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The Man That Won't Die Meets Death: Part 4
🕑 Added 2024-02-01 05:05:43 +0000 UTCHela didn't visit Steve for a while after her realization. She needed to think, and the silence of her halls weren't helping.
So for the first time in years, Hela physically left the Halls of Eljudnir and took her horse, Helhest, for a ride.
Hela breathed out slowly, letting herself be lost in the feel of the moment. Helhest's slightly lopsided gait beneath her, the flow of air through her hair.
In battle, she'd usually ride Garm. But for a casual ride, Helhest was preferable. Faster, despite only having three legs. And less temperamental to work with.
Perfect for traveling.
Like any of the Realms, Helheim was not limited to a singular environment. Across the land were a variety of biomes; from the mountains of Helgafjell to the river Gjoll.
Most of these areas were accessible to all spirits, but there were some restrictions. Places where the corrupt and tainted could be imprisoned.
Others still were uninhabited not because they were restricted, but simply because they were rendered inhospitable in one way or another.
And it was in one of these places that Hela was going.
'Think about why you want it… Figure out why it's important to you… and decide what is more important.'
Hela scoffed, her hold on the reins tightening as the ground flew beneath them. Such advice sounded good, but to truly follow through was… Difficult.
Steve Rogers had become her friend, she would not hide from that fact. However, she had her goal of taking over Asgard and conquering the Nine Realms and beyond.
One had been her goal of five thousand years. The other, she had gained only half a century prior.
And apparently those goals were mutually exclusive. To pursue one meant to lose the other.
It should be an easy choice to make, between one or the other.
So…
Why wasn't it?
Hela had asked herself that question before, yet was left with no answers. Thus, a different approach was required.
She never could think with too much silence.
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Several hours later, outside Nastrond.
Soon, Helhest was galloping across the barren waste just outside of Nastrond, the territory of Nidhogg. Even as far away as she was, she could hear the sounds of the dragon feeding.
Nidhogg was a creature they never truly understood. It was ancient - old when even her grandfather Borr was young. Odin had once told her that it fed off of the very fabric of reality, which led him to hypothesize its existence to be similar (if lesser) to that of a living infinity stone.
The mere presence of the primordial dragon altered the world around it, and it was constantly radiating power. Said power fed into the atmosphere, creating titanic storms that utterly devastated the area.
Lethal for any spirit. Even for a god, the power of one of those storms could hurt. Thus, it guaranteed the privacy she desired at the moment.
Hela slid off her horse and gently urged her horse to leave. Helhest whinnied nervously, but the three-legged horse obeyed nonetheless.
Hela took a deep breath and looked around.
Left and right, a desert of cracked and stone extended into the distance. Blackened and pockmarked, with many areas showing signs of becoming molten at some points, the land looked like a war zone. The occasional jutting stone could be seen here and there, reminiscent of cairns. Cliffs in the distance, outlined by lightning for a flash, only to disappear in the next moment.
But the truly spectacular sight was the sky.
Dark tumultuous clouds of incomprehensible size, constantly twisting and churning around a spot in the distance. Lit up not only by lightning but the subtle glow of miasma and otherworldly energy, making it look like the clouds were on fire. A light show with enough power to destroy a continent.
Hela grit her teeth as a wave of loathing passed through her.
This area…
She hated it.
It was representative of the worst people thought of when they thought of Helheim - A dead world of suffering and torment.
A reminder that for all that while it wasn't (entirely) true, and she had made it her own, she was still cast out. Banished. Alive, but consigned to the world of the dead, not even worthy of entering Valhalla.
Forgotten.
Unfortunately, this was the best place to come to think. Someplace where her power wouldn't be noticed, not even by Heimdall, as the storm fluctuations interrupted his sight.
So Hela shoved aside her current feelings, taking a deep breath as she formed her necrosword. The action was instinctive, the feel of a sword in her hand natural even after years of inactivity.
