Years passed. Hela continued in the duties of her domain, along with her continued observation of the runes. Thus far, nobody seemed to be aware that her prison walls were slowly but surely crumbling.
Everything continued to go according to plan.
Save for one.
Hela leaned back against the wall and massaged her temples tiredly.
Steven Grant Rogers was swiftly becoming the most aggravating, irrational, and stubborn person she had ever had the displeasure of meeting in all the Nine Realms.
She had had several more conversations with Steve in his dreamscape over the years. In them, she had approached with various offers and arguments - quite effective ones, in her humble opinion - only to be turned down each and every time.
A couple times she had even lost her temper enough to disrupt the dreamscape entirely.
Hela had no idea why he fought her so much on this. Her last attempt, she had straight up asked him what it would take.
"Why do you -"
"Anything at all, no matter how impossible or unreasonable."
"…"
"The strength to protect? Or perhaps the life of somebody you failed to protect? If anything was on the table, what would you choose?"
"… If I were to accept, to sell out my morals regardless of what I'd gain, I'd never be able to live with myself. Besides, Bucky would kill me himself if I asked for him, and my mother would never forgive me if I asked for her."
It was the closest she'd come to seeing him give in.
She knew about Bucky Barnes. He had featured in a large number of Steve's dreams. A close friend, practically a brother, and whose death had a huge impact on him.
And if Hela had scoured Helheim in an attempt to find his soul in an attempt to sway Steve… Well, nobody could prove anything.
Not that it was too surprising that he wasn't in Helheim. From Steve's memories, it was clear Bucky had been an honorable and just soldier. One who had perished in battle, and thus not the type to come to Helheim. But it was frustrating.
Just how was she supposed to tempt him if she didn't have anything he wanted?!
She took a steadying breath, feeling the headache begin to dim.
Why was this bothering her so much?
Hela had had people refuse her before. To those that refused to ally themselves with Asgard, death is what would await them. It had happened before, and it would happen again.
Yet instead of the acceptance she was used to, Hela felt a pit of dread within her chest.
She didn't understand it. Which made her hate it all the more.
"Hey, are you alright ma'am?"
Hela sighed as she lifted her head to see the physical embodiment of her headache.
Or, his pre-serum form anyways.
And somehow, he had found her again, despite her explicitly going to the boundary of his dream to think. She really should look into that at some point, but for now…
"Can I help you?" Hela asked pointedly, ignoring his question.
Tiny Steve gave a small shrug. "No. But you don't look like you're from around here. Looked like you needed to vent."
Yes. Because of you.
Hela raised an eyebrow and gave a look at the very source of that frustration.
Steve flushed, his cheeks and the tips of his ears going red as he looked away. "Yup. That. That look right there, ma'am."
She kept up said 'look' a moment longer before finally letting up with a sigh. "It is nothing. Merely a disagreement with somebody I know. Nothing for you to be concerned about."
It would be cruel to vent to him when he had no recollection of why she was upset.
That was the downside to what she was doing. She could provide an argument or plan, but the slate was wiped clean upon every dream. Or buried under enough of his subconscious that the effect was essentially the same.
It made it possible for her to test proposals, see how he would react so she could use the ideal one upon his awakening, but there could be no long term arguments.
If an 'ideal' proposal even existed. At this point, she was having doubts.
Steve waited for a moment before nodding in acceptance. Instead of pressing, he leaned against the same wall she was. "Do you mind some company then?"
Hela looked at him with a frown. "Why are you here?" She repeated. "You can't tell me you usually walk this way."
Well, he might. But there should be no reason for his dream to revolve around this particular area.
Steve frowned as well, looking unsure for a moment. "Not sure." He murmured. "Needed some space from a friend of mine and something was bothering me..." He shrugged. "I've learned to trust my instincts. And then I saw you looking frustrated."
"I see." Was this a mistake on her end? Or was Steve unusually perceptive to anomalies?
Hela sighed. It would take more experimentation to figure it out, and she simply wasn't up to it right now.
"So why did you need some space from your friend?" She asked instead.
"Well," Steve grimaced. "Bucky, ah, the friend, he's trying to drag me into a double date, and I wasn't in the mood."
Oh?
Hela smirked at his clear discomfort, a bit of good mood returning to her. "You are opposed?"
"To a date? In theory, no." Steve shook his head. "Being the odd man out on one of Bucky's outings? Yeah, kinda."
"Is it not the purpose of a, what, 'double date', to prevent somebody from being the odd one out?" Hela asked. She was somewhat aware of modern courtship rituals, but hadn't felt the need to look more into it.
Steve folded his arms. "Whoever Bucky finds is going to either ditch us early on, or she'll be there to be with Bucky." He stated with a finality that spoke of experience. "And that's assuming she shows up."
"Perhaps you should endeavor to find your own date, if your friend's choices are so lacking." Hela stated archly. "Are you truly at the point where you are dependent on your friend to find a woman?"
Steve let out a snort, "The only reason Bucky's doing it is because he feels bad." He said dryly. "I gave up on 'dates' a while ago."
"Why is that?" Hela asked, feeling curious. Thinking back, she realized that none of his previous memories or dreams of his past had ever featured a 'date' in his pre-serum form.
