in her throat squeezed tight. Her head felt too light, and she really, really needed to get away, because this wasn't right, this man was what put her through every life she'd every lived through, he had made her forget everything, made her powerless, made her suffer over and over and over again in every life-
Suddenly the world tilted sideways, but strong arms held Hel before she could collapse like she wanted to. Unbidden, one of questions on her long list of Questions To Be Answered rose up and she blurted, "Why?"
Odin, his aged face an odd combination of stoic and sorrowful, just looked down at her in silence.
She stared back, desperate to know. Why, why, why.
The deep, rumbling voice of Thor suddenly broke into her thoughts like far off thunder. "Niece, perhaps now is not the time for questions that shall take much too long for explanation. You need to eat."
Food. Hel jumped onto that train of thought without looking back. Food sounded really good. "Yeah. Okay."
Her uncle helped her up and all the while she avoided Odin's eyes. It was both simultaneously embarrassing and frustrating to look at him.
Scary, too, but she was hard pressed to admit that.
When Hel and Thor get to the dining hall (which is grand, beautiful, open to the elements, and…gold), dinner is already in full swing. Maybe it's lunch. She can't really tell with the weird sky.
There's a long polished wooden table that is at least 50 yards long full of food, with Asgardians lining each side of it. And they're all happily munching down on delicious smelling food. Some of them are elegantly dressed, others are dressed in warrior attire like Thor. She gets light-headed looking at all the food. How long had it been since she ate?
When they walk in, Thor enters first and she trails behind him. At the Thunder God's appearance there are many rambunctious cheers and hoots.
Then Hela steps out from behind Thor.
Everything goes dead silent.
It takes a full five seconds before someone screams something, and several people stand up with weapons out and ready to inflict bodily harm. Food – perfectly good food – is thrown at her, and Thor has her stuffed outside the dining hall doors and them shut behind her just as the food smacks against the door. The crowd inside turns into a full riot of protesting and banging.
She backs away from the doors as the noise inside increases in volume, meaning that the haters could only be getting closer to the doors, closer to mauling her. Running for the hills would be the smart thing, because surely Thor can't hold off all those dozens of people from such a big entrance-
A rumble of thunder broke and tumbled across the sky; a lightning strike sounded and Hel could see the light of it under the door. There's silence again behind the door before her uncle starts shouting very, very angrily, and she can't understand it but whatever it is it works because two minutes later he opens the door with a big smile.
Once inside, Hela realizes the table is actually many tables put together to make one long one. She realizes this because two of them have been turned over.
Picking her way among wasted food, the teen keeps her head down and lets the thunderer guide her to the very end of the table where she sits on the edge of the bench and he sits on her only free side. There's silence and not a single person is sitting at the table now, all of them watching from the farthest sides of the room with hostile looks. Hel…suddenly isn't so hungry.
Thor pays no mind to the watchers, snatching a plate and unceremoniously dumping the food already on it onto another already-in-use plate. Cups and bowls get shoved out of Hel's way and the plate is plunked down in front of her. She nearly crumples under his hand as he brings it down on her shoulder and says enthusiastically, "Eat, niece!"
Her appetite has shriveled and died under the glare of the other Asgardians, but even still she reaches for the food.
About five minutes or so after she and Thor (who was happily munching what looked similar to a turkey leg) had sat down, the wary, tense Asgardians that had had their meal so rudely interrupted finally started to sit back down, one by one and hushed amongst themselves. Suspicious looks were thrown her way, but all the same they resumed their meal.
It was only ten minutes in that a cup full of something strong-smelling was shoved in her hand.
By who, she didn't know, as she'd had her eyes trained dutifully on her plate as she chewed on some strange fruit that honest-to-God tasted like a fruit roll up. But she suspected that if Thor knew he'd take it from her.
Because Hel wasn't stupid. She could tell it was ale. An actual alcoholic beverage.
She sniffed it, nose wrinkling at the strong smell, and wondered what it would taste like.
A mischievous feeling stole over her. Honestly, if she got caught for drinking it, she could always claim she didn't know what it was. And really, with everything else going on, it wasn't like it was the worst thing that she could get in trouble with. A quick look and nope, Thor was too wrapped up in a story with the person on his other side.
But she noted with a raised eyebrow that some Asgardians sitting in front of her and a little down the table were watching her with rapt attention. She chalked it down to their paranoia of her turning psycho and took a big swig of the ale.
Mistake number one.
Hela was drunk.