Carefully taking a stance, she began to dance.
Block. Strike. Lunge. Dodge. Throw!
Hela was already creating another the moment the first left her hand, the original flying out and piercing a rock outcropping. But Hela was already onto her next set.
It'd been far too long since she'd actually run through the basics like this - her trainers would no doubt be upset with her had they known. She remembered being forced to do these drills for hours on end, drilling them into her memory when she was still a junior member of the Valkyries.
A chore in the beginning, it turned into a form of meditation to clear her mind. Not that she would ever admit that to her mother…
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Hela was young when she first began her training. It was something she was looking forward to for so long, but when the time actually arrived, she was less than impressed.
Young Hela growled, "Why am I doing this?" She demanded, only barely keeping herself from throwing the practice sword.
Freyja, her mother, just gave her a smirk. "You told me you wished to become a Valkyrie, did you not?" She asked in amusement. "Did you think it would be easy?"
"I expected actual fighting! Not waving a sword back and forth!" Hela shot back. She was strong, AND could already fight. Amongst her friends, she had never lost before, not even against Heimdall and his cheating eyes, and she couldn't wait to show off how good she was to her parents.
Only for her first day to be subjected to stupid 'stances' and 'technique'.
"I don't need to learn this stuff to win." Hela huffed.
Freyja laughed, the noise causing many to look their way, and Hela turned red in embarrassment and frustration as she glared at her mom.
"Technique is developed when encountering something that strength can't overcome." Freyja smiled at her daughter. "I'd much rather you learn technique now, as opposed to before it's too late."
Hela narrowed her eyes at her mom. "What if I just get so strong that nobody can beat me up?" She challenged in a way only a child could.
"Hmmm," Freyja pretended to look thoughtful. "I suppose that would also work. But are you that strong now?"
Silence was the only answer as Hela's younger self scowled. Sure, she was going to get stronger as she got older. But she wasn't older now.
"Well, I suppose you don't have to practice if you don't want to." Freyja sighed dramatically. "As Queen of the Valkyries, I could just let you in. But then everybody would know that you got in only because of your parents…"
"No!" Hela glared at her mother once more. The thought of other people thinking she was weak was infuriating!
Even if it meant she had to do the stupid exercises…
Freyja snickered. "If nothing else, many people, myself included, find training to be relaxing. A time for contemplation." She informed her, as if that was supposed to be a consolation.
Hela gagged, "this?!" She demanded incredulously, gesturing to her sword. "No way!"
"Never say never my little Valkyrie." Freyja laughed. "Are you ready to begin once more?"
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The old memory brought a wave of nostalgia with it, one that she swiftly buried.
No, her mother would never find out she was correct.
Hela sparred against imaginary opponents, the familiar routine helping settle her mind even as the land was torn up around her.
As she did so, she rolled the question back and forth in her mind -
'Why do I wish to conquer the Realms?'
For three thousand years Hela had held onto that goal, that burning desire. It had kept her going through everything, kept her from giving up in her darkest moments and allowed her to build all that she had here.
Yet as she tried to recall 'why' she desired it… She couldn't immediately answer.
It was vexing.
It was her goal after all - she had once believed so passionately in it that she rebelled against her father, killing many Asgardians in her attempted coup. She just needed to remember the reason.
Hela began creating multiple swords at once, her movements becoming a bit more frantic as she was unable to come up with an answer.
Every action had a reason behind it, regardless of how trite it was.
For example - Steve's friendship was important to her because it was pleasant. Talking with him, spending time with him, having him explain the intricacies of Midgard, discussing tactics with him…
She enjoyed it. The purpose behind a goal need not be more complex than that.
So why could she not identify the reason for her oldest standing goal?
Hela began incorporating necrotic blasts into her movements, her swords wreathed in green flames that scarred the earth.
Thousands of years in exile - she had lost track of the exact amount of time. Save for the strongest of memories, it was difficult to recall. She could remember certain events, sometimes the emotions related to those events… But trying to remember her thoughts at the time was significantly harder.