The only 'date' she had seen had been planned, but never gone on.
A week. Next Saturday, at the Stork Club. Eight o'clock on the dot. Don't you dare be late.
Steve gave her a disbelieving look. "Have you seen me?" He gestured to himself with a self-deprecating wave. "Most women don't want to date a guy they could step on."
Hela had to actively hide her amusement at that statement. Considering the numerous affairs between Giantess' and Asgardians, she knew that wasn't true.
Still, she took his words as an offer to truly look at him, taking a moment to scrutinize Steve's pre-serum form. Or, his memory of how he looked.
Hmmm.
Well, it was true that at a little over five feet he was shorter than average - a full head shorter than she was - and surprisingly thin.
Picturing him how he would look in only a few years, the comparison was almost comical.
Regardless, she didn't see what the issue was.
Steve was far from ugly. With his shining blue eyes, blonde hair, and expressive face, Hela was sure he'd caught somebody's eyes.
"I think you are exaggerating." She finally concluded.
Steve sputtered a bit at her blasé statement, turning slightly red. "About what?!"
"The depth of your undesirability." Hela explained with a small wave of her hand.
He would never be a warrior, but with his mind? A seidmann was well within his abilities. Or a lore keeper, if he sought a path away from combat.
Steve narrowed his eyes at her. "I think I have a pretty good idea of my own image." He remarked dryly. "I'd like to think that being turned down by so many women has given me that much at least."
"Perhaps the issue lies with the women you attempt to court." Hela advised lightly. "Either by your efforts or your friend."
"And where might all these women be?"
Hela tilted her head thoughtfully. "Clearly not where you're looking." She answered eventually, well aware her answer was vague.
Steve let out a huff. "So you're saying that you'd go on a date with me?" He asked sarcastically.
The question… Actually took her by surprise.
Hela had always been too busy to think about stuff like that. Expectations and duties. As a Valkyrie, as Executioner, then as Commander.
She was Hela Odinsdottir, Goddess of the Dead and rightful heir of the Nine Realms. Courtship was not and never had been a part of her plans. Certainly not with a mortal, regardless of her opinion of him.
And yet she saw the challenge in his eyes, the belief he already won…
Her grievances with Steve rose up like a tsunami within her. All the irritation he had caused her the past several years with his irrationality. All the frustration.
He considered this an argument he would win? Then she would refuse him his victory.
"Yes," Hela finally answered, smirking at his suddenly dumbfounded expression. "I believe I would."
"You -" Steve looked as if the floor had been pulled out from underneath him, the very fabric of his dream shuddering at his shock and confusion. "Y-you'd want to -"
"I expect you to pick me up here this evening." She bulldozed over his confusion. "Five o'clock sharp."
Did her logic make sense?
Probably not.
Was it petty?
Absolutely.
But she would take what she could get.
Besides, it was hardly like he would remember it. Just as he couldn't remember any of the headaches he had caused her.
She deserved this after all he had put her through.
Steve seemed to struggle for a few seconds more before he finally got his expression under control. Letting out a cough, he took a deep breath…
And in that moment his expression looked reminiscent of how it would be after he received the serum. His determination, his strength of will shining through his eyes as he stared at her.
This was the one who had gained her intrigue. Not the 'perfect soldier' the Midgardian military desired, but a mortal with the willpower to move mountains.
"I - if you really want to, I want to do this right." Steve insisted. "Hela Odindottir, would you like to go out with me this evening?"
Hela raised an eyebrow. She hadn't told him her name this round… "I would love to." She accepted graciously, brushing the oddity aside.
The stunned expression he tried to hide made it worth it.
The dream blurred from there, the timeline shifting swiftly to the evening. One moment she's accepting to go on a date, the next it was evening, with Steve escorting her down the street.
Hela looks around curiously. "So where are we going this evening?" She asked.
Steve hesitated, eye's searching hers for a moment, "I wasn't sure what you'd like, so I figured we'd see a film first, and then I'd take you to dinner. Unless you wanted to do something else?"
"No no, this is fine." Hela assured him, slightly amused.
She notices how the details have shifted. Becoming less sharp, hazy, even as they remain. The difference between when a dream was based on a fantasy versus a memory.
This is what Steve hoped for on a date, as opposed to anything based on what he had gone through.
He took her to the theater. Alas, here is where the dream became hazy. Without ever having gone on a date, his mind couldn't properly construct a good memory.
As if sensing her waning interest, Steve began talking to her about the war.
… In hindsight, Hela doubted he realized what he was getting into.
When he started describing the German Front and the current positions of the lines, she retaliated by providing strategies and insights into what was happening and what should be done to counteract things… and things sort of evolved from there.
It was important to realize - though this was based on pre-serum Steve, it was not pre-war Steve. All of his expertise and knowledge gained from the war were there, simply buried under his subconscious.
The theater blurs in and out of existence as Hela and Steve forget about the movie entirely as they begin debating strategies and tactics. And while Steve has to enlighten her on the various technological advances, she is still pleased when she wins their little debate.