With the way she was suddenly too warm and every turn of the head made the room tilt on its axis, she was most definitely drunk. As her drunkenness had progressed, the Asgardians seemed to liven up again, laughing and eagerly passing food around. Thor had been engaged in a battle story for the past five minutes that, had she any idea where or who or what he was talking about, would have been a great distraction from the way the food on her plate seemed to double on its own. Maybe she should just-
Suddenly there was a loud, rambunctious cheer and Hel was pushed off the end of the bench as Thor was suddenly pushed down the bench by the person on the other side of him. It took her a minute to register this though, because suddenly she went from sitting upright to on the floor on her side and more dizzy than ever. Once she did actually register it, and heard the outburst of laughter from the Asgardians at her plight, she was almost certain it had been on purpose.
For a moment she felt a burning cold anger sweep through her and more than ever she wanted to lash out, but it died quickly, leaving her feeling burned out and hollow.
She didn't belong here. Even amongst her origins she was an outsider.
So Hel picked herself and her dignity off the floor, resting against the table for balance when standing.
Thor asked her something, probably if she was okay, but she just waved him off. After a moment of hesitation the thunderer turned back to his war story, resuming it in full fervor.
Without even thinking about it, Hel slipped away from the table and towards the door, determined to find some solitude.
She wandered the halls of the palace aimlessly, hand on the wall to steady herself. People mysteriously disappeared once she was close, so no one bothered or tried to stop her.
Hela let her feet wander up halls, down stairs. She didn't think about much of anything other than the interior decorating of the halls; it was a safe if boring subject.
After a while, she found that she had wandered outside past the courtyards and to a big, black tunnel-looking entrance that led down somewhere with two freaky looking guards on each side of the big entrance leading into darkness. With a raised eyebrow, she stumbled closer until they finally registered her presence.
They regarded her with a wary expression. Hel wobbled on her feet for a moment, but managed to put her hands on her hips and look up at them. "I hope whatever's in there is worth guarding."
Nothing. They just stared at her.
An idea struck her. "Is it the prison? Is Loki down there?"
They only tensed up more at his name. She sighed. "Guys, I'm obviously drunk. What trouble could I cause?"
Again, nothing. Maybe not the best question to ask.
"Look, I swear to you that I will not cause any trouble or try to release Loki. I'll even warn you beforehand if the urge to destroy something strikes me."
They were ignoring her now.
"One of you could come with me and stand a respectable, non-eavesdropping distance away…"
The guard on the left looked considering at that, so Hela went silent and let him think for a few minutes. After a tense waiting, he finally looked down at her and said in a deep voice, "Very well."
Well, she thought to herself, that was a little anticlimactic.
Soon he was walking down the stairs, torches lighting as he went, and leading her down, down into further darkness.
"Is something wrong?"
Hel stared at the rooms built into the side of each wall, with their clear shield and alien criminals in each of them (who were scrutinizing her in a way that was almost a glare), and thought, There is no way in hell I'm walking past all of them.
But instead she just scooted closer to the guard and said, "Nope, nothing wrong."
He hummed and continued into the prison. She stuck to him like glue, but even then the eyes of every criminal on her left her with chills on her arms and shuddering.
After what seemed like forever, they reached a hallway that branched away from everything else. The guard pointed her down it. "All the way down there." And then took up his position at the end, ramrod straight and attentive.
Without further ado, Hela began stumbling her way down the hall.
Loki did not look pleased or impressed to see her.
"Please tell me you did not make your way through the dungeon all by yourself."
Ah, he must've been thinking about the creepy alien guys straight from Men in Black, too. She huffed a laugh and flopped on the ledge in front of his cell, inches from the shimmering shield. "Please. You really think they'd have let me wander in here, or anywhere at all by myself."
The leather clad god had moved closer to the shield and was peering at her intensely now. His cell actually had some small pieces of furniture in it, along with a few books. She chalked it down to being a former prince. Hel swung her legs up on the ledge, leaning back on her elbows. Feeling the stare she was under, she said, "Take a picture, it'll last longer."
Another moment of intense staring, and then an incredulous, "Are you drunk?"
She swung her gaze to his until blue eyes met green and asked, "What if I am?"
"By the Norns, I am going to kill Thor."
She pointed at him, or in his general direction. "I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say you say that a lot. But hey, this wasn't Thor's fault. Somebody else gave it to me. And I shamelessly admit to taking advantage of it."
Agitated now, Loki threw his arms out as he started stalking back and forth in his cell. "That doesn't matter! He should have at least been watching out for you! The oaf cannot even get that right."
She raised an eyebrow. "I can take care of myself."
He shot a withering look at her. "Well, apparently not, if even without the inhibitions of alcohol you make decisions like the one to drink the alcohol."
