I wrote this chapter scene by scene and was kind of startled when I realized it was nearly finished. This is a good strategy that I hope to repeat (but faster) for future installments. Reading, watching, and playing The Witcher after years and years of my brothers hounding me to play the third game isn't seeming to get in the way of writing too much and I'm enjoying it in all three formats and hoping to add the graphic novels for good measure.
Niflheim
The battle against Malekith hadn't lasted nearly as long as Hela would have liked. As she had expected, the source of his power was consuming him. His attacks were brutal but she was too quick for them to more than graze her. No matter how carefully she tried to drag things out by dealing only shallow cuts in return, the damage she inflicted only hastened his deterioration. Not wanting to waste the whole battle in that fashion, she sliced away a few sections of his armor to make gaps for deadlier strikes.
Malekith had died with a curse for the line of Bor on his lips, but she severed his vocal cords before he could complete it. She wasn't interested in being subject to any Dokkalfar maledictions, and if any who shared her blood was to suffer, it would be at her hands, not those of Asgard's enemies.
She examined the note her brothers had left again, running her fingers over the runes. The lines were neat with the occasional cheeky flourish. She had already known about her brothers, of course. Father had revealed their existence when he accused her of trying to murder them on his last visit to her prison. Admittedly, all she knew was that they existed. She didn't even know how many there were, but it seemed they were grown now. She really had been here centuries more, at least. Likely closer to a millennium.
Something had changed, though. Her rivals for Hlidskjalf wouldn't have tossed her scraps from their battlefield for no reason. Perhaps they had hoped Malekith would finish her off. Perhaps they had thought to win her favor by giving her some amusement, but if that were the case, why had they waited so long to make contact?
The most likely scenario was that Malekith was bait for something. Fortunately, she had nothing but time to await the hook.
X
Triskelion
Bill had begged Ava to go back to California with him, but she was still spending the majority of her time outside the quantum chamber lurking around the Triskelion. She was probably a trusting idiot for wanting to believe Agent Barton, but that was the thing about being SHIELD's Ghost: she didn't have to simply take his word for it. There was nothing stopping her from watching Barton to find out if he really meant what he'd promised her.
So far, he'd proven they weren't empty words. He'd shared her files with Bruce Banner and he had spoken out against Director Fury's suggestion that SHIELD get something in return for protecting her from Hydra. Fury had been reluctant to concede the point but had still followed through with keeping her off Hydra's radar, creating false mission logs to account for her whereabouts and using the quiet upheaval within Hydra's ranks to help identify more of their members.
Barton was on leave now—she'd been watching closely enough to know that he really was just going home (and that he had a wife and kids to go home to), not being sent off on a mission—and she was still here. She didn't want to care about the struggle between the two organizations beyond what it meant for her, but SHIELD had been her life ever since the accident at her father's lab, and it was harder to turn her back on it than she thought. So when she popped inside a briefing room early in the morning and found it full of agents from Fury's list of Hydra operatives, she stayed where she was.
X
Asgard
Brunnhilde made sure every piece of her Valkyrie armor was spotless before she put it on and she took the most care she had with her braids since the day she joined the Second Wing. Part of her wished Ulfrun and the other Matriarchs would do this themselves, but she understood why it had to fall to her. She strapped the sheathed Dragonfang to her back and headed for the palace. It would be even better if she could have flown in on horseback as the Matriarchs had wanted, but she wasn't ready to fly without Svinna just yet (if she ever would be), and they had not pressed her.
As it was a market day, a lot of people were out in the streets. Musicians played and dancers performed, children darted around adults' legs playing games, and craftsmen of every trade shouted out their wares—the loudest were two potters on either side of the street trying to drown each other out as they described the superior shattering qualities of their tankards.
Anyone who noticed Brunnhilde stared in awe or began whispering excitedly to their friends, and a few were bold enough to match her stride and try to ask her about the battles she'd fought in. Several vendors offered her their creations free of charge. She turned them all down. They may be disappointed now, but they'd be glad she wasn't displaying their work once she'd completed her task.
X
Triskelion
Director Fury had requested Steve return to D.C., but so far all he'd done there was read more files and wait in a building where he knew a significant number of the agents and analysts enthusiastically greeting him whenever they saw him were part of Hydra. He couldn't take much more of pretending everything was normal, but neither Tony nor Natasha had found anything new about Bucky yet.
Powerless to act, he tried to purge some of his restlessness with a long run through the heart of D.C. at the crack of dawn, followed by a brutal session with one of the punching bags in the Triskelion's training gym. Two more punches and the bag flew off its chain, spilling sand across the mat.
"Looks like we might need better gym equipment."
Steve turned to find Agent Coulson walking towards him, a thick folder under his arm. "Sorry about that," he said sheepishly. "So, uh, Deputy Director Hill has her meeting with the World Security Council today? I guess that makes it a pretty big day around here, huh?"
"Hopefully not," said Coulson.
Steve gestured at the folder. "Is that an assignment?"