Her frustration grew the more she attempted to think.
It had obviously been important to her - it had been the basis for her rebellion!
It had to have been a good one too. She was well aware of how strong Odin was. She might have been confident in her own strength, but Odin…
Odin was insanely strong.
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It was the middle of a battle, her first battle as a Valkyrie (well, her first true battle period). But for several seconds (that she knew her mother would rebuke her for) she could only stare.
Muspelheim had invaded Asgard.
All around her, fellow Valkyries flew and attacked in coordinated movements with airships and their greater arsenal. The Ulfhednar charged forward with reckless abandon while the Einherjar formed in ranks behind them, the volur behind them enchanting weapons and weaving protections.
Yet these were the elite troops of Muspelheim.
Large, lizard-like war beasts led the charge, breaking through defenses and breathing fire. Each strike that managed to pierce their armored scales released boiling blood, burning the attacker.
Winged imps flew in flocks and attacked the Valkyries. Irritants on their own, Valkyries that weren't careful would swiftly find a dozen clinging to them, dragging them off their mounts to the more capable forces below. For every pack of imps flew a fire demon; larger and stronger, that directed them.
Armored fire giants brought up the rear. From a distance they'd throw rock and fire trolls over the front lines to cause chaos behind. Up close, they wielded weapons glowing with heat.
They smashed through Asgard's initial defenses, the army barely had time to rally to oppose them.
She could see her mother and her entourage, wearing winged armor as opposed to the horses most Valkyrie used. Harder to use in battle, but faster and more maneuverable. Her mother weaved spells in conjunction with her fighting - ice grew on wings, causing imp and demon to freeze and fall on the forces below. Energy sheared through armor with ease, sonic blasts that fractured and warped, and lightning sang at her fingertips.
But standing at the front of the lines to meet the enemy was her father.
Hela watched as Odin literally glowed with power, each strike delivered with enough strength to stagger multiple giants. His spear, Gungnir, pierced hardened armor with unnerving accuracy and ease. She watched as he threw it, a move that pierced half a dozen imps before recalling it to his hand, slamming one of the war lizards down with enough force to crack the ground before needing to catch the spear, immediately turning and bisecting a giant.
And then he was off once more, Mugin and Hugin flying and watching above him.
It was awe-inspiring. Incredible. And with a start, Hela was berating herself for losing focus when a number of imps congregated on her. She quickly slew them and directed her mount to head into battle once more.
She had known her parents were strong. Everybody knew it. But for the first time in her life, she saw just how strong that was.
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Time had marched on, and more and more she saw examples of Odin's strength and power.
Naturally there were others who had shown themselves strong. Her mother, Ortlinde the Valkyrie, Tyr the War God, Arnulf the Shaman, Sondre the Berserker… But Odin had, without a doubt, established himself as the strongest Asgardian.
Even at the height of her power and arrogance she never thought herself stronger than him - just his equal. She knew better than to think that a fight between them would be easy.
And still, she had believed in her cause enough to risk going against him.
So what did I forget? What did I lose?
It wasn't that they had had a tumultuous relationship. Odin had been present while she was growing up, and he was never cruel.
Receiving praise from either of her parents had filled her with pride. Her acceptance into the Valkyries, her promotions and victories…
Odin never showed favoritism, and when he congratulated her she knew it was well earned.
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"Father? What did you wish to speak with me about?" Hela asked as she walked into the throne room and looked up at Odin.
As usual, Hugin and Mugin sat on either side of the throne, and Odin's spear leaned against it nearby, close at hand.
Different though, was the hammer at the foot of the throne. One she didn't recognize.
"I have just heard Otr's report, and I wished to congratulate you." Odin looked at her proudly. "Your actions in Ginnungagap have saved the lives of thousands, and significantly pushed back the Giants offensive."