And in the process she had drafted plans that would completely redefine the European Front and shorten the war by a substantial margin.
Not that it was of any use, but it was a fun thought experiment.
Hela smirked as Steve looked up and blinked - the movie finally ending. Whether that was because it truly was a coincidental length or his dream 'ended' it upon the completion of their discussion, she wasn't sure.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to talk the entire time," Steve apologized, red faced, and Hela laughed.
"I think our discussion was more enticing than whatever was playing." She remarked as she stood up and extended her hand. "Shall we?"
They talk as he takes her to a club and they order food. There's music playing in the background, and several couples are already on the dance floor.
Steve noticed her glancing at the dancers and grimaces, "I'm sorry I can't take you dancing." He apologized. "I've never learned how."
Hela hums to herself. Truthfully, neither did she. At least, not this type of dancing.
Still, she rose, taking a startled Steve by the hand. "Neither do I. But how hard could it be?" She asks as she walks him to the center.
Steve might not have known how to dance, but he'd seen people do it. After watching a few of the people around them, she mimicked them as best as she could, her arms around Steve, his arms on her waist as they swayed.
Hmmmm, she wasn't sure how she felt about this type of dancing… Maybe she'd teach Steve some Asgardian dances.
"Thank you."
Hela looked at Steve appraisingly. "For what?"
"For going out with me. For not leaving halfway through." He blushed. "I truly appreciate it."
She shrugged, "In truth, you are doing me a favor. So I should be thanking you." She replied lightly.
Steve chuckled, "I doubt it balances out quite like that." He murmured before his eyes narrowed in concern. "When we first met, you were really frustrated over something." He noted. "What exactly was it about?"
Hela frowned. "Why do you ask?"
Steve shrugged, "it's just…" he nodded towards the dance floor. "After what you've done for me, I want to help you out as well. Even if it's just talking about it."
"And you think reminding me about my frustrations is a good way to help?" She asked sarcastically, eyes narrowed.
"No." He murmured, looking at her questioningly. "But it feels like it's been lurking in the back of your mind, still bothering you." He shrugged. "If I can help, then I want to."
It was then that Hela had to add another thing to her list of Steve Rogers.
Steve wasn't just nice. He was good in a way that Hela couldn't quite understand. If any of these women had ever looked past his physical trappings, they would have found a worthy partner.
Yet there was one way in which he was similar to most males out there.
If he felt there was a problem, then he had this almost compulsive desire to fix it.
And right now, the problem he was trying to fix was her issues with him. Not that he realized it…
Sigh.
"I… Own a company." Hela answers eventually. "There is somebody that I wish to work with me. However, he continually rejects all of my attempts, regardless of my offers." She huffed.
They danced for a few moments longer, Steve's face the picture of concentration.
"Well, based on what you've said - I mean, I notice you haven't given many details - but does he not like you maybe?" Steve suggested hesitantly.
Hela rolled her eyes. "We have talked, and have gotten along just fine". She replied dryly.
"Ok then". Steve nodded seriously. "Then… Maybe he doesn't agree with what your company is doing?"
Her lips twitched. 'Doesn't agree' was putting it lightly. "To a degree, perhaps." She admitted. "But I have offered a great many things that would be beneficial to him."
Steve shrugged, "then maybe your goals are just too different." He said apologetically. "It might not be what you want, but, even if he isn't working with you, that doesn't mean you can't be friends, right?"
Something seemed to stab at Hela's chest at those words, and she scowled.
Because the truth was, she didn't think Steve would want anything to do with her.
She desired to conquer. Steve desired to defend. So long as she was the aggressor, Steve would stand against her.
"And if I can't accept that?" She asked stiffly.
Steve gave her a searching look. "What is it that he disagrees with exactly?" He asked eventually. "No, don't tell me - just… I guess, just try to figure it out. And think about why you want it. If it really is a matter of him or it… Then you should figure out how important it is to you. And why it's important for you to have him work with you. And figure out which is more important."
Hela fell silent, the music of the club the only sound as she stared at Steve.
Why did she want Steve with her? She and Odin had been refused before. Foolishly so. Why was it so important to her now?
Steve then gave a shrug, "without more information, I can't really help I'm afraid." He apologized, looking sad at that.
"That's alright." Hela said automatically, her voice distant as she worked through her thoughts.
What was different?
Steve shook his head. "I was hoping I could help, and all I've done is brought the mood down." He noted glumly.
She couldn't truly deny it when it was placed in front of her so.
Hela shrugged. "You tried. But how about we ignore that for now?" She advised, and after a few moments the conversation shifted towards lighter topics, the music in the background a pleasant drone as they danced the night.
Yet after she returned to her body in Helheim, sitting next to her wolf Garm, she had to admit it.
She wanted Steve Rogers on her side not only because he would be an incredible asset… But because he had become her friend.
It might seem foolish that she didn't realize this, but in her defense she made the decision to actively avoid making friends years ago.
It only led to hurt once they died.
Subordinates, tools, allies… They were easier. Less emotional attachment.
Yet now, without her realizing or permission, Steve had become her friend.
The thought of him fighting against her caused her no little amount of pain.
And Hela had no idea what to do with that information.