"Just some things I thought might be a nice change of pace from all the personnel files Fury's been sending you," said Coulson. "And a copy of the report on the wreckage of the Hydra plane. I could take you to get breakfast and walk you through the files?"
Steve was pretty sure he didn't need help looking at those materials but it seemed rude to refuse. "Breakfast sounds great."
"Great! We can take Lola."
Steve kept his expression neutral. "Any chance this ends with me signing those vintage cards for you?"
Coulson was less successful at keeping his own expression neutral. "If you have time."
X
Asgard
The guards outside the throne room stood up straighter at the sight of Brunnhilde and stepped aside for her to enter, not so much as inquiring about her business or confiscating her weapon. They really were treating her like she was once again the Commander of the Second Wing. But that all worked in her favor. If they were granting her the credibility of an active military commander, then they were only making her words harder to dismiss.
Inside were a number of nobles from Asgard and Vanaheim, several Council members, and more guards. Odin sat upon the throne, listening to one of the Council members while scritching a raven under the beak.
She strode forward, straight down the center of the chamber. Odin's eye found her when she was about halfway to him, and the Council member fell silent after another dozen paces. She reached the foot of the golden steps. There were a few gasps and mutters when she neither bowed nor put fist to heart, but she kept her gaze on the king.
"Brunnhilde," said Odin. "What business brings you before Hlidskjalf today?"
"You may prefer not to have an audience for it, Allfather," said Brunnhilde. "I come on behalf of the Matriarchs of the Valkyrior."
The mutters grew louder, but Odin raised a hand and silence fell at once. "The more witnesses remain, the better chance the truth will spread instead of rumors," he said. "Speak."
X
New York City
"Sir, I have uncovered numerous files on Sergeant Barnes, including mission reports from the last sixty years. However, I'm not sure it would be wise to read them while he is still at large. It may negatively impact your objectivity and ability to strategize."
"Show me the files, JARVIS," said Tony. He'd been expecting the trap to appear at any moment, and it looked like that moment was now. "Translate to English, if they aren't already."
"Yes, sir." The air was suddenly full of holographic images of documents, many of which featured large photographs, names, and dates at the top. There were Soviet generals, American scientists, an Iranian physicist. One file was partially obscured behind another, only the date visible. December 16, 1991. A chill went down Tony's spine. Slowly, he reached to swat away the top file.
Target: Stark, Howard Anthony Walter.
Target eliminated. Operative retrieved all five known vials of the Stark super soldier serum. Security footage retrieved by Hydra operative inside Pentagon and wiped. Civilians on scene, 1: Maria Stark. Eliminated. 0 remaining witnesses. Cause of death determined to be injuries sustained when the vehicle swerved off the icy road.
Mission: successful.
Tony stood frozen in front of the file, feeling like all of his insides had vanished.
"Sir?"
He had never been fully convinced that it was just a car crash. His dad was a good driver and they were so close to the Pentagon when it happened. Obadiah had set up an investigation into the crash and when the results corroborated the M.E.'s report, they'd moved on. It made sense now. Obadiah had been in on it, or at least they'd bought him off. It would've been easy to persuade him to look the other way when it meant he'd end up with more control of the company.
"Sir, the reason I was able to find the files is that there was new activity on a server that has been largely inactive. Another file was added today."
A new image popped up in front of Tony, with four captioned photographs.
Target: Barton, Clinton Francis.
Target: Barton, Laura.
Acceptable additional target: Barton, Cooper.
Acceptable additional target: Barton, Lila.
The last two were just kids.
There had never been a more obvious baited hook, but that barely mattered. Hydra was going to find a much bigger fish on their line than they had bargained for. Barnes had assassinated Tony's parents and now he was going for another family, with optional child murder. Brainwashing only excused so much, as far as Tony was concerned. What kind of person did someone have to be to keep going when they were handed orders like that?
"Looks like I'm headed to Missouri."
"Shall I inform Agent Romanoff and Captain Rogers?"
"No."
X
Niflheim, 1005 A.D.
Not for the first time in her life, Hela stood at the center of a field of bodies, but it was only the second time the bodies were Asgardian. The Valkyrior had paid the ultimate price for their treason. To think that the same women who had fought at her side when Asgard chased the Mad Titan out of Yggdrasil had come to Niflheim to assassinate her. But they'd shown signs of weakness since before the Aesir-Vanir war, and they had ultimately sided with Odin's witch of a bride when Hela tried to take her realm back. It had been a mistake to put warriors so closely tied to Vanaheim in such high positions in Asgard's military.
She strode towards the violet vortex they'd been defending. She had expected those loyal to her on Asgard to work more quickly, but they had conjured her means of escape at last.
There was a flash of gold from the vortex. Hela shouted and tried to dodge but the spear pierced her through the right shoulder and slammed her into the rock. She was pinned like an insect. The vortex coalesced around a larger figure, and Odin stepped through. Between the thick streaks of gray in his hair and beard the patch over his left eye, he wasn't quite the father she remembered. Had she been here that long?