"You realize that doesn't make sense, right? In order to have the 'inhibitions of alcohol' I'd have to drink the alcohol in the first place when I'm sober. It's like the Chicken or Egg question. You have to have one before the other…."
"How many glasses did you have?"
Two and a half, but like she was going to tell him that. "You'd be happier not knowing."
He made a sound of exasperation and dragged a hand through his hair. "Oh, I am going to kill him."
Hela didn't reply to that, just watched him as Loki paced agitatedly back and forth, side to side in his cell, looking like a lion stalking its cage. Without even thinking about it, she said, "You really hate it in there, don't you." It wasn't a question.
He slowed to stop, long enough for him to glance outside down the hall and back to her. In that moment she saw the longing and weariness reemerge for a few moments. "I do. I hate it."
In a moment of sobriety Hel remember her reason for coming to Asgard and she looked at him with determination. "Well, I promise I'll fix this. I swear."
He took the promise with silence, a guarded look on his face. "Do not make promises you cannot keep." Then something passed over his face, and his expression changed from solemn to angered in a second. "You- You-"
Hel nodded. "Me. I know."
"You should not even be here! Stupid girl, what were you thinking? What if we'd lost you in the Bifrost, in between worlds? You were not supposed to follow me!"
At this sudden outburst, she sat up, more than a little pissed and somewhat hurt. "Excuse me, I'm sorry if the only reason I came was to save your ass from being locked up forever on an alien planet, because you're doing so well on figuring out a peaceful solution at paying your dues. Which I might add, there's a lot of them to be paid."
Emerald eyes glared at her for a few moments longer before he turned away, face going blank. "I…am sorry. You had worried me. You still areworrying me."
"I can take care of myself."
"That may be. But this is a new world for you, Hela, one in which judgment has already been cast upon you for an insipid prophecy that may never come true. I…perhaps did not help matters, but-"
"Wait, do the people here know about Manhattan?"
His silence wasn't reassuring.
"Loki!"
"No!" he snapped, green eyes flaring. "They do not, unless Odin has suddenly decided to share Midgardian affairs with the entirety of Asgard."
Hel's mouth pressed into a thin line. "Then why. Why are they so afraid? Why do they hate us so much?"
Loki said nothing.
She stood suddenly and angrily, almost falling but managing to stand steady and strong. "I swear to God, Loki, if you don't tell me, or worse, lie, I'll-" She couldn't finish, her hands clenching into fists as a slow burning anger built up inside her. Whispering voices started to creep in but she ignored it.
The god had looked away by now, staring off and looking more weary than ever. Softly, he said, "I will never lie to you, Hela. Never."
"Then tell me."
He looked back at her then, almost apologetically. "I do not think I can. If I did so, you might think of me quite differently."
And yet here I am on a completely different planet trying to fight for your life, Hel thought sourly. But instead she said, "Dammit, Loki, tell me."
His eyes narrowed. "Need I remind you I am your father, Hel. I do not take orders from you."
In one motion Hela put a foot on the ledge of his cell, leveraging herself up. She was mad. No, beyond mad. The whispering voices grew louder, making it hard for her to think. She felt like she was buzzing with anger as she stepped up to the gold shimmering shield of the cell. Leaning as close as she dared, Hel snapped viciously, "You don't get to call yourself my father until you start acting like one.
She paused at the look on his face but continued on. "Those people out there hate me, Loki, are even afraid of me. And I don't even know why. At least on Earth I knew people disliked me because I was different. Here, I don't know if its because I'm your daughter, or if its something youdid, or if its because of that silly prophecy saying I'm gonna help do the universe in. But if they're gonna hate me, curse me, be scared for theirlife around me, then I want to know why and it better be a damn good reason."
The trickster was staring at her with a shocked expression, mouth agape and disbelief of enormous proportions written across his face. It was probably the most she had seen him express.
Then something in his expression flickered and he stepped closer, looking at her more intensely than ever. After a moment he shook his head, brow furrowing, and looked away. "Hela..."
A little bit of her anger dissipates then to be replaced by desperation. He looks so tired and weary, she almost regrets saying it all.
Then he sighs and runs a hand through his hair, seeming to come to a conclusion. "A very, very long time ago, a race of creatures from the planet Jotunheim called frost giants waged war on the nine realms, threatening to conquer them all. As protector of the nine realms, Odin engaged in war with them on Jotunheim and Midgard. The war lasted a very long time, but it ended with Asgard's armies laying waste to Jotunheim and Odin striking down Laufey, the king, but not killing him. Laufey is actually how Odin lost his eye."