Hela smirked, pride filling her chest. She'd come a long way since that first battle. But Odin wasn't finished.
"As a Valkyrie, you gained the respect of your fellow soldiers." He stated solemnly. "As my Executioner, you've proven your worth to the army as a whole. Now, after talking it over with your mother and the other leaders, I would like to offer you the position of Commander of the Armies of Asgard, should you accept."
Hela's eyes widened in shock and surprise.
Commander?
"Yes!" She said with a bright smile, excitement burning through her. "I accept!"
Odin reached down and picked up the hammer, walking over to her and handing it to her.
"This hammer was made by the dwarves years ago. It is a weapon made for a ruler." He told her solemnly, placing it in her hands. "Its name is Mjolnir. May you wield it with honor, that all your enemies may fall before you."
Hela felt a connection to the hammer the moment she touched it, her own power flowing through it naturally.
Mjolnir.
She grinned savagely at the feeling of strength that came with it.
Odin placed a hand on her shoulder. "I am proud of you, my daughter."
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Hela finished another set with a frustrated growl, stabbing her sword into the ground.
It felt like she was missing pieces of a puzzle. She knew the end result, but the pieces didn't make sense. They weren't fitting together properly.
Simply training wasn't working. It wasn't… It wasn't enough. She needed something more challenging. But that was impossible - the only creature that could stand up to her was Nidhog, and she wasn't foolish enough to think she could take it on.
The wind began to pick up. Prickles of energy danced across her skin, warning her of an impending storm.
She slowed to a stop for a moment, observing the massive monstrosity of a storm rolling in towards her in the distance. Great bolts of lightning arced and raged about her, looking for all the world like massive teeth.
Hela found herself grinning at the maw of the storm… And charged directly into it.
She knew the moment she passed the perimeter of the storm. The wind felt like a solid force as it slammed into her body, forcing her to dig her heels into the stone and brace against it as specks of dirt and rain flayed against her skin…
Only to be forced to dive to the side as several lightning bolts struck where she had been, destroying the ground.
Her heart raced as she slowly figured out the path of the buffeting winds, going with it as opposed to against it, lightning destroying the ground as it barely missed her.
Hela cursed as some shrapnel from the lightning blast cut into her thigh, the rain burning like acid as it hit the open wound.
Still, she relished the push.
Her body dancing on a knife's edge, she dredged up memories millennia old.
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Her back hit the ground with a thud, and Hela quickly launched herself back up and glared at Tyr.
"Your mind is in turmoil." The god of war said knowingly, walking towards her with his spear drawn. "You and I, we're quite similar. We are creatures of battle. Fighting, it occupies our bodies, lets our mind work out the rest."
"And you believe I need to 'work something out'?" Hela spat out, drawing her own swords.
Tyr chuckled, "A man at war with himself places a deficit on his focus. My dear, you absolutely have something to work out."
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Yes, she was well aware her mind was in turmoil - that's why she was doing this!
Was it for the treasure? Asgard's riches were based on their victories. The amount gained was not insignificant.
No, Hela thought with a frown as she spun around an outcropping, narrowly dodging from being flung into it at high speeds. She lashed out with her foot, shattering the stone while sending herself airborne and at the whims of the wind for several seconds before using her energy to stabilize herself.
When she hit the ground, she slid for several meters before twisting around a tree with bladelike branches that had somehow survived.
No, it wasn't treasure.
She tried imagining the mountains of gold, jewels, and artifacts liberated. The variety of weapons looted, the technology secured, the knowledge gained… Yet had to dismiss that thought. They were nice, but it was never truly a driving force for her.
Then… Why?
The question wouldn't stop repeating, looping over and over in her mind. Why couldn't she remember?!
Why?!
Hela struck out with her power, numerous twisted black swords forming - made from ancient metal and once wielded by a godslayer before she killed him - and clashed with the lightning in a series of violent explosions. A symphony of sound played in concert with the storm around her.