She snarled and flung blades at him from the ground as he moved closer, but he waved a hand and they shattered into harmless shards that clattered to his feet. How could he have this much power and waste it on peace? She struggled to pull Gungnir free. It was immovable. Odin stared around at the bloody corpses of warriors and winged steeds. "What have I done?" he breathed.
"You sent them to kill me!" Hela accused.
"I sent them to stop your escape while I dealt with your rabble. They will not be coming to your aid."
Hela sneered but it was mostly to cover a wince of pain. She still couldn't move Gungnir so much as an inch.
Odin turned to her, his one-eyed gaze piercing her through. "Was it you? Did you send your lackeys to kill your brothers?"
A whirl of emotions flooded her at the question, primarily shock. It wasn't just a question, however, and she fought to hold her tongue against the power of Gungnir. Even though she had just wiped out Asgard's elite warriors unassisted, it was taking all her strength to keep her jaws together. Odin closed the remaining distance between them and seized the end of the spear. Gungnir's compulsion surged. Three words burst from her. "I have brothers?" She hated how they came out, like she was still a little girl with two living parents, wondering when they would give her a sibling to play with. Wondering with tears in her eyes and a lump in her throat why nothing she did seemed to make them like each other.
Furious with herself for letting Gungnir wrench any sign of weakness from her, Hela went on, "You had sons with that Vanr witch? First you abandon everything we dreamed of for Asgard, and now you replace me with her children?"
He seemed as unconcerned about her vitriol as her blades, which only infuriated her more. "Then you didn't know of their plans," he said. His grip on the spear loosened.
"How could I know of their plans when you've trapped me here alone?" she said, still struggling to free herself. "The Valkyrior were the only contact I've had since you imprisoned me." She forced a maniacal laugh. "Did you think you could be rid of me so easily?"
"I never wanted to be rid of you, my child, but you left me with no choice. Do you think any of this has been easy? We were tyrants drenched in blood, and Asgard was a blight upon Yggdrasil and the cosmos. It is our duty to mend what we have broken. You could have been part of that, but you chose otherwise."
"Did you lose the eye mending what you broke?" she jeered. "You still make war, Borson, but you've abandoned what made you good at it. You may be ashamed of your past, but you cannot make me ashamed of being the Goddess of Death."
His brow furrowed into an expression like resignation or pity. She hated him for it. "When the Norns gave you your title, I thought I knew what it meant. I was so proud to name you my executioner." He shook his head. "One of the many ways I failed you."
"Enough!" she spat. "Are you here to kill me, Father? You'd better get on with it. As long as I'm alive, those who believe in the Asgard of Bor will keep fighting you."
Rage flashed in his eye and he reached for the spear again. She screamed as he ripped it back out of her shoulder. He thrust it forward again, his teeth bared.
This was it; the Goddess of Death was about to inherit her final realm.
More memories came to her unbidden. The times she and Father had laid on her balcony with their heads next to each other, searching for constellations and making up their own until she fell asleep. The times she'd escaped her tutors to find him in the throne room, and instead of sending her back to them, he'd lifted her onto his lap and held her while he continued the business of the day. The times she and Fenris had raced him on Sleipnir across the fields. The times they'd gone to battle side by side.
Why did everything have to change?
The tip of the spear was so close to her throat that she could feel it when she swallowed, but the fatal blow never came. "Father?"
He pulled back, drawing a shaking hand over his face. "Your death would not stop the rebellion. They did not need you there to start it, only the memory of you. That is what I will take from them. You will remain here for the rest of your days, and Asgard will prosper through peace." He lifted Gungnir into the air. Enraged, she tried to lunge and attack, but he slammed the spear into the ground before she could reach him. The shockwave sent her tumbling backwards. By the time she rolled to a stop, she felt so weak that she could barely move. A horrible dread sank into her. What had he done? It was a struggle to so much as lift her head to look at him. He was clutching the spear for support now. Whatever spell he'd cast with Gungnir, it had cost him all of his power.
"Coward!" She meant to scream it at him, but it came out as more of a croak.
"Perhaps I am," he said quietly. "Goodbye, Hela."
He turned and walked back to the vortex. With one last look over his shoulder at her, he vanished into it. Seconds later, the ripples in the air smoothed and disappeared. Her chance to escape was gone.
Whoops, another chapter of setup. That's Hela's fault. She's only been around for a couple chapters and she's already trying to make it about her. I'd been planning to do that flashback for a long time but didn't have an idea of when I'd need it until now.
I wrote this chapter scene by scene and was kind of startled when I realized it was nearly finished. This is a good strategy that I hope to repeat (but faster) for future installments.
I was already enjoying She-Hulk but the Asgard references last week were *chef's kiss*. I laughed so hard. And also rejoiced because none of it was incompatible with how I've been writing the Ljosalfar. Canon pointy ears! Woot!
Someone requested that I make a glossary about any characters I've added, and I think that's an excellent idea at this point. That will be available in the Ao3 version of the fic since that site actually allows me to include links.