At this point Hel interrupted, growing impatient. "Okay, but if this happened so long ago, then what-"
"After that final battle," Loki went on quietly, looking past her in an unseeing gaze, "Odin found a baby in one of the temples, presumably left to die because of its small size by frost giant standards. He took the infant back to Asgard where he and Frigga raised it as their own son without telling anyone of his true heritage."
Hel suddenly felt sick because this was leading somewhere bad, and she had a sick feeling that she knew where.
Loki was staring at her, face completely blank.
It suddenly made sense, she realized. Why Thor and Loki looked so different for brothers, why Loki looked nothing like Odin or Frigga, why he would have been so angry-
Feeling very, very sick and shocked, she realized that she wasn't even related to Thor or Odin or Frigga or any Asgardian. Swallowing, Hela came back to herself and looked at weary green eyes. Barely above a whisper, she said, "Oh, Loki."
He gave her a small, bitter smile but continued. "Fast forward many years later, and by way of Thor's stupidity, I find out about my true heritage." His expression twisted at the words. "Odin tells me everything, including his plans to use me as a peacemaker between Jotunheim and Asgard." Loki paused at that point, looking unfocused for a moment, but continuing. "Due to the stress from I finding out the truth and the repercussions of Thor's mistake, Odin fell into the Odinsleep to reclaim his strength. By that point Thor had already been banished to Midgard, so it was left to me to take the throne..."
Hel listens. She listens as Loki tells her about his plan to rid the nine realms of frost giants by essentially blowing up Jotunheim, listens as he tells her that he purposely led the frost giants into Asgard to kill Odin just so he could kill Laufey for Odin, listens as he tells her about the Destroyer he sent to kill Thor on Earth. She listens as he tells her about the broken Bifrost, tells her about the black hole, listens as he tells her the moment where he hung off the Bifrost with Thor and Odin and completely gave up and let go.
At the end of it, she... She's not sure what she feels.
She shakes her head, amazed at how empty she feels. In a whisper, she says, "Loki... I don't... I just..." She trails off shaking her head. "How?"
He says nothing.
"How could you do that? How could you... Genocide? Killing your biological father?" His expression darkens at that. "Trying to kill your brother?"
"He is not my brother!" Loki shouts suddenly, hands clenching and green eyes flashing.
She still doesn't know what to say. Hel just isn't sure what to feel anymore. She shakes her head again. Quietly she says, "I... I think it's time I left, Loki. I'll... I'll be back later."
The trickster's anger drains away at that, leaving him looking defeated. "Hela, do not abandon me as well. Please."
She doesn't meet his eyes as she steps off the ledge and hugs the wrap on her shoulders around her tighter. "I'm coming back later. Promise. I just need to think for a while."
And she really, really does just need a quiet place to think.
Whether it happens purposely or intentionally, Hel slips her way around the palace until she comes to the back of it by chance. The back of the palace is filled with beautiful gardens and fountains almost as far as the eye can see. Almost.
Just beyond the end of the gardens, there's a forest of looming trees.
That seems like a good place to go, she reasons as she begins trekking across the gardens. No Asgardians, no judgement, no Loki.
When she glances at the sky, it almost seems as if the light is setting, but its still hard for her to tell with the different constellations and moons. So she walks on, telling herself she has plenty of time, or at least hoping she does.
An hour later, and Hel is certain of three things:
Her head is starting to hurt from the alcohol. She is getting really cold. And this was most definitely one of her bad ideas.
(If she was ready to admit that she was lost, there would be four, not three, things she was certain of, but she wasn't ready to go so far as to say 'lost' yet. Just 'turned around'.)
But she is getting really cold, and where the hell did this cold come from?
Hela shivers violently, hunched against the wind as giant snowflakes begins to fill the air and cake the ground. The wind howls. Snow pelts her skin, stinging like bees. It begins to build on the ground at an alarming rate.
It strikes her, then, that this is a blizzard.
And not a soul knows where she is. Hel doesn't know where she is.
As the wind turns into a gale, it takes on an almost laughing sound. Hela's survival instinct kicks in and she pulls the wrap off her shoulders and tries to wrap it around her head and at least part of her shoulders. It helps somewhat, and she takes off toward the nearest tree to hunker down against the wind on the ground in the smallest ball she can get into.
It's the only thing she knows to do.
Maybe, she thinks to herself hopefully, they'll find me if I stay in one spot. Maybe.
It's gotten darker since the blizzard began, and it's a little intimidating. All she can see are the long dark forms of the trees in the whiteout of the blizzard and nothing beyond that. Not even Asgard's sky. A well of loneliness springs up inside her and she buries her head in her arms, drawing into an even smaller ball.