Was it entitlement? The belief that something belonged to her because she deserved it?
Hela frowned, contemplating that possibility for a few moments.
No. At least, not traditionally. She had been content being under her father's command, executing his vision.
Hela hissed as another bolt of lightning nearly missed her. Most of her power had to go to shielding her from the caustic rain, but she endured.
She had endured much throughout the realms, from Muspelheim to Nifleheim. Each battle had been a challenge, one which she relished. And as the years moved on those challenges became more and more complex, and still she prevailed.
Until the day she was told it would all end.
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"Father, what is the meaning of this?" Hela demanded furiously.
They had just arrived from another battle, victorious. This was to be a celebratory moment, yet Odin had come to her with, frankly, absurd news.
"I wish to call for a cessation of hostilities." Odin declared softly, yet firmly. "And I wish to hear your thoughts."
"But - why?" Hela asked in disbelief. "Our armies still stand strong; the Einherjar suffered minimal losses in the last campaign, the dwarves are on schedule to deliver the next batch of Destroyers, and the Valkyries are at full capacity."
"I am aware of that, my daughter." Odin replied, shaking his head. "But our purpose for war has ended. Those who attacked us have been subdued, and our rule has been established and is firm."
"Yet there remain other worlds out there. Other threats!" Hela retorted.
"Yes, there are." Odin said mildly. "And if they attack, they shall swiftly come to see the error of their ways. But until that time, I would not have any more Asgardian blood shed."
There were more arguments, yet the only thing Hela could remember is being unable to sway Odin of his course.
The war would end.
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Hela remembered the feeling of utter betrayal… But she couldn't recall why it was so important.
Was it because she believed they were a danger to her or Asgard? No. Few at the time could rival Asgard's might, let alone the might of either her or her parents. Especially after winning as they had.
The concerns that Odin had brought up certainly hadn't bothered her. Even now, she didn't truly understand.
Hela had killed many people. So, so many, her hands were drenched in the blood of countless. Guilty? Innocent? Good or bad? None of that mattered, for they were simply the enemy. Those who had fought and died well deserved a place in Valhalla, while cowards received an unmarked grave.
Yet it wasn't like she desired to conquer for the sake of more death. She was simply… Ambivalent towards the concept of death.
So why?
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"Surely you can't be supporting him in this." Hela asked her mother in disbelief. "You're a war goddess!"
"Support? I was the one that recommended it." Freyja looked at her daughter curiously and with some concern. "War is never supposed to last forever. It was inevitable that it would end. As there is a time for fighting, there must be a time for peace."
"But… But.." Hela could hardly express herself at this point, she felt betrayed by both parents.
"Hela, are you alright?" Freyja asked in concern, walking over to her. It was too much.
"I'm fine." She snapped, turning on her heel and marching out.
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Hela remembered that conversation vividly. She remembered going to the barracks, to the training field, where she had vented her frustrations to some of the soldiers.
Heimdall had recommended she take some time off, to not do anything hasty.
As he left, however, other veterans came up. Soldiers that understood, had seen it her way. They agreed with her, told her they would follow her, regardless of what happened.
Emboldened by the support, Hela decided that since she had been betrayed, it was only fair she betray in return.
In the end, her plan would involve the minimum amount of deaths. Truly, the only people that HAD to die were her father (so she could take the throne), his top supporters, and those who were pushing for peace the loudest.
She chose a time when Odin was gone before inviting the top offenders to Valaskjalf. Her supporters were to delay the response time until the deed was done. To delay people like Heimdall, or her mother.
By the time Odin arrived, he would arrive to see his closest supporters slain, and hopefully the shock would give her an edge in battle.
It would be a difficult fight, even with an edge. She knew that.
She didn't expect it to be an impossible fight.
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The doors slammed open, and Odin walked into the throne room in all his power.
"Hela!" Odin thundered, his expression horrified as he stared at the carnage. "What is the meaning of this?"