Her breathe freezes in her chest when a voice whispers through the howling wind in her ear. "Are you cold yet, maiden?'
Fear makes it impossible for Hel to look up. She squeezes her eyes shut.
There's a raspy laugh, clear as a bell in the winds. "I asked you a question, little maiden. Are you col-"
And as the question was being asked, she could feel a thin, cold hand laying on her shoulder. But just as the hand settled, it jerked back with a hiss, the question cut off midway.
"Jotun blood."
She barely registers what the voice says. Instead she dares sneak a peek while one hand feels through the snow around her for something to arm herself with. She really shouldn't be shocked by what she sees considering everything she's been through, but even so, she is.
Drawing back from her is a smallish figure wrapped in the furs of several animals, some she doesn't recognize. The figure appears to be a man, an old man, because the hands and wrists disappearing into the furs is thin and sickly with wrinkled skin. She can't see his face because his hood - made from a fierce-looking wolf head - covers the greater part of his face as he hunches over.
...And he's blue.
Her hand hits something big and solid, and she instantly grabs up the rock. Holding it high above her head Hel pushes back from the figure, even as he draws away from her.
"Leave me alone!" she hisses at the man, barely registering the snowstorm dying down around them.
He's shaking his head, muttering to himself. "Not possible... It's not possible..."
As the wind begins to settle down and the snow stops falling, allowing for minimal lighting to reenter the tree, Hela feels the tension leak out of her as she stares at the old man. He almost doesn't seem like a threat anymore, just crazy because he talked to himself. Still, it was better safe than sorry so she kept her rock. "Who are you?" she asked in what she hoped was a bold tone.
That stops his muttering, prompting the fur-covered head to turn to her. There's a beat of silence before a suddenly much clearer, younger voice says, "How kind of you to ask, though I do believe it is etiquette for the gentleman to ask the lady first. And so," he said as he suddenly walked closer to her, seemingly standing much taller and moving more easily, "who are you?"
Her jaw works for a moment before she sighs and grudgingly says, "Hel."
The man gives a small huff of a laugh and fidgets with the furs on his form. Now that he wasn't hunched over, Hel could see that he actually only had a large cloak made of mismatched furs and a matching fur vest while his shirt was made of worn, brown leather that hung loose on him and was torn from the collar almost halfway down his chest. His pants appeared to be made of a different material colored black and his shoes were simply furs wrapped around his feet and ankles and tied off with rope.
Blue lips quirk into a smile (and Hela swears that a just a minute earlier he had had an aged appearance to the part of his face she could see, but now he looked young) and he says, "I thought they taught maidens not to swear these days?"
She was not amused. Rock now at her side, Hel says flatly, "I wasn't cursing. That was my name."
It surprises him, she can tell, just by the way he shifts and tilts his head the slightest bit. After a few moments he finally says in a contemplative tone, "That Hel, then." She takes note of the slight accent, but doesn't recognize it. After another beat he smiles widely and says, "You know, some people around here would consider your name a curse."
"Gee, thanks." Hel wishes for once that this guy would just be scared like everyone else and take off in the opposite direction. She really wants to find her way back now.
"So, Queen Hel, are you lost?"
She can't help but stare at him because just hearing herself addressed like that was weird. Shaking it off, she completely ignores his question and says, "You never told me your name."
"You are lost." He's full blown grinning now, snow-white teeth glinting in the fading darkness. If she was kidding herself, Hel would have thought that his canines were similar to the fangs of the wolf head covering his head.
The man pushed back his hood back, revealing pale, blue sky skin and cold, mirthful indigo eyes. He looked to be in his early twenties, but Hel swears that he had looked older just a minute ago. A lot older. His hair was white with an almost pearly sheen to it, illuminated more so by the moons rising in the sky.
He bows low and almost mockingly, a hand on his stomach and the other out-stretched beside him. "Jokul Frosti, at your service."
So... Jokul Frosti.
There was in fact a Marvel superhero named Jack Frost, but he lived out his storyline a very long time ago and it was fairly short (compared to some storylines). Since I intended this Viking version to be a completely different guy, I figured it wouldn't matter.
As for Jokul Frosti, well. I have a thing for very adverse and diverse characters. Some people may not like him very well later.
Also: mythology is going to go more in depth later. Perhaps next chap. Actually that's quite likely.
NEXT CHAPTER: Jokul Frosti messes with Hel. (But it's only 'cause he knows more than he's letting on.) There's some trials, too, but Hel's not allowed in because it's her father on the stand (who refuses to let her be his unofficial lawyer). Oh, and there's magic.