"What does it look like, father?" Hela asked with a calculated smirk, twirling Mjolnir in her hand as she gestured to the bodies around her, pools of blood hiding the floor. "Do not worry, they fought with honor in their final moments. However, they would not have supported me, thus they were my enemy. As. Are. You."
She threw Mjolnir, filling it with as much power as it could handle, before summoning her swords and charged.
Odin caught it.
Hela's heart felt like it skipped a beat as she nearly tripped.
He just… Caught Mjolnir.
With a grunt, Odin threw it, where it became embedded in a nearby wall, and Hela gasped as she felt something in her mind snap as her connection with the hammer vanished.
"Is the idea of peace so abhorrent to you that you would seek death even amongst ourselves?" Odin demanded.
Hela schooled her expression once more. It didn't matter what Odin could do - she would fight.
"If my ambitions exceed your own, then it only makes sense that I replace you, doesn't it?" She asked as she prepared herself.
Odin stared at her for several moments before his expression hardened, all traces of horror gone. "Very well, my daughter." He summoned Gungnir. "If you desire a fight so badly, then that is what I shall grant."
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The fight had been brutal. Easily the toughest fight she had ever had. And to her shame, it had been entirely one-sided.
Lightning finally struck her, forcing her from her memories and throwing her back several meters. Hands dug into dead dirt as rock pressed into her back.
Like that day. Her day of banishment.
She gasped for breath, rain pelting her face as it felt like a roar in her head. If she thought about it, she could practically feel the wounds received that day. The look her father gave her.
In that moment, she had sworn she would escape and conquer the Realms. At the time, it had been the most important thing, the only thing. But why was it? What had she forgotten?
Grabbing for her head, Hela squeezed her temples.
Why?!
She'd clung so tightly to the idea of revenge and conquest, she had completely forgotten the reason behind it.
Hela felt something die inside of her at that realization.
An action with no reason behind it was hollow.
Pointless.
Three thousand years being sustained by a pointless goal.
As a thousand lightning bolts ravaged the world around her, Hela screamed into the void, her grief and rage not losing out to the storm around her as she let her powers loose.
Yet no one could hear her.
She was alone.
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Author's Note:
I've seen so many people say that Odin is a terrible father. That he was a monster… But honestly, we really don't know. Canon-wise, we've barely seen anything, and my memories of him really don't show him to be all that bad. It feels like people say that Odin is a bad father because there's nobody else to really blame… We don't know any other Asgardian. Who was Hela's mother? Her friends? Trainers? Any other influencers in her life? We know next to nothing.
The main hurdle I've had with this story is 'how does Hela actually get together with Steve without making either of them too OOC'. The answer is Hela has to change - she needs to have a redemption arc. But, like I said, the problem is we really aren't given a lot about her or her motivation.
So my solution is that in the thousands of years of exile, Hela had focused so much on the end goal that she forgot the original reason behind her rebellion. While in exile, Hela changed. This chapter, I focused on Hela's past before exile. Next chapter, I go over what she's done during exile. We'll also see Steve again.
We don't know how long Hela was imprisoned for, but at a minimum it'd have to be two thousand years, so I went with three thousand. I don't think people fully realize how long thousands of years is. That much time is… It's insane.
Now, all that being said, it's all a work of fiction, right? I'm hoping to explain the thought process behind why I wrote it like this, and I really don't want to debate what is right/wrong with anybody. In the end, I'm really just hoping that people are able to enjoy the story for what it is.
Comments
Adam Costello
Grabbing for her head, Hela squeezed her temples. Why?! She'd clung so tightly to the idea of revenge and conquest, she had completely forgotten the reason behind it. Hela felt something die inside of her at that realization. An action with no reason behind it was hollow. Pointless. Three thousand years being sustained by a pointless goal. (A horrible truth to realize, but Steve helps Hela come to that truth. Hard as it hits. Oh, the corpse eating dragon)
